Tag Archives: had

The Magic of Auto-correction

Posted on by under 2022, April 2022 - Magic

Hubert was struggling. Progress on the Business Improvement Plan requested, rather mandated, by the Directors of News Wales Live Radio was tortuous. Analytics had diagnosed a 25%  audience fall -off after the third quarter- hour. Perhaps change the bumper music. Done. Replace the liner front-selling the next guest…. possible. Could be a one hour programme was simply too long. Rearranging the playlist would address the former. The latter was frightening, heralding a possible cut to his hours and a corresponding reduction in salary. With the legally- enforceable  encumbrances of 3 ex-partners and 7 children to support, a Bentley Meteor to maintain and fuel, plus his 10 tank collection of non-native reptiles and amphibians to feed, house and heat, Hubert had decisions to make. He compiled a list of friends and professional acquaintances and started.  

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A Different kind of Magic

Posted on by under 2022, April 2022 - Magic

Packing up his dad’s old kitbag, Billy excitedly rushed downstairs. The camping trip beckoned. The gang had finally persuaded their parents to let them sleep over at Devil’s Cave near their home.

Summer holidays had started. Most of the boys had jobs for the holidays but this weekend was a boy’s right of passage. His mother had laid out food for them, some bread, a bit of dripping, and some jam tarts. That was my contribution.

Gathering at the end of our road we set off. It was quite a climb to the cave but there was a stream bubbling away alongside the path, so we stopped to fill our pop bottles frequently.

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Pumpkins

Posted on by under 2022, February 2022 - Wealth

            Smayle’s concrete grey face was a Niagara of perspiration. War was ongoing with the slugs and snails. He had three large dustbins on his plot, where he mulched food waste into fertiliser. Little burrowing creatures got in there sometimes, and partook of dinner. Birds, butterflies, and he didn’t know what, slipped under the netting around some of his raised beds. But none of them had inflicted damage on his most prized growth: his pumpkins. His wheelbarrow bulged with them, fat, comfortable, like the heads of yellow turbaned oriental aristocracy.

None of the other allotment holders grew them in such volume Once fully grown these mighty plumped fellows were allowed access to his house, just yards from the allotment gate. Sometimes there were so many, he believed they could practically march down there in military columns.

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Double Trouble

Posted on by under 2022, January 2022 - The Promise

“I’ll get you Lewis! And that’s a promise.”

With his words still ringing in my ears, I hastily packed a suitcase. I just had to get away.

A new town, a fresh start, I could only hope.

I picked up a job quickly and began to settle down.  My jangled nerves were slowly uncurling with each passing day.

It took him six weeks to find me.

I awoke one morning to find a note on the doormat. Things started to spiral out of control.

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Stopping the Santa Invasion

Posted on by under 2021, December 2021 - Christmas
Female protestor in front of Season's Greetings banner

After the speeches, people drifted away from the demonstration, some still wearing outfits representing the main focus of their complaint.

Having responsibly abandoned their placards, a group of five in search of food and drink settled themselves in the Hog’s Head and placed their orders.

These were veteran activists. They had witnessed mounted police moving through the crowds at the poll tax rebellions; they had collective memories of the ‘not in my name’ protests; they had stood with the miners during the long strike; two could even look back to the anti-apartheid rugby protests in 1969. Between them they had been kettled, abused, arrested and beaten.

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Never Give Up Hope

Posted on by under 2021, November 2021 - Never give up hope

As the children tumbled onto the coach chattering to each other, boys headed to the rear, jostling each other for the best seats. Off on a school trip to a zoo, most had never been before, each wanting to see the large animals they had only seen in books.

Singing all the way hymns and nursery rhymes, what a day it turned out to be. Billy and the boys had to stay with Mr. Jenkins, the headmaster, mouths agog at the size of the bears, and the temple monkeys racing around. Riding on the elephant, pretending to be hunting lions, what great fun; so too taking rides on the camels, for the younger children.

Lunch was on the lawn at the centre of the zoo, then off again to see the lions

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Career Change

Posted on by under 2021, November 2021 - Never give up hope

The three hopeful finalists sat in the front row, -a young woman wringing her hands, a guy with pronounced musculature escaping a skinny vest and the staid, 50-something, balding Phil. They had been informed the elimination exercise would follow briefing presentations.

Phil surveyed the cavernous, somehow claustrophobic lecture hall. Wood panelled ceiling and walls reminded him of horror films that in an earlier career-phase he had scoured, researching replicable facial expressions to convey being entombed alive.

