Not For Love Nor Money

Now I understand the level of concern after the media reports on the alarming rate of infection of the coronavirus. I have seen the news reports and of course I’ve been emailing all of my friends who live over in China to check how they are.

But we are struggling at work here in London. We have long queues at the surgery, and half of those waiting to see us just want to know where they can obtain surgical masks. The demand here in England is not usually very high. You don’t often see people wearing them. Suddenly, lots of people want them. They are anxious.

We have tried to obtain surgical masks for the practice and we cannot. Not for love nor money can we get hold of any! We have been told that many of the large pharmacy chains cannot order them. Some of the independent pharmacies seem to have had the foresight to stock them, however the demand has been greater than anticipated, so they have depleted their stocks.

We were told to direct patients to Amazon. But we looked on Amazon and the Fortuna surgical masks that have been recommended were showing as only available at the end of February.

In the meantime our patients are anxious. Most of them are either planning to travel to South East Asia or wish to send masks over to family who live in lands with restrictions and cannot buy face masks in their area. We are discussing hand washing good hygiene with patients who are anxious, but we don’t know what to say with regards to facemasks.

 

My Bank Manager Is Going To Be Celebrating

It’s Friday and…I just got paid!!! Phew! January is always a long month. But this month I have had to do a lot of extra work. I have been paid more than twice as much as I normally do! My bank are going to be wondering what on earth is going on!

Oh well…the bank manager can think whatever they want. I was on my feet for long long days and smiling for twelve hours straight. Most of our patients are amazing, but I will be honest with you, there are times when the smile wants to vanish. But hey…it’s a whole month and the difficult patients have not got to me yet!

It’s the weekend, and I might even buy myself a treat. I have not had any cake all month. Don;t you think I deserve a slice now?

An Ethical Dilemma

Teresa’s challenge for today should have been easy for me. Afterall, I do work in a medical practice!

Your challenge today, should you accept it, is to take put on your mask and gloves and write your best Medical Mystery tale and see where it leads…or whatever/wherever the picture takes you.

https://maplesswanderer.wordpress.com/2020/01/30/daily-writing-prompt-30/

Boy oh boy, I had no idea where I was going with this one. I found it really hard! Which is odd considering all the experience I have in various aspects of medical care. I just had no ideas. So I started typing and a mystery even I could not solve developed!

Doctor Plumley had a dilemma of conscience. He was wading into an ethical quagmire with the case he had taken on. The young girl he had just operated on had a secret to hide and she had demanded her right to confidentiality. She was in fear of her very life if her family were to find out. Yet Dr Plumley knew that he had a professional obligation to report his findings to the police or child protection services.

But Surita had made her mind up not to give Dr Plumley the chance to debate the ethics in this case. She had fled from the hospital before the discharge paperwork could even be started.

Dr Plumley decided to go to talk to Surita and explain the position he was in. But as he arrived on the ward, there was no sign of Surita or her belongings. When the nurses realized she had left vanished, they were astonished. While they poured over her admission paperwork in search of her mobile phone number, a lady in the bed opposite to the one Surita had occupied called out, “She only left a few minutes ago. She’ll still be somewhere in the hospital.”

Hearing this information, Dr Plumley ran out of the ward and towards the elevators that led down to the ground floor of the hospital. Surita would have to be heading towards the bus station outside the hospital. There was a figure ahead of him, carrying a backpack and wearing a baseball cap. Dr Plumley caught up with her.

There was a look of terror in her eyes, “They will kill me!” she cried.

“Who is it you’re afraid of? You’re family?”

Surita cried out, “My marriage has been arranged by my parents. I am supposed to marry an infamous drugs baron named Chitteo. I fell in love with Samuel. If they knew they would kill both of us.”

“But you’re only fourteen Surita. Samuel could be charged with peodiphilia.”

Surita looked horrified. My wedding is next month. I would have become the wife of a notorious criminal. Samuel is a good man. He will protect me and our child.”

Dr Plumley shook his head, “I can’t let you go Surita. I have an obligation to report this to child services.”

As they spoke there was the toot of a car horn. A car pulled over besides them. Surita turned to Dr Plumley, “We are going to flee for our lives. Literally. Please don’t let them find out. I beg you!”

Dr Plumley felt frozen to the spot as he witnessed Surita climb into Samuel’s car. He knew it was wrong for the fourteen year old to be fleeing with the father of her child. But something about the haunting terror in her eyes told him that what she said was true.

