PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ MIRROR DISTORTED DEFLECTION

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/09/13/picture-it-write-70/

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Original image by Michelle Monique.

As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

MIRROR DISTORTED DEFLECTION

by John Yeo

My friends and family in fact everybody I come into contact with, all tell me how wonderful I am looking. My boyfriend is so very proud of me, he does everything in his power to encourage me to go out with him as he would like to introduce me to his friends and family.
I always make an excuse not to go anywhere. How can I be seen in public looking like this? Why do people tell lies all the time and compliment me on my looks? I know how ugly I am, I can see myself in the mirror.
When I try to tell my parents why I am not a sociable person, they laugh and tell me not to be shy, then they tell me how beautiful I am.
Can’t people see these horrible black marks all over my face and hands? They look like tattoos! I have never been near a tattoo shop in my life.
My friend Cynthia is always telling me not to be so silly, she says I am lovely and slim and beautiful. I know she is lying though, as she is always going on about how fat she looks in the mirror, yet she is slimmer than I am. My Mum says she is an anorexic and she can’t help it.
I have to pretend to be ill all the time so that I can stay indoors, my Dad thinks I am a hypochondriac. When I asked the doctor if I could have plastic surgery, he laughed and asked me what for? When I told him, he wasn’t laughing anymore, he thinks I need to see a specialist Psychological doctor.
My Dad got angry and said that’s a waste of time and money as there is nothing wrong with me.
I don’t look in the mirror anymore!

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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A prompt response for “INSPIRATION MONDAY:” ~ FEELOSOPHY

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Image © Copyright John and Margaret

FEELOSOPHY

by John Yeo

 We always paid rapt attention when the elderly lady entered the room. A distinguished-looking person, she generated a certain aura of mystique. The flowing floral dress and the look of her off-beat fashions were a distinct example of the old cliche!  “Never judge a book by the cover.”  Her time-worn almost time-ravaged looks, were a clue to the well-lived life that had gone before, and the wealth of experiences that together had moulded this wise woman’s outlook on life.

 Maria Salome-Smith was a lady who professed to be a leader of a coven and gave her occupation as a white witch. Devoted to helping as many people in her community, Maria was a healer and a mystic. Using many of the half-forgotten herbal remedies that had been passed down through the centuries, she was responsible for curing many sick people. This made many of the hard intolerant members of the clergy in the local Orthodox Church very uneasy indeed.

 No-one knows exactly who made the decision to arrest her, or how it came to be carried out. After several days of intense cruel torturous questioning, her persecutors were unable to break her strong spirit. It was decided to drag her to court regardless and to try her for the trumped-up charges of evil witchcraft bringing premature death to a member of the ruling gentry.

There was an instant hush as Maria entered the courtroom and a gasp of horror at her unkempt appearance, her head had been shaved and the long distinguished looking grey locks of hair were gone. 

    “How do you plead? Guilty  or Not Guilty?” Enquired the honourable lady Judge.

  Maria’s piercing steel-blue eyes regarded the Judge, as she proudly responded, “Not Guilty!”

There was a hush before the trial commenced and several people were brought to tears and there were shouts from the public gallery. 

“Innocent! Release her! She is innocent!

“Silence in Court please!” was a stern rebuke from the bench.

The trial commenced after one emotional lady was removed from the courtroom.

After several days of hearing from a succession of biased witnesses desperately trying to justify a very obvious set of trumped up charges, the honourable Lady Judge threw the case out of court and rebuked the accusers severely for wasting time and public money.

 There was a silence in the courtroom as contrary to all previous examples of so-called justice, Maria Salome-Smith was allowed to respond.

     “I thank-you for your wisdom, and I would like to say on behalf of all my innocent sisters who have been wrongly accused and died, for following the Feelosophy and state that there is an underlying body of sacred knowledge that is misunderstood and ignored. Difference in points of learning should be revered, and the accepted hard Philosophy of life and our Feelosophy should be merged into one whole body of knowledge that should be allowed to grow. Only the  bigoted would attempt to wipe out the good by killing. There will never be growth if we stand still. Use the good, Feelosophy to follow your ancient instincts and live well. Thank- you!”