Work opportunities as a character actor were becoming sporadic; it was the right time to diversify, to move on. The once familiar minimalist sets of The Grand, – a laden bookcase stage right. a chair centre stage, French Doors with greenery and birdsong stage left, were distant memories since the Catastrophe. How he missed the multiple curtain-calls, the whooping and whistling of an appreciative audience, the after-play drinkies with sound and lighting crews, the informal advice sessions to aspiring drama school students!  Commercial Crisis Acting had never been on the radar but what could he do? The mortgage had to be paid, and in order of priority, the dog, 3 children and a wife fed and clothed. That ranking was correct. Phil prided himself in being particularly self- aware.

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Midnight

Posted on by under 2021, October 2021 - The Mission

My mission had been to submit my story by the deadline.  I was failing fast.

I had to write something. My head was stuffed with a myriad of ideas, but none of them seemed to work.  I sighed as I looked at the pile of screwed up papers overflowing the waste bin.

I reread all the other submissions for what seemed like the tenth time.  What did they have that mine lacked?  Even my analytic powers seemed to have deserted me.

I tried some displacement activities to look for inspiration elsewhere.  My e-mails and You Tube displayed the same as when I had looked before. I came up with no fresh ideas for the story.

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An Abbreviation of Love

Posted on by under 2021, October 2021 - The Mission

What struck Julian were the silvered eyebrows half-way down an oblong face. Most people’s eyebrows are a third of the way down. This displacement, together with a high hairline, left a disconcertingly blank expanse of forehead skin, broken only by a stray wisp of hair escaping diagonally from an oiled and groomed coif to gently caress the outer arch of the right brow.

They had met in Drawing Class five years previously. A common love of philately and the search for the missing, presumed stolen, “Inverted Jennies.” -so named because the stamps’ bi-planes had been printed upside-down, -had propelled an initial halting comradeship into friendship, to them sharing a flat together, then more.

Shane was ostensibly the more extrovert. A favourite entertainment for both was him regaling Julian with colourful yarns of adventures with his “alternative” friends; the “Famous Five” he called them. Sometimes, without warning, “You go out and enjoy yourself. Come back any time after 10.30pm.” Shane would say in his appeasing voice, letting Julian know he had to be out that evening and what time he was permitted to return. Shane would shower, apply aftershave, don his grey and pink checked, 3 piece suit, and complete the “look” so carefully cultivated with a fedora. Julian guessed these evening assignations were with the “Famous Five”, either singly or in various combinations. Him meeting any was out of the question. Not permitted.

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Who Says You Can’t Choose Your Own Family?

Posted on by under 2021, Sept 2021 - You Can't Pick Your Family

Walking out of the courtroom, Zac turned to the couple who had fostered him for the last six years. His face lit up a huge grin on his face. 

”I won, she is out of my life. I’m all yours, you can now adopt me.”

His birth mother stormed out, mouthing abuse at anyone in her path. Zac stood his ground his eyes blazing. Hesitating, his mother met his eyes, turned and stalked away.  

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Lloyd x 2

Posted on by under 2020, September 2020 - Demons

Driving from Cardiff to Swansea, Lloyd found a passenger in his car.

            ‘Who are you?’ he said, slowing.

            ‘Your inner self,’ came the reply.

            The guy certainly looked like him: older, more haggard, greyer. It could be him.

            ‘You’re on the wrong road, Jim,’ the passenger said, ‘every day commuting a ton of miles to that vehicle licensing hole.’

            ‘It’s a job.’

            ‘So’s being a galley slave. How about jumping ship?’

            Port Talbot steelworks skittered by, its Meccano limbs tangled against the grey sky as if in agony. The other Jim had vanished, gone in a spurt of yellow steelworks gas.

            Work went badly. Workmates faces resembled those of ghouls. The phone calls, a hundred ways of asking the same thing about car tax, lapped in his brain with a disturbing echo. He felt outside everything.

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Daffodils

Posted on by under 2020, February 2020 - Desire

The university park stumbled down to the sea, imitating the crazy lurching of the terraced houses on the same giddy hill. Sam scuffed about the paths round the flower beds, vaguely aware of daffodils in bloom.

            He had a sharp, stabbing pain at the side of his stomach that wouldn’t go away. He was utterly miserable. Three years he’d stayed away from the town, but as soon as he’d entered the park – following the route he and Nicola had often walked – the sense of oppression had just welled up from within him. Memories from the past  pushed up a bit like bulbs in the soil.

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Galloping Johnny

Posted on by under 2020, February 2020 - Desire

My name is Stephen Sacks and I’m a complete faggot.

Oh, I know, I know, bluntness is discouraged these days and words like that reek of self-loathing but I’m not pussy footing around, tonight I aim for honesty.

I’ll tell you about a revelation I had last week which stoked the embers and relit my passion. I was at an outdoor pool party, held by my sister’s in-laws. A celebration over the fact they had stuck it out for fifty years.

So, there I was, meekly maundering by the barbecue when I became aware of somebody’s nephew, Johnny whatever, wafting by the swimming pool. And as that handsome youth, wearing nothing but tight trunks, beer in hand, talked to another Adonis, dear reader I felt the desire.

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My Blind Mind

Posted on by under 2020, February 2020 - Desire

“Can you picture her face?” My words tumbled out of my mouth as soon as my sister picked up the phone.

“Huh? Whose face?” Evelyn replied.

“Mum’s,” I said.

At sixty years old, I had just learned that most people possessed a superpower. They could visualise objects, places, events and people in their “mind’s eye”. I could not. Suddenly the darkness of my mind seemed blinding. What’s more, I felt the loss of my mother more acutely than ever.

Our mother had died six months earlier, after a long battle with cancer. Evelyn and I had nursed her until the end. Now there was a gaping hole in my life. It was Larry, my husband, who had suggested giving meditation a go.

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The Letter

Posted on by under 2020, Jan 2020 - New Year Resolutions

Jane almost skipped out of the clinic.  She had been told by her consultant that she was free of cancer.  Striding down the road, she passed the travel agents with its tempting array of holidays.  Telling herself that she could do this on her own, she went into the shop and bought a train ticket to Athens and a ferry ticket to the incredibly small island of Halki.

A month before the all-clear, Jane received a letter from Stella who now lived on Halkii.  Jane had opened the letter with shaking hands and felt slightly sick.  Stella and Jane were the best of friends in the early 80s but in 1987 they had a row to end all rows, on a cliff top of all places!  Jane told Stella she did not want to see her and Stella cut all contact.

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From Resolven I Am

Posted on by under 2020, Jan 2020 - New Year Resolutions

I had to move my bag to make room for him. It wasn’t as if the bus was even full. It being January 5th, I gave him a sardonic, “Happy New Year!”

“You a Swansea boy?”

“Pontypool,” I said.

“The Pontypool Front Row! Remember them?”

“Bobby Windsor, Charlie Faulkner, Graham Price,” I said.

“More of a Neath boy, me. From Resolven I am … you’d think I’d be one for making New Year’s resolutions, wouldn’t you? It’s in the name.”

I let the chug of the bus answer.

“The number of times I have given up fags and booze … Eventually, the penny drops, don’t it. No point making yourself miserable.”

I could smell the alcohol on his breath, just past mid-day.

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A Resolution to be true to yourself

Posted on by under 2020, Jan 2020 - New Year Resolutions

Orlando’s Café was a dreary downmarket affair, hardly Mr Barings’ idea of a meeting spot.

Pimply youths lazed idly behind the counter, a toothless black woman drowned in a million shopping bags and a blonde floozy hunched over her cup of coffee whilst her boy, one irritating snot nosed tyke waddled from aisle to aisle thumping anything with his fists.

Worst, a lovey-dovey couple, shared a Sunday with a single spoon, breaking off from time to time for a quick peck on the lips or an ear splittingly giggle which made Barings long for a shotgun.

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RESOLUTIONS

Posted on by under 2020, Jan 2020 - New Year Resolutions

In their 23 years of cohabitation, Mel and Ron had reached achieved an efficient level of consensus. Holiday, theatre and cinema choices had all passed without rancour. Co-operation in the upbringing of son Ben was effective (although Ben was unlikely to return to the family home once his college days had expired).

They had reached deep agreement over the marking of high days and holidays. Birthdays were briefly acknowledged, Christmas was not much different from other days in the way of festive food. New Year resolutions were beneath contempt – that is, until quite recently.

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Backwards Jak’s resolution

Posted on by under 2020, Jan 2020 - New Year Resolutions

The Aurora, a Danish research vessel, had been sailing for over five years when it hove-to West of Swansea Free Port. Kaj Lydafspiller stood on the bridge looking at the structure in the distance through his binoculars.

Only a few times since fortune had favoured him with a right place, right time confluence after the “Big Splosh” had he found habitation. Mostly they were primitive, hostile or both, until now.

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But

Posted on by under 2019, November

She had dreamt of winning the really big fortune
And now she had finally done so she had also won
The lottery and she had also finally learnt about politics
And got to marry her sweetheart but it was not how
She imagined it would be or feel. She was living the dream
it was not all it cracked up to be. She had thought it
Would be living the dream it was living the dream but not
living it at all it, it was not like living at all.

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