I’m standing on the corner of East 125th and Lexington, just as I did all those years ago. It’s still a shithole. There are too many people, streaming ant-like from the Metro, where the 4, 5 and 6 lines rumble in from the Upper East Side of Manhattan. There’s no glamour here, just the press of humanity in its pointless pursuit of gratification. Each lump of flesh dotted on the broken pavements scurrying to unknown nirvanas, what’s left of their minds calculating, planning, seeking – all hidden behind frozen masks of hate. They don’t like what they are. They don’t like what they do, or say, or the music they listen to, or the food they eat, or the beer they drink. It’s all senseless.
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Be Careful What You Wish For
They say curiosity killed the cat, well my curiosity is well and truly dead. Here I am standing in a multi storey car park looking at a patch of wall with an orange stain on. The whole place stinks of human waste, petrol fumes and damp .What brought me here you may well ask.
Having lived a comfortable life with my grandparents, I quickly learned not to ask about my real parents. All they ever said that was they were dead to them. Years passed and, as with all things, the grandparents passed away. Now I was the owner of the house and with sufficient money to keep me in comfort, I set about making the place my own.
Continue readingLast Contact
Pilot Gamma-Tau 453 personal log: birth offset date 4067, relative time +220637.1.
Security code: <redacted>
The Navy’s always had a weird sense of humour, at least that’s what I’ve been told, even going back to the days of seafaring vessels in the Sol system. Lots of in-jokes lost to history, obtuse terminology, and language designed to exclude civilians and make us feel like part of a family, even as we sacrifice our personal humanity for the greater good.
Continue readingBack from the war
I feel the air in the room change suddenly, like the slightest breath of a breeze on a summer’s day. The candle flames flicker briefly, almost imperceptibly.
He’s here. Soft, silent, catlike, he crosses the floor, and I pretend to ignore him, pretend he’s not there. After all, I’m not expecting anyone today, least of all him, who I sent off to The Great War many months ago.
He’d promised to come back, in that way that young soldiers often do, filling the hearts of those they leave behind with love and hope. Hope that, sadly, is all too often dashed on the rocks with a letter from whichever Government minister it is these days who’s happy to send others out to die, whilst he sits in restaurants with carefully curated menus spending public funds.
Continue readingEavesdropping
As a writer yourself, you will know that lots of writers have given accounts of their craft. This doesn’t tend to progress much beyond the foothills of rocket science. They shut themselves in rooms without distraction, they stick to strict schedules and they eavesdrop on unwitting people. As someone slightly lacking in discipline for the first couple of points of writerly consensus, I embraced, for a while, the eavesdropping advice. And I have to say, this doesn’t always end well.
Like other writers wishing to capture ideas and observations, I too carry a notebook and pen everywhere I go. Get a small notebook – not so small you can’t fit much on one page – in an unobtrusive shade of beige, plus two biros. When I started out, I bought a pack of bright pink notebooks with ‘Britney is fab’ – reduced in Lidl – and a pencil with a pink feather on top to match. This may have seemed lacking in seriousness, and so many people commented on the pencil that it kind of blew my cover. Plus I didn’t have a sharpener. So beige and biros is the way to go, I think.
Continue readingChance
Yet another interview, let’s hope I get the job this time. I think this is the eighth or ninth job I’ve gone for. OK, I know I wasn’t qualified for some like the nanny’s job, but they could have given me a chance.
Why do they always keep you waiting? Sometimes I think they do it on purpose just to make you nervous, but today I’ve taken one of my mother’s diazepam, so I’m not fazed. The other two waiting look very la-di-da but a little nervous. One keeps dashing back and forth to the loo, while the other one is twisting her hands. You’d think she was on her way to the gallows. I think they have realised that I’m the obvious choice.
Continue readingA Rush Through Time
Sitting at his desk Father Time, opening his journal, gave vent to his frustration. Why, oh why, couldn’t people be happy with their lives? Time after time they try to hold back time, or pelt through, as in a race against it.
Mothers wanting their babies to arrive quickly; at months old they wanted them to be walking and talking, and to know what ails them at three in the morning. And once in school wanting them to little again, holding back the natural rhythm of time.
Continue readingThe Nexterday Pot Affair etm.
Inspector Camden Ironbell glared through the taxi window. He sighed and stroked his long beard. It would have been quicker to walk, he thought. He turned to his sergeant, who had her head stuck in a magazine.
“What are you reading, Lightwarble?”
Umros Lightwarble held up the magazine so he could see the cover. “Scientific Gnomus.”
“I see.” He raised an eyebrow. In his opinion, young Gnomes spent far too much time on human science and not enough on old-fashioned magic. “And WHAT is the article about?”
Continue readingThings aren’t what they seem
The Austerik Muminsim are an ancient race, who emerged from the quark aggregation taking place just millionths of a second after the big bang, so they aren’t exactly matter, but they really DO matter.
A lot.
They allowed nuclei to form, which also permitted everything else to happen, like stars and galaxies forming. So, it was a surprise when I was asked to meet them.
How do you “meet” an entity with no physical dimensions existing simultaneously in all places and times?
I got an invitation.
Continue readingAlmost
Billy Thomas and the boys met at the edge of the village. Maldwyn, the farmer, had promised them sixpence each if they cleared a field of potatoes. Armed with sandwiches and bottles of water they wandered up to the field. Maldwyn showed them how to do the job.
Toiling away, they split the field into sections and a competition started. Billy really wanted to win, so he was tugging each plant and throwing his catch into the wooden crate. As the day wore on, they were all tiring; time for a break. Laying against the wall petty rivalry and squabbling broke out, each convinced they would win.
Continue readingStopping the Santa Invasion
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.
Continue readingI Spy
Billy Thomas and gang set out their new mission – their eyes lit up – to catch a spy. Now that was exciting. Billy had twice seen the foreign man who had moved into a house on the edge of the village passing a rolled-up newspaper to a shifty little man. Once he’d seen the shifty man hand him money
A rota was set up. Huw Parry would watch in the morning as his parents went to work early. Billy would watch after school till teatime. Gwyn Griffiths would then take over, as his parents went to the club most nights and his brother let him go where he wanted. Huw Parry had an army uniform they could share to hide in the woods. Gwyn Griffiths borrowed his da’s binoculars to keep watch.
Continue readingThe Letter
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.
Continue readingChristmas in Wales
By late September, the cement in the foundations of the Christmas plans was setting nicely and the scaffolding was under construction for our two families. Shared festive traditions had evolved through their years of friendship. Each purchased a tree bauble for the other during their holidays and each had amassed a collection of these items which came to include German figures capable of appearing to puff smoke, and smoked glass globes with holiday place names. Food was always exquisite and achieved courtesy of the Marks and Spencer pre order and pick up service.
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