 

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

Written for INSPIRATION MONDAY

http://bekindrewrite.com/2015/09/07/inspiration-monday-feelosophy/

Inspiration Monday ~ inmonsterbadge1

A RAINY DAY

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge.

Hosted by Priceless Joy.

The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.

A Rainy Day

Image © Priceless Joy

A RAINY DAY

by John Yeo

Torrential rain was keeping the family indoors and everyone was bored.
Billy the rebellious, restless teenager, a rebel without a cause was unsettled and fed up.
“I’m bored, this rain is a pain, there is nothing to do! Betty! I’m talking to you! Why are you ignoring me?”
Betty was a happy little nine year old, busy playing with Snuggles a Persian cat who was also fed up.
“Leave us alone Billy! I am bored too, I’ll call Mummy if you carry on.”
The rain continues, tempers are fraying. Snuggles is mewing, Mummy comes running.
Father arrives with a mysterious box.
“I have been clearing out the loft! Look what I’ve found! Hey everyone come here! Look!”
A long red and white box captures everyone’s interest as Father lifts the lid.
A large board with cards, paper money, tiny wooden houses and hotels with dice and little models.
“Monopoly!” Mummy exclaims! “I haven’t seen that for years.”
“Bags the model car!” Billy shouts.
The game is on.
“Hey the rain’s stopped!” shouts Betty.
Nobody moved.

(175 Words)

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

This is in response to a challenge hosted by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. If you would like to participate in this challenge or need more information, please click the following link:

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (40)

I am taking part in Mondays Finish the Story 07/09/2015, which is a challenge that provides a photo prompt and the opening sentence to your story. The rules indicate that the story you come up with must be between 100-150 words, not including the given opening sentence.

The link below takes you to Part Thirty-Nine

https://johnandmargaret1607.wordpress.com/2015/09/01/mysterious-island-39/

MI 40

© 2015, Marcy B. Ayanian

Finish the story begins with:

“As her mount shifted uneasily under her, she grasped the brim of her old felt Stetson, gazed upwards and remembered Jean Pierre.”

  Lucienne missed Jean Pierre, he had been fun when she visited Paris. She mourned the day he had left for Brazil, recruited by a mysterious organisation, Jean Pierre seduced with a large sum of money had promised to return and marry her when the work was finished.
Jean Pierre had served for three years in the rough tough French Foreign Legion, then recruited by the Brigadier’s organisation when he was discharged. Assigned to Marg’s team, he was present when the booby-trapped door exploded, he was thrown backwards by the force of the explosion and lying prone, blood gushing from a wound. Marg called for medical help as Don Fernando and and his team emptied the contents of the strongroom while the Little Bird helicopter lifted the badly injured Jean Pierre to safety.
The hidden cache of cash and precious metals was removed as a huge blast finally destroyed the complex.

(150 Words)

To be continued.

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

The link below takes you to Part Thirty-Nine

https://johnandmargaret1607.wordpress.com/2015/09/01/mysterious-island-39/

mondays-finish-the-story-2

https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

VISTA

  I decided I would try to conjure up a piece of written work using a single word. I chose the word vista, and described a day at sea on a voyage aboard a sea-going ship.

