but you don’t need to be able to write to do so.”
This last statement really angered Trevor, who was now becoming a little red in the face. He shook his head sharply saying: “A genius is a genius. When a person is described in such a way they are always super intelligent.”
Linda gave another shrug. “How do you sum up intelligence”, she said. “Darwin discovered evolution, perhaps humanities greatest realisation. Ask the same guy to write you a compelling sonnet and he’d no doubt look at you like the dirty great ape we all sprang from.”
At this Trevor had no reply.
The two talked for a while longer before Trevor said it was time for him to go. He made as though he’d enjoyed there little chat even though any fool could see how flustered he had become.
As they said their final goodbye’s and Linda showed Trevor out of the house, he turned and said one last final farewell, and as Linda closed the door she said: “See you. It’s been very nice meeting you…”
The last thing she said as the door closed was his name, but only a whisper was heard. She might have said Barry, he couldn’t say for certain. But it sure did sound like Trevor.
And that’s about that.
Epilogue
Linda Wilson carried on writing stories and posting them on Smashwords. Throughout the next few years her popularity grew and she even managed to make some decent money from some of her writing.
She never became a mega famous best selling author but a publishing company did sign her up and she found that the money she made from this meant that eventually she could become a full time writer and employ and editor to iron out any human error. It was not the fairytale ending she had perhaps dreamed of but she still enjoyed making her own little niche in the writing world.
The increased wage also meant that her husband Danny could quit his job at the factory and look for better (if slightly less paid) work. He ended up getting a job as a landscape gardener (a proper job), working seasonally for nine months of the year. And throughout the rest of there lives the two remained very happy.
After a long drive back home Trevor Ian Thomson headed straight for his computer. He signed onto Smashwords and prepared to expose Linda Wilson as Jack Van Mason. It would be a cheap dig, but none the less he would take great satisfaction from it.
However as he signed onto the website he looked at the profile before him. It was not his own.
Suddenly and uncontrollably his hands reached for the keyboard and he watched in horror as his fingers began to type by themselves.
This is what he wrote:
“Hello Trevor. Don’t you recognise me? I’m the little voice inside of you that screams to get out.”
Horrified he jerked his hands away, then looking up into the top right hand corner he gave a gut wrenching scream as he read the name of the profile. He then passed out as the breakdown shook him to the core, and the name of Randy Stodgeflaps registered within him.
Six months later, and after many phiscriatric treatments Trevor Ian Thomson felt a lot better. He managed to get his job back, teaching English after a total recovery from his mental breakdown.
He never wrote again, and never revisited Smashwords just in case his old friend Randy ever materialised again.
I would like to tell you that his whole ordeal had mellowed him. But he remained as bitter and grumpy with his students as he ever had been in the past. You see, no matter where you go, no matter what you do and who you meet. Just around the corner, lurking away and annoying anyone who will listen... There will be one of them!
The world will unfortunately always have its fare share of Trevor Ian Thomson’S.
THE END
(As the writer of this story I would just like to say that there is no doubt I have made various mistakes throughout it.
I would also just like to say that I make no apologies for this what-so-ever)
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