Short Story

Fiction: Apartment 3386

I seem to have always lived here. Apartment 3385, Sunview, just off Gosling and Forth in the depths of the Big Bad city. She lives in Apartment 3386. She moved in three months ago and she has driven me to distraction ever since. She has long dark hair and a face that made me, even with my atheist leanings, want to believe there was a God. From afar I gazed into her eyes, I think they are light blue.

In the city guys like me do not approach girls like her. Mace stings. I do however, see her twice everyday and at night in my dreams. She’s a good girl, the pushers come calling to the block at least twice a day, dealing their pills and potions. I ain’t never seen them stop at her door. Me, I ain’t perfect. I let those bastards in long ago, now I just take whatever they offer.

Usually my highs are very high, and the lows, well let’s just say if I trusted the light fitting not to come away from the mould marked ceiling I wouldn’t be around. That’s changed since she appeared. I see her, when I go to get my mail in the mornings. Always a vivid vision, her smile lights up the hallway and wakes me up much more effectively than anything the pushers offer. For those few brief seconds in the hall I can marvel at her figure, pert perfection flowing effortlessly into curves that would make a Coke bottle jealous.

I don’t know her name. Of course I checked her mailbox, but the name plate is blank. The way she moves it should be something regal although this place is about as far from a palace as it’s possible to get. Screams often echo through the interconnecting passageways. No-one calls the cops, head down, keep quiet.

Quiet and still until the pushers come.

When the deal has been done, I see her again. She passes my door and casts a beautiful silhouette that is the only part of her that has entered my apartment. I have nearly called out to her, but I fear I’ll scare her away. The pushers have done their work and I am far from my best. They said she’s not good for me. Those white coated bastards said they would make her disappear.

I reached out. I tried to warn her. But soon she was gone.

I would have cried. Had I not been “medicated” as they called it. I am screaming inside.

I seem to have always lived here. Apartment 3385, Sunview Institution just off Gosling and Forth in the depths of the Big Bad city.

Castle Village 120 Cabrini Boulevard building from west

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(WMB4X) Fiction: Kali

The steam filled the room bringing with it more than just a hint of lavender. The room was illuminated by five or maybe six faltering candles, gasping for air and suffering from a shortage of wax. The sound of dripping water echoed around, bouncing off all four walls. As I walked deeper into the steam I stumbled and found myself hurtling head first towards a familiar face beneath the surface of some bubbly water. I reached out, just stopping myself in-time.

The curvy body attached to that face jumped, as the face came up for air. The face and indeed the body, because they were a package really, belonged to my wife of ten years, Kali.

“Jesus Christ Tim.” she said. “Can’t a girl have a bath in peace. I thought you were out, could have given me a heart attack.”
“Sorry.” I said. “Just got back in, very cold out. Unlike here, blimey it’s like the Amazon jungle.”

As my eyes grew more accustomed to the flickering candle light I could see that Kali had put the best part of a bottle of creme bubble bath into the water, the bubbles were annoyingly placed in PG13 movie positions, so I couldn’t see any ‘good bits’. After ten years of marriage I am happily surprised that misplaced bubbles can still disappoint me.
“So then,” Kali said. “Oh great ruiner of baths. What is so important that you couldn’t wait twenty minutes to tell me.”
“Well.” I began.
“Oh wait right there mister, if you want a crap you are just gonna have to wait. Stick a cork up there or something.” Kali smiled.
“No it’s not that. Not today anyway.”
“Pleased to hear it.” she said as she sat up in the bath. Pulling her legs up and cuddling them into her chest. “Go on.”
“Well.” I began again perching on the edge of the tub. “I popped out to get the list of stuff you asked for.”
“The list on the fridge?”
“Yep and well anyway.. there were police outside the Morrisons’ house. They took Jen away.
“Oh Well.” she shrugged. “I guess we’ll never get that baking dish back now will we.”
“Baking dish? I thought you two were mates.”
“Friends close, enemies closer. You really don’t know anything about women do you.”
She had me there. They had always mystified me, maybe thats what I loved so much.
“Hand me that towel will ya.” she continued. “The waters gone cold.”
I handed her a big fluffy towel from the rail and watched as she rose from the water and let the towel embrace her. Flicking her long red hair out from under it.
“God you are as bad as that Jason from next door.” she said, noticing me looking.
“Do you let him watch you bathe?” I smiled knowing that teenage Jason wouldn’t know where to look let alone what to do.
“Yes, there’s him, his Dad Mike, the Milkman and even Jen.” she smiled again. “Mind you if she’s going to prison now it’s showers she’ll be watching.”
I turned on the light as she blew out the candles and stepped over the edge of the bath. Beginning to rub herself dry she said. “So did you get all the things on that list?”
“Not quite.” I said, handing her another towel for her hair. “They didn’t have any of those tablets you wanted.”