Seagull

Image © John and Margaret

VISTA

by John Yeo

The watery view was endless, waves as far as the eye could see from the side of the ship to the far distant horizon or skyline. Where the sea meets the sky a natural black line separates the two. This is known as the water horizon. The foam-flecked waves were hypnotic, a cerulean blue that was the reflection of an almost cloudless sky on the wavy water below. Almost cloudless, except for the few straggling fluffy white clouds drifting freely, moving slowly as our ship sailed on.
Very few seabirds fly out this far, perhaps a few adventurous Gulls, always on the alert and on the hunt for food. These avian hunters usually fly out within reach of their colonies, especially during the breeding season. The closer to land our ship reaches the more birds are visible, following the vessel and congregating on the shore. On some very rare occasions a solitary migrating bird will land on board ship to rest and search for food or fresh water.
We encounter a number of other vessels on our way, mostly cargo ships piled high with containers. Much of the worlds goods for trade is now transported on board these huge ships. Sometimes we will encounter a small fishing vessel sailing out to follow the fishing routes, usually the closer to land the more small craft we will meet.
Suddenly there is a ripple as the waves seem to open naturally and a grey smooth, powerful, shiny, bottle-nosed dolphin, leaps to the surface from beneath the waves. Then another, and more, as a pair break the surface of the water together. This pod of dolphins numbers at least seven and their greyish blue glistening bodies shine as they leap above the surface of the sea, too fast and unpredictable to get a decent photograph.
Then the wind picks up and the waves get higher, rocking and rolling, testing the ships stabilisers. The beauty of the white-topped waves is clear, white foamy broiling waves with a dark grey reflection from the now stormy looking cloudy skies above.
As we travel through this almost endless vista of deep wavy water as far as the eye can see, the spray and bubbly spume from the now broiling almost stormy sea adds a dramatic frame to the hypnotic splendour of a very unforgiving picture. The mind seems to take flight into the depths beneath the surface, how many sunken ships from many centuries lie rusting and decaying beneath our modern vessel as we steam onwards to our destination? How many lives have been lost to this unmerciful, powerful sea?
The journey continues as the sun sinks beneath the distant horizon in a glorious orange red and golden sunset. This is a memorable beauty that can be preserved and the camera captures the magnificence for later re-living of this superb vista.
A silvery light then illuminates a much calmer sea as night falls, and a full moon lights up the night sky and the waves below, reflecting the moonbeams that now dominate the endless vista of the restless sea.

Sea

Image © John and Margaret

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

MEANINGFUL MUSING ~ 5th September 2015

Words

Image from the Net

MEANINGFUL MUSING

by John Yeo

  Someone recently wrote on a wall somewhere, this anonymous piece of graffiti ~ “WORDS DO NOT MEAN ANYTHING TODAY”. The word anything was underlined to emphasise the lack of meaning contributed to life in general by words.
 My immediate and unequivocal response is that in my personal experience the exact opposite is true. I firmly believe, and I will always stand by my belief that WORDS MEAN EVERYTHING! Our way of life and culture is built on verbal communication, we cannot survive rationally without the use of the spoken or the written word. We must communicate to be able to share our lives and our ideas with one another and the easiest and most widely understood successful method of communication is through the use of words.
  Even the questionable graffiti message, “WORDS DO NOT MEAN ANYTHING TODAY ” is conveyed by the use of words.
Smoke signals, distant drums and semaphore flags all need words to interpret the message that is communicated.
 The many varieties of the media that is everywhere these days, is built and maintained through the use of words. Electronic devices such as computers, laptops, and mobile phones thrive by the messages conveyed in the form of words. Sadly social media would not be very sociable without the hot air that is generated through the use of words. Yes, the “chattering classes” are alive and well and maintained wholly through the use of words. Perhaps the graffiti artist had this enormous and growing verbal assault in mind, when he painted his work of art.
  I am afraid I haven’t got a clue who first uttered this sequence of words or the logic behind the statement. Perhaps someone was sadly let down by a smooth talking salesman, or they were badly hurt by a smooth-talking individual. Maybe they were very disillusioned by a series of concepts that gave them the impression through the use of words that heaven was just around the corner.
  There is an old saying that people can be, “Put in the promised land,” simply by the use of words. To be put in the promised land a person would be promised much, regardless of the outcome, building their hopes up by the use of words.

