Tag Archives: paul

Thérèse

Posted on by under 2024

In the dusk is a sea monster, bulky, black and rubbery, glistening in the remnants of the light. It is almost still, as if waiting for a prey.

            A fellow waves the crowd on board, taking the last of their money. At this the youngest of our crew, Paul, averts his eyes. It’s superstition: if he doesn’t look maybe this voyage might be uneventful.

            More ragged travellers arrive. The fellow squeezes them on, extra bucks for him and his criminal smuggling network. He doesn’t care if he’s endangering people. He gives one of those on board a GPS, saying in English, ‘north west’.

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THE BISHOP’S DEAD LOSS

Posted on by under 2023, August 2023 - Loss

The Bishop was shrouded in a sterile melancholia. No Paul, no Barnabus. The preoccupied silence intermittently splintered as believers, heads studiously bowed to their books, whispered ritualistic rejoinders to the calls to silence. Not like the pub book-reading club at all!

*****

My thoughts drifted back four, no five, months. The conversation flowed then with that lack of embarrassment of familiars who knew exactly where the boundaries of safe conversation lay.

            “Can’t bend… belly’s in the way.” The speaker, Betty, strained to retrieve a biscuit for Barnabus, a particularly yappy male Jack Russell, enthusiastic to the point of obvious sexual excitement whenever a woman entered the bar.  That was one reason I routinely assumed a seat in the snug opposite; in clear view but removed. The other was discomfort. The invite “Come and join us” was no longer repeated, – no doubt deterred by my repeated rebuttals. I swigged a mouthful of stout and continued my solitary reading. Chapter 5 “The Surprise Accident.”

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Your Friendly Neighbourhood GP

Posted on by under 2022, May 2022 - Hero

Mavis Potter reclined in her seat, her body visibly deflating.

‘That’s such a relief, Dr Parker. I was certain it was a brain tumour. Thank you for seeing me out of hours again. You really are a hero.’

            ‘Just doing my job. The migraine should subside soon, and the tablets will help. In future, remember that stress can be a trigger – that includes googling symptoms.’

            Dr Paul Parker’s smile reached the corners of his eyes, kindness radiating out of him. Mavis basked in it for a moment. A visit to the GP was as good as a holiday.

            She floated out of the surgery. ‘Thank you, Dr!’

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It Runs In The Family?

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

Since The Leak life had been a bit strange. The familiarity of domestic routines was a comfort. Practising mindfulness whilst washing-up at the kitchen window was amongst Norma’s favourites. There, as usual, was Robin the robin, twisting and bobbing on the garden wall, looking out for his breakfast. She and Paul had chosen the name long ago when they were still speaking to each other, or more correctly before the diagnosis, when she could speak.

Useless at multi-tasking.

At the movement, Norma’s thoughts refocussed. Looking-up from a particularly stubborn fried egg encrustation, Paul entered her vision window-left. He was wearing his usual gardening attire, the pink “onesie.” Face down, back arched, he was advancing worm-like through the petunias. She and Robin watched him reach the ninety degree obstacle of the house wall corner and stop. Robin opened his beak, uncoiled a forked tongue, flicked and caught the cat snoozing below, gulped, and flew off.

Too much! This has got to stop.

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