The life seemed to drain from Kali’s face. I don’t know if it was the change in lighting but she seemed to age ten years in about ten seconds. She fumbled for the lid of the toilet, placed it down, sat and slumped back against the cistern.
“Whats wrong?” I asked surprised to see such a reaction, I mean the chemist was all out, I did look. Surely she must know that.
“What’s wrong?” she said solemnly. “You have known me for 13 years. In that time I have always got my own medication. I ask you to do it just once. Once in thirteen years Tim”
“It’s ok, surely. I’ll go back tomorrow and get them. It will be fine.”
“It won’t.” she had stopped drying herself and drips on her face one-by-one lost their fight with gravity falling onto the towel never to be seen again. “I took my last pill yesterday. Thats why I asked you to go for me today. If I don’t have a tablet soon, well.”
“Well what?” I asked. This was really strange now, I knew my wife took various pills and potions. I mean it’s not unusual these days. Creams for this, tablets for that, the bathroom cabinet chock full.
“Those tablets kept me under control.” she said.
“How long have you been feeling depressed?”
“Depressed?” she looked at me through quizzical green eyes.
“Thats the medication right? There’s no need to hide it, lots of people these days..”
“No.” she interrupted my babble. “I’m not depressed. In fact I wish I was, Citalopram is easier to swallow.” She smiled a half smile.
“What is it then?” I asked, my knowledge of medication all but exhausted.
“The tablets prevent me from changing.”
“Oh, early menopause?”
“For Petes sake, stop trying to be Dr House Tim. Next you’ll suggest Lupus.” She snapped.
I wouldn’t have, it was never Lupus.
“Listen to me.” She continued, now barely dripping. “It’s started already.”
She held up her hand. At first I thought it was wrinkled from being in the bath too long, but then as it moved closer I noticed it was redder than usual and what I thought were wrinkles had a scale like quality.
“Oh, so what lots of people have skin issues.” I said. Denying what my eyes had seen.
“It’s not that.” her voice deeper than usual. Face reddening by the second. “No time to explain, you must go. Go now.”
“I’m not leaving you Kali, surely I can help.”
By now my wife’s metamorphosis was well underway. Her towel had fallen away to reveal a lizard-like body complete with three toed feet with big thick red nails.
Her eyes told me to run.
My heart told me to stay.
So I did.

Bubble - കുമിള 06


Please visit the page of the Resident Weeble. He has marvellous medicine

(WMB4X) Fiction: A Mothers Love

For WMBB4X The Resident Weeble and I have done another writing challenge. The section in green was written by the Resident Weeble my challenge, finish what he started. Enjoy.


It wasn’t a visit from a police officer or an official letter that told her. It wasn’t a phone call or even a text. Jenny saw it, just like the rest of the population, on the news.

After 14 years, Jenny’s one time lover was being released from prison. This was no ordinary prison release, this was news worthy. After new evidence had come to  light it was concluded that Fredrick Millbury  was innocent of all charges against him.

Jenny looked at her husband eating his dinner as he watched the news story. In the past she’d had her doubts that he had known about her affair with Fred. Looking at him now, she at least knew for certain, he never knew it was the man now on the telly.  

The thumping noise of footsteps hurrying down the stairs made Jenny’s heart skip a beat. And as her teenaged son opened the living room door and announced he was going out, she saw his eyes flash with contempt and knew a yet another thing for certain. Fred was his father.

Jenny switched to autopilot when she said. “Don’t be back too late Son.” The face of the man from her past still playing on her mind. She needn’t have worried Jason had slammed the door shut on the “D” of ‘Don’t”

She felt the blood drain out her face as she slumped down on the sofa next to her husband.

He didn’t notice her ashen expression. He now had remote in hand flicking through the multitude of channels looking for something vaguely entertaining. Just like most nights he found nothing so settled back with the News. For him just like any other night, beer, dinner, TV before crawling up to bed to begin the whole thing again tomorrow.

Jenny wanted to talk to him, Now was the time, she needed to tell him. She almost felt the words queuing up on her tongue to escape. She opened he mouth to speak.
“Do you want a brew love?” she said. Surprised at her own lack of profundity.
“That’ll be great.” he replied only briefly taking his eyes off the TV screen. “Any of those biscuits left?”
“I dunno I’ll have a look.”

And with that and the short journey to the kitchen, Jenny’s confess all impetus was gone. Until she heard her husbands voice faintly over the noise of the boiling kettle.