THE PROMISED LAND

   Billy was a native country boy who arrived in the city with a legacy of many thousands of pounds. Billy was bereaved when his father, a very wealthy farmer suddenly passed away after a massive heart attack. Billy was spending very heavily when he came to the attention of the entrepreneurs, Bob and Ben. They met in the bar of the palatial hotel that was Billy’s temporary home.
“Hi! Let me introduce myself, I’m Bob and this is my colleague, Ben. What would you like to drink?”
Billy was very impressed by the friendliness of these two prosperous looking men and he nodded.
“Thanks, I’ll have whatever you are having.”
“Three double scotches, please bartender, and have one yourself.” It was Ben who ordered the drinks and put them on a tab.
“We have had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a very wealthy oilman from Texas and we are meeting up with him here to discuss some business, would you like to join us? We will have a few drinks and maybe play some poker, there is also a chance of us all making some very nice money from a huge deal.”
Just at that moment a tall man breezed up and proceeded to shake everyone’s hand, then in a very smooth American accent with a wide smile.
“Hi all! I’m Hiram, pleased to meet you!”
That night was a night Billy would live to remember for the rest of his life. Not only did he win a very large sum of money at cards, he was offered a share in a Texas oil well, that would make him a multi millionaire. Billy was flattered, but he asked for time to think the deal over. Billy parted from his very good new friends.
Bob nudged Ben after he had gone and mentioned the obvious skill and good luck that Billy had shown at cards.
“Bob! He cleaned-up. He won almost every hand and cleaned out Hiram!”
“Don’t worry Ben, he was just lucky there, we will get it all back when the deal is done.”
Billy was in his luxury room smiling and counting out his winnings. He was very good at cards after living through the long winter nights down on the farm.

  Now this is an example of words in the form of dialogue. Bob and Ben think they have put Billy in the promised land by promising him a fortune for the easy earning.
Billy has put Bob and Ben in the promised land by going along with everything they say without any intention of investing.
Born on a farm, and as sharp as the blade of a well-used scythe.

Perhaps, “WORDS DO NOT MEAN ANYTHING TODAY”, should read

“WORDS SOMETIMES DO NOT MEAN ANYTHING TODAY”

