Tales from a Quiet Man

8/9/2019 Tales from a Quiet Man

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About the Author

John has been a nurse, a tutor, a lecturer, a manager and a

counsellor. He is married to Betty and between them they have sixchildren and nine grandchildren. This is John’s first published

book, with a further book of short stories waiting in the wings.


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Dedication

This book is dedicated to Trevor Robinson who coaxed, cajoled

and challenged me to write something.

I am not sure what this is but it is definitely something.

Thanks Trevor.

Trevor Robinson1

st August 1945 – 14

th November 2014


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Copyright © John Orr (2015)

The right of John Orr to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the

Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may bereproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any

form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,

recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the

publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims

for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British

Library.

ISBN (Paperback) 9781784557713 ISBN (Hardback) 9781784557720

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2015)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.

25 Canada Square

Canary WharfLondon

E14 5LB

Printed and bound in Great Britain


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Acknowledgments

I wish to thank my wife, Betty, for her encouragement, spell

checking and especially for the many hours spent typing my

stories.


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My heart is breaking. The man that I love more than life itself

has just told me that he does not share my feelings.He has just walked out the door!I can feel my heart break.

My name is Ann, I am twenty-two years of age. How can I

begin to think of all the empty years to come, without him?As soon as I saw him I knew he was the ONE.The differences between us mattered not one jot. He was

dancing with Nana at someone’s coming home party; six feettall, lean without being scrawny, with piercing blue eyes and

grey hair worn long over his ears in a 1960’s style.I simply could not wait, so I decided that it was an excuse

for me to dance – so I did.

His eyes seemed to pour into my soul as I felt weak at theknees.

“My dance, I think,” I announced cheekily.

He responded in “olde world” fashion and I was glidinground the floor in his arms.

If I danced a little too closely, he did not seem to notice.I was carried in a cloud of ecstasy.

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Tales from a Quiet Man