Jonathan Townend
Bio
I love writing articles & fictional stories. They give me scope to express myself and free my mind. After working as a mental health nurse for 30 years, writing allows an effective emotional release, one which I hope you will join me on.
Stories (105)
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Have You Ever Entered A Writing Competition?
A successful competition for me is always going out there and putting 100 percent into whatever I'm doing. It's not always winning. People, I think, mistake that it's just winning. Sometimes it could be, but for me, it's hitting the best sets I can, gaining confidence, and having a good time and having fun. Simone Biles.
By Jonathan Townend4 years ago in Journal
NaNoWriMo Personal Challenge.
‘Failure gave me strength. Pain was my motivation.’ Michael Jordan. I love writing, and everything that comes from putting meaningful words together to make each & every story. This mere act supports me positively through my daily fight against my pain…
By Jonathan Townend4 years ago in Motivation
💖What It Took For Me To Learn The True Meaning Of Love💖.
Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets these things confused with love, but in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all pain and makes someone feel wonderful again. Love is the only thing in this world that does not hurt… Mesa Selimovic
By Jonathan Townend4 years ago in Motivation
The Concealed Culture Deep Within (part ten.)
Just a few floors above the hospital cafeteria, the ward was eerily silent, but for the incessant 'bleep bleep' noises being emitted from the electronic monitoring equipment all lit by an array of red, blue, green, and yellow, status panels, that were dotted around the 4-bedded independent bay areas, giving the bays more of a sci-fi spaceship-type appearance, rather than simply just one of the many hospital wards. Darkness had long ago shrouded 'Hawthorne 2' ward into night mode. There was a total absence of the usual bright luminescence that otherwise bathed the ward through its waking daytime hours. A slimmed-down complement of staff, every couple of hours, could be noted to be milling around the nursing station areas outside of each bay, tapping inpatient reports into the numerous computers, giving a short respite from the noises of the monitoring equipment in the bays by adding to them with an almost rhythmical 'tap, tap, tap' as fingers met with keyboards. Many a night was much the same as the last, nothing untoward would usually be happening. The night shift had long before nicknamed the nighttime as the graveyard shift, the only difference being was that graveyards never displayed flashing neon-type lights on top of tombstones but save for the main ward corridor where the nurse stations could be found, each bay was cloaked in darkness. Every physical patient check and monitoring check was met by the staff equipped with torches to light their way around each of the beds.
By Jonathan Townend4 years ago in Fiction
The Concealed Culture Deep Within (part nine.)
The little girl had been lying in the hospital bed where she had been transferred up from the emergency department, for just about a little over an hour now. Her mum had been sat fast to the typically uncomfortable hospital chair, next to Josie's assigned bed all that time, willing for her daughter to show some sign that she was coming round. But so far, nothing. No flickering coming from the girl's eyelids, which for all the years up until recently, had been so bright and cheery, normally wide with bright green pupils the color of sparkling emeralds, interlaced only by tiny gentle flecks of light blue in their centers, which had almost always glistened when Josie had been excited or happy about some part of her life.
By Jonathan Townend4 years ago in Fiction
The Concealed Culture Deep Within (part eight.)
"On it, I'll bring the slider board too!" shouted Ellen, as she fast-paced back to the ambo to fetch more blankets to wrap Josie in, who might well be responding through indications of the existence of a pulse at the time but, unfortunately, was still not in a position of providing any outward physical responses. Her heart rate was back in regular sinus rhythm right now, however, so her body was back in the land of the living, so to speak, but her eyes remained closed and her extremities were unresponsive to any outward stimuli. To all intense purposes, the young girl was really in no way safely out of the woods yet, not by a long shot.
By Jonathan Townend4 years ago in Fiction
The Concealed Culture Deep Within (part six.)
It became almost like a competition to Lucy. Between her consciousness and the ticking strikes of the lounge clock above her head. To say that she was worried was most probably the biggest understatement in history. Probably any mother would be feeling like this right now. After all, she had no idea where her precious daughter was, or where she had been, all this time since she had seemingly vanished after they had both been together earlier that same day in the doctor's surgery. Her frantic mind was searching through all the many different scenarios. Had she been hurt, had she been taken off somewhere by anybody, or had she simply decided that bunking off school was a much cooler idea? The truth is that she simply just had no concrete ideas as to where she was, or what had occurred since the end of the appointment.
By Jonathan Townend4 years ago in Fiction
The Concealed Culture Deep Within (part five.)
As she had finished up her coffee, a part of her head was telling her to get a hold of herself. So what? At the end of the day, it wasn't unknown for any parent to have to put up with their child disappearing off for hours at a time, not telling their mum or dad where they were going, or indeed what they were going to get up to be doing.
By Jonathan Townend4 years ago in Fiction