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

DAILY PROMPT ~ 4th SEPTEMBER 2015 ~ CONSULTING WITH HIS LORDSHIP

Isolation

Image © Copyright ~ John and Margaret

DAILY PROMPT on Word Press ~  3rd Sept 2015
Inside the Bubble
A contagious disease requires you to be put into quarantine for a whole month (don’t worry, you get well by the time you’re free to go!). How would you spend your time in isolation?

~~~~~~~

CONSULTING WITH HIS LORDSHIP

by John Yeo

  A whole month to concentrate on many things and try to use the enforced isolation to create something that I can build on by the time I am well enough to go home. My first requirement would be a laptop or an iPad, hopefully with an Internet connection that would enable me to work on my writing. The internet connection is not an essential as I can quite easily work offline. If necessary I would be able to work with an old-fashioned fountain pen and paper, I am quite capable of writing using longhand.

  The most important requirement would be a clear state of mind. Would I be on strong medication, that could affect my thought processes?
Would I be able to summon up the energy and be able to demonstrate the reserves of commitment and concentration?
Given that my state of health is fairly reasonable and I am not zonked out by very strong drugs. I would spend my time working on creative writing.
I think I would start a whole new project, using the models of my carers as characters in my story.
Beneath the anonymous sterile protective garments required by the staff who would care for me in the isolation ward, are some very real dedicated people.

 The consultant in charge of my case, would be written in as the Lord of the manor and a king of all he surveys. A cool unemotional man who is very guarded in his manner and very cautious in his relationships with his staff and his patients. The hospital consultant is always briskly visible on ward-rounds and is looked up to by one and all. As the Lord of the manor he would be very distant from all, delegating much responsibility to trusted managers.

 The junior doctors and medical trainees, would be individually written into my story as these invaluable confidants, who work wonders in keeping the treatment plans of the patients and the estate management plans on track.

 The ward sister would be written as his personal assistant, trusted almost to the point of becoming a colleague. The exceptional people-managing skills she possesses would be invaluable to our Lord of the manor and she would almost certainly be represented as his Personal Assistant or the estate manager.

 The hardworking nurses who administer to my needs in the super sterile isolation ward, very friendly, skilfully detecting and reacting to any change in my condition, or my mood, would be very important characters to his Lordship. This team of dedicated individuals would be the estate employees, very competently working to keep things running smoothly, checking supplies and reacting to the slightest change or trouble looming ahead. The hospital nursing staff interact personally and directly with the patient, raising his or her spirits when required and granting the people in their care the dignity of a friendly face to relate to. These skills would be invaluable in any organisation. His lordship would be very aware of this and these valuable personnel would be transferred to many areas in his organisation.

 The auxiliary staff who would be securely gowned and masked in protective attire, would speedily but efficiently carry out their duties, cleaning and delivering clean linen and removing soiled linen in special protective bags. Always very friendly, but always cautious as they quickly carry out their duties. These invaluable people would be members of his Lordships domestic staff, tirelessly working for the continued very smooth running of a large estate and organisation.

 Then as my month in isolation progressed I would build the character of his Lordship and introduce her Ladyship, an ex fashion-model and now a society queen, ruling over an empire of social butterflies who would be vieing with each other for her attentions. This would translate to the hospital general manager and chief executive, responsible for authorising the budgets for each department throughout the hospital.

 My impending discharge from hospital would come to the fore as my enforced quarantine isolation came to an end. There would be many visitors and my family and friends would now be allowed to visit. The protective masks and gowns would disappear.

 This would relate to the lifting of the quarantine restrictions and many people would be allowed back into my life. Leading to my personal very interesting ongoing story.

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

FOLLOW YOUR DREAM

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge.

Hosted by Priceless Joy.

The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.

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This week’s photo prompt is provided by Louise with The Storyteller’s Abode.

FOLLOW YOUR DREAM

by John Yeo

Joe was a steam train buff, he loved the metal monsters that chugged across the great prairies through the stunning scenery in the days of the steam train revolution. Joe’s dream was to go to the famous Chattanooga hotel and visit the original site of the great train-ride that was the inspiration for the big band hit “Chattanooga Choo-Choo”, made famous by Glenn Miller and his big band.
Joe Sproggins was a man who had spent his life in a merchant bankers office in the city of London in the UK, where Joe dreamed his alter-ego dreams of riding on the footplate of this grand old steam engine.
Joe was married to Dora and their very precious first memory was the night they met, dancing in the local dance-hall to the sound of a big band, belting out “Chattanooga Choo-Choo”.
Fifty years later, after a very happy marriage, they excitedly arrived in Chattanooga in Tennessee to fulfil Joe’s lifetime dream.
Joe was in seventh heaven, soaking up his musical dream.

(175 WORDS)

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

This is in response to a challenge hosted by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. If you would like to participate in this challenge or need more information, please click the following link:

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

DAILY PROMPT ~ 2nd SEPTEMBER 2015 ~ ETERNAL LIFE

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Image © Copyright ~ John and Margaret

DAILY PROMPT on Word Press ~ Sept. 1st 2015
Golden Age
If you had to live forever as either a child, an adolescent, or an adult, which would you choose — and why?

~~~~~

ETERNAL LIFE

By John Yeo

Living forever is a very wide, frighteningly difficult prospect to imagine indeed.
The three categories all raise some very difficult and probably unanswerable questions. My first impulse was to think adult, certainly, but even so this choice raises some very formidable questions.