Dr Plumley returned to the ward. After receiving inquiries from the nurses, he indicated he had not been able to locate Surita. In his office that evening, he signed off the paperwork from the day’s schedule. He removed the record of Surita’s pregnancy from her medical notes.

For the next few weeks Dr Plumley’s conscience was tormented. Especially when he heard of several shady looking characters turning up at the hospital to try to trace the case files relating to Surita’s admission to the hospital. Apparently, they had been aggressive on discovering Surita had not been officially discharged, but had walked out of the hospital without anyone noticing.

One day Dr Plumley received a phone call that eased his anxiety. It was Surita. “Where are you Surita? I have been so worried.”

“I can’t tell you. But I am safe. Samuel and I have changed our names and have managed to find a refuge to hide away. Thank you so much for helping me Dr Plumley.”

“Stay safe Surita.”

“Chitteo, the man I was engaged to be married to, he is very dangerous. You mustn’t tell anyone that you let me leave with Samuel. He will seek revenge if he discovers the truth. You could be in danger Dr Plumley.”

The following morning, a nurse walked into Dr Plumley’s office and was shocked to find him lent over his desk, with congealed blood pooled below his head. The police investigation discovered that Dr Plumley’s telephone had been bugged. Camera footage showed two men in dark suits had entered the corridor where Dr Plumley’s office was located, half an hour after an international call was made to his office. The two men were seen on the video departing a couple of minutes later.

Beyond Self-Analysis

I tried analysing my every thought and feeling in the quest to understand the pain I carried. I went back over every frame of my life, from my earliest memories. I thought that the only way to move forward was to go back and search through my past and try to make sense of it all.

However…there was a limited benefit. Some of the self-analysis was helpful and perhaps wholesome. But some of it was grueling and led to nowhere. I was at risk of becoming locked into a self absorbed state. I had begun to question everything and everyone that has graced the course of my life.

So I chose to draw a line on how much self analysis was beneficial. I decided to look back on the happy memories, the profound moments that have inspired me and ignited fire in my bones. I accepted that every moment in my life has made a mark on me. I won’t go back and edit the past.

I have made my mind up. I want to live without the shadows from the past darkening my outlook. I want to seize hope and joy and love and believe that there is a lot of wonderful ahead of me. The lessons I learnt from a limited period of self-analysis may be helpful. But now I am ready to get on with living the rest of my life. Are you ready for me?

________________

This was my response to the picture prompt provided for FANDANGO’S FLASH FICTION CHALLENGE:

https://fivedotoh.com/2020/01/27/fandangos-flash-fiction-challenge-51

Can Sparkles And Smiles Hide How Scared I Am?

I wrote this a couple of weeks ago…before that big night out with Jack – our first public event together as a couple.

I have had a lot of time to plan for my first official public outing with Jack. I have been watching what I eat for a while. I have been trying to walk everywhere instead of catching the bus. Jack has done a lot of walking with me too.

I am not overly obsessed with the way I look. So long as I am clean and tidy – I am happy. Somebody said to me many years ago, many people (he said especially women) are so concerned with the way they themselves look, they don’t pay all that much attention to the way you are looking. That is perhaps a bit debatable, but I realized that as a teenager, I spent most of my time worrying about the way I looked, rather than the way anyone else’s appearance, So, I told myself there is a lot of truth in what my friend said – and I should not become obsessive about the way I look.

But the thing is…being in public with Jack means something I hate! It means cameras! I hate seeing myself in photographs. That is why I have been being more strict with myself than usual.

Anyway…Jack has brought me tremendous peace of mind and joy of heart these past few months. I am sure all of that internal healing has been better for my complexion and confidence than any amount dieting or exercise.

So…in planning for our first public outing, all I needed was a dress. I love my friends…we have had fun trying things on me and one of my gorgeous friends lent me a sparkly dress (which I would probably never have looked at in a shop myself). But in the end I have chosen to wear a Ted Baker dress I found in a charity shop a while ago. It is more my thing, navy blue with gorgeous flowers on it. Nonetheless, I will sparkle in it! Wearing a beautiful dress is another helpful way to feel a bit less terrified!

I just hope I make Jack proud. That’s all that matters! It’s a huge deal in my head at the moment. In fact…I am so super scared, I think I am going to schedule this post to be published after the event. I can’t think about it at the moment. It’s all so daunting. I keep telling myself, just think of Jack, just enjoy being next to him.

It will be all be over after a few hours of smiling and chatting. Ugh! Here we go!

The Plot To Free Emperor Jugzathan

Teresa is taking us space-trekking across the universe today! All I have for my inspiration is the Star Wars movies and a handful of Star Trek episodes (there was this boy I liked when I was around thirteen and he loved Star Trek!)

Your challenge today, should you accept it, is to take to the skies once more and write your best Galactic Empire tale and see where it leads…or whatever/wherever the picture takes you. 

https://maplesswanderer.wordpress.com/2020/01/29/daily-writing-prompt-29/

I started this little story with a sort of idea…but I am so sleepy, I gave up. Instead I have tagged on another story that I wrote for one of Teresa’s prompts last year. I have kind of melded them together.

The entire Omega Sector had been at peace for the past twenty years thanks to the rule of Lord Scrugkapugur and Princess Chatalia. The imprisonment of Emperor Jugzathan in a temporal freeze prison in the Epsilon Sector had brought the mercenary domination of the Intergalactic Trade Union to a halt.

However, there were some of the pirate space traders who still loyal to Emperor Jugzathan and plotted to free him. Under the powerful emperor, they sought to reestablish their exploitation of the mineral rich planets in the Omega Sector.

The temporal freeze prison had weakened Emperor Jugzathan’s powers. He needed to unite with someone with a high quasiquant factor in their genetic code. He knew exactly who had the potential to develop their powers to become his co-ruler of the galactic empire he had developed before the war with Lord Scrugkapugar.

***

As Quarek and Ruftix were leaving the holodeck, after a few rounds of the latest programming version of their favourite sport Mandahits, they heard disturbing screams which seemed to be coming from the mess-hall.

“Holy meteor showers! What is going on?” cried Ruftix.

“Come on, let’s check it out.” said Quarek after opening one of the nearby emergency service portals and reaching for two hand held proton emitters.

The two senior officers who held high ranking stations on board the GOSS (Global Outer-Space Service) Lightbeam ran towards the mess-hall.

Suddenly Ruftix fell to the ground holding his head in his hands.

“Ruftix! What’s wrong buddy?”

“That noise – aaaaagh! It’s intense. It hurts like a Humbodlian’s racktor. Can’t you hear it Quarek?“

“I can’t hear any noise, only the screams coming form the mess-hall. Focus Ruftix – try to fight it.“

Whatever the noise Ruftix could hear in his head, it was disabling him. He was curled up on the floor writhing with whatever was disturbing him. “Commander Quarek to sick bay.“

“Sick bay here Commander Quarek.”

“I need an emergency unit sent to the starboard side of Deck 36 – between the holodecks and the mess-hall. Lieutenant Commander Ruftix is in severe distress. He reports hearing an intense sound that has completely disabled him.”

“A medical unit is being dispatched immediately Commander Quarek.”

“Ruftix, sick bay is on the way buddy. Hold in there buddy. I am going to have to go on to the mess-hall.”

Ruftix was being tormented so much by the sound he could hear, he could hardly respond to Quarek. Quarek carried on towards the mess-hall. On the way he passed other members of the star-ships crew who were also writhing around on the floor holding their heads. It seemed they were suffering the same torment as Ruftix. It seemed strange to Quarek that he was not effected by whatever they could hear.

As soon as he came to the entrance to the mess-hall he could see that everyone there was in exactly the same state. It was very hard to see so many of his crew-members in obvious agony, but not to see any obvious cause.

“Commander Quarek to the bridge.”

“This is Captain Ladsamann Commander.”

“Captain, there is a strange phenomenon occurring on Deck 36. All the crew members in the mess-hall and surrounding areas seem to be hearing an intense sound that is causing them debilitating pain. For some reason I am unable to hear it. But there are hundreds here in severe distress. An emergency unit from sick-bay has been dispatched. But we may be under some kind of hostile invasion.”

“Stand by Commander. A security team are on the way.” Captain Ladsamann ordered the security officer to lead a team to Deck 36 and for the whole ship to be put on Yellow alert.

Quarek realized that there was somebody else in the mess-hall who was not affected by the sound that was tormenting his crew mates. He had not noticed at first, but now his eyes were focused on a figure standing on the opposite side of the mess-hall.

“Emperor Jugzathan! You have escaped your prison in the Epsilon Sector. Is this your doing?”

“Commander Quarek – you don’t seem to be effected the same way as your crew mates.”

“You won’t get away with it Jugzathan! Evil will never win.”

“No Quarek. You don’t understand. I am not really evil. I just had a very bad childhood. I was born into a violent family and a violent race. My home planet was destroyed during the civil war. And then when I married the Princess Chatalia, she turned out to be as cruel as my parents were. Then she left me for that rogue Scrugkapugur and accused me of treating her badly. All lies – I am the real victim.  I suspected her insidious plot. Chatalia and her minion intend to start a war with the neighbouring Mashtak galaxy,“

“All lies Jugzathan! We all know Her Highness Princess Chatalia is incorruptible. She and Lord Scrugkapugur are bringing peace to the galaxy.“

“Quarek, she is your mother. She abandoned you at the temple on the planet you grew up on Karkaw. That’s why you were raised by the priests who serve there.”

Quarek felt uncomfortable hearing Jugzathan refer to his personal upbringing. He had been raised in secret by those priests on Karkaw and had never known his parents. It provoked him to hear someone he regarded as one of the galaxy’s most hated villians talk of so much that was close to his heart.

“I don’t believe you Jugzathan. Stop whatever you are doing to the crew NOW.”

“I will Quarek. Do not fear – they will not be harmed. They won’t even remember the sound when it stops. It’s the sound of a distress signal my people had genetically modified into our DNA. When under attack we were able to emit a pulse that debilitated our enemies. But we could not hear it ourselves. It allowed us to escape attackers.”

“So why can’t I hear it?”

“Because Quarek – you are my son.”

At that the members of the crew stopped screaming and wailing and started to pick themselves up off the floor. They were a little confused at first, but as Jugzathan had said, nobody seemed to remember the sound or their previous distress.

When the security team arrived in the mess-hall they found all of the crew members there were behaving normally.

There was only one member of the crew in distress. Overwhelmed with all he had heard, Quarek dropped to his knees, “Nooooooooooo!”

Wisdom Is Better Than Gold

This is a recycled FANDANGO’S PROVOCATIVE QUESTION, so…because I have to work all afternoon, I thought I might recycle and slightly tweak my response to a similar question another blogger asked recently.

This is Fandango’s question:

“What do you think is more useful:

intelligence or wisdom, and why do you feel that way?”

It might be fair to say that you can’t really have the latter without having at least a little bit of the former. But as for which is more useful, I would have thought most would agree that wisdom is finer and more useful.

Generally, I associate intelligence as the accumulation of information or knowledge. Computers and machines are said to possess a form of “intelligence”. However, since there is an abundance of false information, false knowledge riddled with inaccuracies – the amassing of information and knowledge is not necessarily a positive thing.

A person can have little knowledge of the trillions of subjects out there, but they may have a little true and accurate knowledge that is far more empowering and enriching than the abundance of nonsense that has been published.

The acquisition of knowledge is the start of learning, I suppose. Yet the ability to discern between true and false is of vital import. Understanding the information one has acquired and how it relates to the foundation of true and eternal principles is the next key step to learning. This ability helps one to reject information that clearly does not fit the pattern of truth.

But beyond that is what could be termed the end of learning: wisdom. Correctly applying the knowledge and understanding one now possesses. It is wisdom that shows true evidence of superior learning, not the possession of a vast amount of information.

I was talking to a colleague recently. I think my colleague is curious about some of my decisions in life. I explained that I had choices. I was achieving A grades throughout school. I come from an academic family. My older siblings and cousins had been to renowned universities and were immersed in lucrative careers. I was the rebel perhaps, although I did not have a rebellious spirit.

I chose to prioritise unpaid volunteer work over the opportunities within the commercial world. I have rejected all sorts of notions this “world” promotes. I have no wish to get on to the property ladder. The concept of a mortgage is baffling to me. Why would I enslave myself like that? I have no wish to become a slave to a business intent on making profit.

I have lived a rich and rewarding life on a shoestring budget. Working as a volunteer has opened up opportunities to me that I would not have had if I had pursued my own material comforts.

Some people make a snap judgement when they learn that I rejected higher education. But this is a decision I have never regretted. I saw what higher education did to some of my family members. Those who pursued academia have not ended up with the more balanced education and practical training that the rest of our family opted for. I have never stopped learning. I am a long term student who is fascinated by many subjects. I read a huge amount of material and I exercise discernment as I read. There are so many opposing theories and philosophies, many of them a mix of half-truths and conjecture.

But having a clear grasp of basic truths is a huge aid to sorting through the never ending “information” overload that we are bombarded with.

I think wisdom today includes a knowledge and experience in how people behave. Wisdom is reflected in how you react to the way others treat you. If someone had poor relationships with others, I would tend to question their “wisdom”.

I believe wisdom is also manifest by the choices and decisions someone makes, their habits and lifestyle. When someone appears to be unable to look after themselves properly, I find it hard to credit them with wisdom no matter how many “qualifications” and “certificates” they may profess to have.

There are so many other areas that show whether someone is wise: how we use time, how we spend money, our attitude to debt, how we view and treat our possessions, how easily swayed we are by sensationalism and propaganda, our abilities to reason and consider what may contradict some of our treasured beliefs.

Some seem to be focused on the acquisition of more and more conflicting, confusing, and capricious information. Others appear to have a tight hold of basic truths and show they have developed discernment, understanding and wisdom.

Many people are pursuing things that do not bring true happiness. In fact, this world is designed to encourage people to pursue vain, empty goals. Is it wise to conform to a system that pats you on the back if you pass it’s tests? Follow it’s goals? Define success by it’s standards? It is alarming how many people are seeking things that will soon be gone forever!

All that glitters is not gold. So much of what this world promotes as “success” is vain and empty. Many find that out too late. Wisdom is better than gold! It is better than the goals of this world.

I could go on discussing this subject for hours, but I don’t really want to make this a never-ending post!

__________________

https://fivedotoh.com/2020/01/29/fandangos-provocative-question-2-revisited/

A New Turn On The Road Of Life

I keep on thinking about this time last year. I was pretty lost. It was towards the end of January, the beginning of February that I was really wondering why I felt so sick all the time and made an appointment to see a Doctor.

Anyway…the reason I mention it is that I am amazed at the drastic change in my life. I never expected Jack to make contact like he did last September. Sometimes as I live my life and it takes the oddest turns and changes in direction, I wonder where on earth I am going to end up.

But I have learnt not to be overly anxious. The journey itself is sometimes riveting. I learn so much along the way. I meet other fascinating travellers journeying through life. The scenic views are rewarding. The sense of accomplishment, the “look how far I have come!” sensation and the wonder at what the road ahead will hold.

Sometimes things might be going in a direction that concerns you. You may feel you have little control. But do what you know is good, kind, loving. It is amazing at how a situation can be reversed, sometimes very suddenly.

I am glad that Jack came back to find me. I love journeying along this road of life with him.

Pretend We’re On A Date

Teresa’s prompt today makes me think of some of the things that went on when I was back at high school. I have to admit, I would not go back there if you paid me a fortune. I sympathise so much with teenagers who have to endure that ordeal! The great news is, it will end. You will escape and have chance to live the real life!

Your challenge today, should you accept it, is to explore your teenager and write your best Young Adult tale and see where it leads…or whatever/wherever the picture takes you.

https://maplesswanderer.wordpress.com/2020/01/28/daily-writing-prompt-28/

When I saw the photo, I thought back Annabelle when she was a teenager, before her relationship with Dean began. I wrote a flash fiction post a few weeks ago, called Make It Special, about some of the kids at school who were making fun of Annabelle. This is a follow on from that.

Annabelle pulled out her phone to read the text message that she had just received:

“HE’S A COMPLETE LOSER NAN. WHY DON’T YOU COME OVER AND HANG OUT WITH ME AND THE BAND?”

She sighed as she read Dean’s message. Dean had warned her when she showed him the note she had found sticking out of her locker. At first he had thought it might not have anything to do with Trent Walker. Dean thought it could have been some of the same cheerleaders who had been teasing Annabelle for weeks about Trent, who had written the note.

The note had contained an invitation to go out for coffee at The Bella Ragazza Brasserie that Saturday and claimed to be from Trent. Annabelle had been suspicious about it. She was still feeling the sting of humiliation after he had asked her if she wanted to go with him to the dance, and given him somebody else’s number to reply. Annabelle was certain he was being put up by the cheerleaders to make fun of her.

Seeing him coming in from football practice, she had presented the note to Trent in the corridor and asked him if he had written the note. Some of the other guys on the football team sniggered as they watched Annabelle challenging Trent. He had darted a look towards some of the cheerleaders who were giggling, before he replied that he had written the note himself.

Realizing that all eyes were upon her, Annabelle had responded, “You didn’t say what time.”

When Annabelle had told Dean about what happened, he had been very sceptical. “The guy is a complete jerk Nan. Don’t take it seriously.”

“But I think he might actually show up. I don’t think he is interested in me. But why would he admit in front of everyone that he had sent me a note inviting me out for coffee and then agree a time with me? I just want to go down there, and if he comes, I want to tell him that the cheerleader bitches have been laughing at me for weeks about him, so I’d appreciate it if he could just back off and quit beefin’ me.”

“He’s jerking you around Nan. Why don’t I come down there with you and say something to him?”

When Saturday arrived Dean dropped off Annabelle outside The Bella Regazza Brasserie. “I thought you were just going to tell him to quit bugging you. Why the hell have you put that stuff all over your face? You don’t need to go making yourself pretty for him.”

“Aaaaw Dean, did you just call me pretty?”

“Get out of here spud-face. I’ve got to be at Liam’s in half an hour for band practice. If you’re not finished with him by then, you’re walking home,” he told Annabelle as she climbed out of Dean’s car.

Almost as soon as Annabelle was sat down, she realized that she had been set up. She recognised some of the football team and cheerleaders, when they walked into the brasserie and sat down near to where they could see her. She tried to pretend she had not noticed them, but out of the corner of her eye, she realized they were laughing and whispering about her. After reading the text message Dean had sent to her, she sent another back to him:

“DEAN, PLEASE GET IN HERE. HALF THE SCHOOL ARE HERE TO WATCH ME BEING PUT DOWN. PLEASE COME IN AND PRETEND YOU ARE HERE FOR A DATE OR SOMETHING. PLEASE!”

Within a few minutes Dean appeared. Annabelle grinned. He slid into the seat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder, “What’s going on?” he whispered into her ear.

“Thanks for coming in Dean. The cheerleaders and most of the football team walked in just after I arrived. Whatever Trent is planning, they have all come to watch.”

Dean muttered, “They’re a bunch of friggin’ freaks. Why don’t we get out of here?”

Annabelle gasped, “Here he is! It’s Trent. Pretend you’re in to me.”

Dean stroked the side of Annabelle’s face with his fingers. Staring into her eyes, he asked her, “Are you trying to make him jealous?”

Annabelle was could see Trent walking towards her table, arm and arm with Backa, one of the nastiest girls on the cheerleading team. But ignoring Trent, she spoke quietly to Dean, “Why would I want to make him jealous? Dean, you are just rescuing me from being the victim of another one of their cruel wind-ups. I just want these idiots to realize that they can’t make me as miserable as they seem to want me to be.”

Dean smiled with pride, “Nan, you’re worth so much more than they are. You deserve to be happy.”

Annabelle wrapped her hands around Dean’s as Trent and Becka lingered just a few steps away from the table she and Dean were sat at. Bringing her face close to Dean’s she murmured, “Thank you for being my friend.”

He rested his lips against her forehead, “You’re not just a friend Nan. You’re more than that to me. Much more.”

Annabelle’s eyebrows knotted together in confusion, “You don’t need to overdo it Dean.”

Dean grumbled into her ear, “God, you are such a brat. Can we go now? I need to get over to Liam’s.”

“Yeah, let’s leave these suckers behind. Can we hold hands on the way out? Let them think we’re into each other.”

 

I’m Still Dancing Over A Week Later!

I am still remembering some of the songs we danced to last weekend. I was tearing up the dance floor that night – if I do say so myself! Man, it was fun!

The only problem is that when you dance like that, you get a bit sweaty. That lovely dress I was wearing. is going to need dry-cleaning. Having worked at one stage for a dry-cleaners, I know just where to take it.

This was a fabulous song to dance to. A lot of people jumped to the dance floor as soon as they heard it. That’s the mark of a great dance track. How many people hear the first few bars and decide they want to get up and have a boogie.

I hope I am able to do a lot more dancing with Jack. Such awesome fun! I need to cheer him up, because he has been so upset by what happened with the young man he was helping. He keeps mentioning it when we talk. When he returns to London, maybe I will find a way to get him dancing again. Even it’s just at home.