30 March 08 - 19:29The Maiden Voyage of 'Calm Sea'
Published 'Braquemard' 1995
The harbour was choked with coloured streamers, as the Calm Sea ploughed into the universe’s wide horizons upon its maiden voyage. The crew’s shantying voices faded beyond the cheers of the bystanders on the wharf. Calm Sea’s blooming sails became a gorgeous white butterfly in the distance tasting a world of undulating nectar ... its only world, other than itself.
I was sad, however. On board was my true love who believed I was not hers. I’d tried to convince her, but to no avail. She was to take the cruise upon Calm Sea. Too good a chance to miss, she’d maintained. I was evidently not the husband destined for her by a version of God I couldn’t quite fathom. Nevertheless, she was MY true love, if nothing else ... and I doubted the seaworthiness of that rigger upon which she now plied the universe. The harbour partying was merely a distraction from bigger issues than any of those people trailing streamers could possibly imagine. ...
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20 March 08 - 13:21What's My Line
Published 'Dreams & Nightmares' 1994
Skipping games were to be very popular in the days before TV.
Straight skipping, cross skipping (and straight and crossed combined) were practised and perfected, forming huge beauteous cat’s-cradles above the cobbles. And the rhymes that accompanied such games could have filled a bumber hymnal.
One gang of skipping wastrels, who lived amid the dead ends off Change Street, were led by one Digory Smalls. The rest, of course, were girls, in hastily run-up frocks. The question why a boy like Digory should interest himself In such frivolities did not even arise. Everyone took it for granted. Even the grown-ups who often sat outside at the terraced walk-in parlour doorways nodded knowingly. They then pointed up to the TV aerials decking the chimneystacks like so much costume jewellery, as if such things were actually relevant and that they knew what the future held in store. ...
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10 March 08 - 20:55The Wife's Wake
Published 'Stuff' 1994
There were no leavings for Leslie. But when you are someone like Leslie, even the best end of the top layer has the look of scraps, the consistency of offal and the taste of waste. Not that Leslie was particularly fastidious – simply a sensitive soul with an even more sensitive palate. One day, Leslie’s wife returned from the dead. Not in all her gory glory, but decked in a gorgeous wedding-dress which she must have been given to wear in a place called Heaven. Her face was smiling. In fact, it could easily have been someone else’s face. “Leslie, why did you kill your dear young wife?” it asked before a pause. “Well, I wanted to ensure the tenderest meat for your funeral,” was Leslie’s well-considered answer, as he spitefully, if pointlessly, spat something through the apparition: a barbecued wad he’d been chewing since last week’s wake.
03 March 08 - 19:38THE DEMON FALTERING
Published 'Enter The Realm' 1994
The nursery curtains toyed with the cool draught.
"How do you cope?" asked one who was on the floor.
"The demon has to cope, not me," answered the other who rocked in her chair.
"The demon?"
"Yes, the demon. He takes the children under his wing and tells them that if they misbehave, he'll conjure HIMSELF up to make them behave."
The girl on the floor, the girl with the trip-switch questions made hardened cheeks with her tongue. The other replaced the smelling-salts phial inside her sloping blouse pocket.
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