(1) I will start with the prospect of living forever as a child? The questions leap off the page. Would I forever have the mind of a child? I don’t think so. A steady accumulation of knowledge gleaned from every source would certainly alter the thinking process, the mind surely would develop and grow. Would living forever as a child require the same dependence on adults to shelter, feed and provide for the needs of the everlasting child. As the birth parents would inevitably live for a normal average lifespan, who would take on the responsibility of caring for an everlasting child at their deaths. Then any potential carers would also die and replacements would have to be found continuously through the succeeding generations.
One of the dreams of the idea of living as a child would be the magical world of discovery, a continual living within the dream of fairy tales and exploration. Sadly this could never happen as the magic and the glitter and gloss would soon wear off and I suspect there would always be an adult inside of the person who opted to live life as a child.

(2) I think the prospect of living forever as an adolescent would be even worse than the prospect of living forever as a child. Adolescence is a time of discovery and finding the path through the pitfalls and heartbreaks that one inevitably encounters on the road to adult-hood. A time of falling in love and facing rejection or a long relationship of give and take, ups and downs with the person desired. Adolescence is a time of hard study as the future beckons and the choice of which road to take beckons the young person. Adolescence is a time of discovery of both good and bad experiences. Friends made now are usually friends for life as the young men and women grow up together, sampling and discovering the pitfalls of this world together. The worst aspect of an everlasting adolescence would be the fact that your closest friends would outgrow you, as they made their way into adulthood. I am writing these words in the belief that I would stay with the physical looks and outlook of an adolescent. Sadly my early friends would slowly die as the limits of a natural lifespan took their toll and I would be hampered from making new adolescent friends as my inevitable growing mind wouldn’t allow for the boredom that would ensue by going to college again. Once again as eternity slowly passed, I suspect that I would eventually become an adolescent in name only.

(3) So far, I think most people who have read this far would say then, the answer to the question is obvious. Alas nothing is as easy as it looks, living forever as an adult could be just as frightening and difficult as the other two alternatives, if not more difficult. As one enters adulthood, there is no actual borderline between adolescence and adulthood as many people become adults at very different times in their lives. Some grow up very fast and to some the phase of adulthood comes very slowly perhaps with a nasty shock as new responsibilities become apparent. I will say that an adult is a person who has developed an individual way of life, settled in a chosen career, or not, as fate would dictate. Perhaps they are in a relationship with a spouse or a very good friend, and they have children, or perhaps they are loving and living an individual lifestyle with a circle of firm friends. Now comes the difficult harsh truth, you are going to live forever! Loved ones will die, your children will age and die, your friends will age and die.
I suspect living forever in any of these three stages of life could be the loneliest prospect imaginable.
Unless the whole generation and the following generations were all going to live forever as fully matured people. I am sure that from childhood through adolescence to adulthood is an unalterable natural progression and to be stuck in any one mode would be sadly unnatural.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (39)

I am taking part in Mondays Finish the Story 24/08/2015, which is a challenge that provides a photo prompt and the opening sentence to your story. The rules indicate that the story you come up with must be between 100-150 words, not including the given opening sentence.

The link below takes you to Part Thirty-Eight

https://johnandmargaret1607.wordpress.com/2015/08/25/mysterious-island-38/

M I 39

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Finish the story begins with:

“The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode.”

Very few people attended the funeral of the wealthy Maxwell Dickus, a lot of people were startled, but glad to hear this news. The feeling was this parasite had gone to the right resting place and would feel at home in this particular abode.
The Brigadier was shocked when his interrogation unit was penetrated and an assassin killed Maxwell Dickus. The guards were under suspicion and interrogated.
Acting upon the information gleaned from the drone, Don Fernando’s team smashed into the hidden complex and after some fierce fighting were now in control. Marg, reunited with Don Fernando and Bella made arrangements to break into a strong room and strip the ill-gotten gains.
Dr. Dickus was missing, it was believed he had linked up with the mysterious Luigi and was now in hiding.
Marg, shocked and saddened that Paul Strang’s helicopter team were dead, patiently waited………Unexpectedly the boobytrap…….

(149 WORDS)
To be continued

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

The link below takes you to Part Thirty-Eight

https://johnandmargaret1607.wordpress.com/2015/08/25/mysterious-island-38/

mondays-finish-the-story-2

https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved