I toyed with writing this post in several orders, but finally decided that cronological was all that the first year of my degree level creative writing course would allow me. As such, this story is probably a little muddled (to say the least).; So, those of you at the picnic will notice that I had thewonderouskara* in England over the last week. Much fun was had during that time, but on Friday she had to leave. One Thursday night she cried, and before long I was crying too. On Friday morning she cried a lot, and our train journey was punctuated by crying, kissing and rapton/t-rex impressions. We got to Gatwick, after about 6 hours journey (I live in't north), and I finally left her balling her eyes out as she went through the departures gate. 5 minutes later I realised I still had her hand luggage. I went to reception, they put a call out for Kara and, after much waiting round, they asked me to go to the US Airways ticket desk, so that someone could take the bag to her. The guy at the desk said "Are you the guy with his wife's luggage?", to which I replied "Girlfriend, yes", but I found the assumption a little confusing, only being 19. While I was waiting to hand the bag over, I heard a rather odd conversation coming from three people behind me. The notable bits went something like this... "I think we should move over there" "No, we're behind a screen, they can't see us" "Why don't we just move in now?" "No just hold on. If they go through Departures we'll follow them there anyway." "Can you see what flight they're getting on?" "[Something incomprehensible, but sounding questioning]" "I can't see if they've checked their bags in... I think they're moving now *short pause, then walk off*" I tried to make sure I was out of the line of fire on that one, but it wasn't easy without looking suspicious. After that little drama, a guy came and took away Kara's bag, and I left the airport for home. On the train home, I recieved a phonecall from Kara saying the plane had been cancelled and asked me what to do. I wasn't entirely sure on the best course of action, so I told her she could probably get a train back up to my house if she wanted, though it'd be a long journey. I then phoned my parents and asked them what Kara should do, and they said she'd have to get a hotel for the night and take the plane in the morning. I told Kara this, but she wasn't happy, so I told her I didn't really know what she should do, and she should really phone my mother and sort it out with her. Apon hearing Kara's sobs, my mum couldn't help but tell Kara to get on the next train. My mum then told me to wait at Preston station (the first station stop to get to my house) for Kara. I arrived in Preston at 7 p.m., and after an hour and a half of waiting at Preston station, it was announced that the lights were no longer functioning and they would have to close the station. It was about an hour in the freezing cold before they got the lights back on. I waited until 11.30 p.m., calling my parents on reverse charges and annoying them every half and hour or so, asking when Kara would likely arrive and so forth. At 11.50, the last train roled in, and Kara wasn't on it. I panicked and rang my parents, who said they would ring the transport police. I turned around, and, emerging from an unannounced train, from a platform that a guy on the station had closed for the night, came Kara, weilding her incredibly heavy bags, with a quizical look on her face, and prettier than I think I've ever seen her before. I ran towards her and, when I got to her, nearly crushed her. We got a taxi home for £30 and that night I feel asleep on the sofa, before being moved to my bed. This morning I saw her off at Manchester Airport (her dad got the tickets changed she she wouldn't have to travel all the way to Gatwick again) and it felt strange, like she'd already gone before, but now I was saying goodbye to someone else. I got home and looked in my room to find all her stuff had gone from my floor, and I felt pretty lost. I looked for the Zebra I have to remind me of her (we both bought each other a toy zebra, mine is called Zebediah, and Kara's in Zelda), but I can't find them, I'm going to turn the house upside down in a second... I think maybe Kara packed it by accident... Apologies if there are errors in this, I'm pretty tired at the moment. "If I were broke, I would rather spend money on my appearance than on food" - Sherron Mayes www.bondynet.demon.co.uk/eurosexuals Peter p.s. Hello to everyone at the picnic, I had a fantanstic time, despite nearly dying after the football match. Very hello to everyone I met there, and to everyone I was re-united with. Very very hello to Sir Kenneth of Chu for agreeing to adopt Kara, all we need now is a twee chaplain to marry us in the eyes of Sinister and she's sorted for living in Inkland. p.p.s. Will Lucy Alder mail me off list about the various music related matters we discussed, because I don't have your e-mail stored on this computer. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+