“Fucking amazing these days how they can do that to someone for 14 years, then say oops made a mistake. Free to go.”
Jenny peered round the kitchen doorway “What you going on about Mike?”
“That chap on the news. Poor fucker, 14 years in clink and he didn’t even do it. Looks like a nice guy to me.”

This was too close to the bone for Jenny. The word queue on her tongue became a word stampede. “He was, I slept with him.” she heard herself saying.

“What? The guy on the telly?” Mike replied more than a little confused.
“Yes the guy on the telly.” said Jenny who had now stopped peering round the kitchen door and perched on the arm of the sofa.
“When? When you was a kid right?”
“No.” Jenny began to well up.
“When then?”
Jenny sobbed.
“When? C’mon darlin it ain’t that bad they said he was innocent. Don’t get upset.”
Mike placed a big arm around her shoulder.
Jenny pushed it away.
“Don’t you get it? I was with him for three years before he went inside.”
“Thats just after we got married…. Jesus Jen”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Said Jenny tears flooding down her face.

Mike slumped back in the chair with a quizzical look on his face. His head aswim, he sighed a deep sigh.
“Is that it?” Jenny said. “A sigh”
Mike remained silent. Looking into space.
“Mike for fucks sake. Say something.” Jenny pleaded.
“And just what do you want me to say.” He said softly. “You may as well be a stranger. I sure as shit don’t know you anymore.”
“Oh god no. Please don’t say that.” Jenny begged now literally on her knees in front of him.
“Why Jen? I thought you were happy.”
“I was. I am. I.. I.. Can’t explain.”
“That’s fine then. You break our marriage vows for reasons you can’t explain. Wow I’m glad you valued what we had so much.”
“Mike please.”
“Please what.” He snapped, more animated now. “Would you have even told me if this cunt wasn’t on the news. Was it like oh ‘loverboy in trouble. Better stay with hubby.'”
Jenny moved her hair from her face and struggled to her feet.
“It wasn’t like that. Not at all ”
“Hey look Lover boy is back on TV.” Mike said sarcastically pointing to the screen.
“Oh please turn it off.”
“No, I want to hear every last word.” He said holding a digit firmly down on the remote to increase the volume.

On the screen outside the high court, surrounded by a mob of photographers and reporters, some of whom had written headlines calling for him to be hung 14 years previously, Frederick Millbury stood and spoke.
“I have today been cleared of all charges.” Boomed Fred’s voice amplified by Jenny’s TV. “I hope today to be able to begin grieving for my dear Mother who’s killer is still on the loose.”
“Cunt lost his Mum.. boo fucking hoo” Mike interrupted.
“Mike. Such a terrible thing to say.” Jenny said weakly. She looked at the screen. At Fred. His hair seemed to be white, nicotine stained and receding. Instead of the thick steely grey she remembered. His face was also thinner than she recalled, his eyes were deep set and dark, in stark contrast to the grey hue of the surrounding skin.
“Although I am grateful for my freedom nothing can replace the last 14 years or the loss of of someone so dear to me.” Fred concluded.

A mass of flash bulbs and a barrage of indistinguishable questions followed as Fred and his legal team walked away. A policeman, top brass was now the cameras focal point.
“On behalf of the County Police, I would like to offer my apologies to Mr Millbury. New evidence recently became available exonerating him of all crimes. We continue to investigate all leads and hope to bring his Mothers killer to justice.”

Mike snapped the TV off.
“I’m going to bed.” he said. “I’ll get some things together tomorrow. Fuck knows what we’ll tell Jason.”
“Mike,” Jenny said. “There’s something else.”
Then there was a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it.” Mike said leaving Jenny alone. He returned less than a few seconds later. “Jen there is a Policeman here to see you.”


Please visit the Resident Weeble’s blog today to see my start for him. After all he’s the type of fella you would be proud to introduce to your mother.

(WMB4X) Fiction: Unicorn Droppings

“It’s the the third one this week.” said DC Shaw, looking rather green.

DC Shaw, a tall man in his mid thirties with a bald head which the light from the florescent tubes above him bounced off of, had just opened yet another envelope delivered to the Thames Valley West Police Station.

The envelope, just like those before it had contained a childs finger.

“Bout time we caught the bastard who did it then isn’t it.” DCI Murray replied. Taking a sip of his tea. “Have you given forensics a ring? So that they can do their magic.”

Shaw thought that ‘magic’ was a poor choice of words given the circumstance, but replied “Yes Guv. They’ll confirm in the next few hours but it looks to be from the same hand as the previous two.”

“So it’s from a 6 to 7 year old girl.” said Murray reading from his notes. “With distinct nail varnish, ‘Unicorn Droppings style’ it says here.”

“Yes that’s correct.”
“Does the envelope give us anything to go on this time around?” asked Murray.
“No. Printed label, plain brown jiffy bag. Just as before”
“Why send it here though?”
“Maybe the guy feels bad, wants to get caught.”

The two men sat in silence pondering this as yet leadless case in DCI Murrays office. The hum of the air conditioner and the muffled voices of those the other side of the door were the only things to be heard. Until Shaw’s mobile phone rang. It was switched to silent but the vibration against the table made a noise that startled both men.

Shaw grabbed it with a bear like hand and clicked the lock button twice to send the call to voice mail. “Sorry about that.” he said. The phone then vibrated again and flashed up a message displaying ’27 voicemails’ on it’s large screen.

“27 voicemails Shaw.” said Murray, leaning back in his chair. “Someone wants to get hold of you.”

“I think it’s probably Katie Gov.”
“Want you back does she?”
“What do you think?”

Murray knew all about Shaws recent break up. Katie had chosen to do it in the Investigation room in front of the team and accompanied by Shaws daughter Jessica. Katie went mad, throwing things at Shaw accusing him of having affairs with all four of the female officers on the team. She would have spent a few hours in the cells to calm down, had Shaw himself not stepped in and promised to take her home.

Murray felt sorry for Jessica.

“How is Jess?” He asked. “Do you see her much?”
“She’s fine. Saw her this weekend. Before I dropped her at camp” Shaw gazed off into middle distance.
“Brownies?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me know if you hear anything from forensics.”
“Will do Guv.”

The phone on Shaws messy desk sprung into life three hours after he had left Murrays office.
“DC Shaw, Thames Valley CID.”
“Steven. It’s Lisa, from Forensics. How you doing?”
“Not bad thanks,” Shaw replied lying. “Got anything for me on that finger?”
“Yep, as expected it was from the same poor little girl.”

Shaw noted this down after scrabbling around to find a working pen.

“Anything on the envelope?”
“No. Nothing we can use anyway. The whole thing has been wiped.The finger itself was packed meticulously. Almost making sure the finger didn’t get damaged. Bit of a waste if you ask me, I mean with it being chopped off..”

“Nothing of note.” Shaw interrupted. Not caring for Lisa’s opinion.
“No aside from confirming that this is from the same hand of the same girl with the same nail varnish.”
“OK. Thanks.” Shaw said. Placing the phone down and placing his bald head in his sizeable hands. Letting out a deep sigh, he rose from his chair and walked to DCI Murrays door and knocked.
“Come.” said Murray.
“Guv that was forensics.”
“Yes. Anything?”
“‘fraid not. The finger was from the same girl though.”
“Not much to go on then is there.”
“No guv.”
“Well I think the best you can do is go and get some rest. As my old governor used to say to me. ‘A tired mind never solved any crime’”

Shaw took the night bus home. He was still sharing a car with Katie and he’d dropped it off Monday morning. It was raining but he didn’t really mind as the bus stopped right outside his house. He fumbled for his keys that were caught in the lining of his jacket.

He opened the door to his silent house.

Silence where there once was laughter. Jess’s paintings still adorned the walls, bags of clothing Katie’s and Jess’ still lay strewn in the hallway. It had been less than two weeks since Shaw had suffered the humiliation of the “Investigation Room” He wondered How could she break up with him like that, so publicly. She had no right. Bitch was wrong anyway. In front of Jess too. Poor Jess.

Shaw went to pour himself a drink. There were no clean glasses. So he took a swig from the bottle.

Katie would learn that she shouldn’t have crossed him, Shaw thought.

He remembered the last conversation he had with Jess. She was packing her bags to go to brownies. She had told him about the big trip her and her mother were going on when she got back from camp. She said they were going on a plane, to live far far away to with Uncle Barry in “Down Under” and search for Unicorns just like the ones who made the nail varnish Uncle Barry had given her.

She said. “Do you like my nails Daddy?”

Bleeding finger


This piece was a proud part of the Absolute Write Blog Chain for November, where the theme was Unicorn Droppings. The other participants are below.

shtar’sgate – http://chickenscratchbc.blogspot.ca/ (link to post)
orion_mk3 – http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com (link to post)
sweetwheat – http://gomezkarla.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
skunkmelons – http://www.jenniferponce.com/skunkblog (link to post)
BBBurke – http://www.awritersprogression.com/ (link to post)

If thats not enough, please visit the Resident Weeble, he said he’d chop of my fingers if you didn’t.

Fiction: Life Brought to You by… (Part 2)

Part one here.

“Oh will you relax.” He said releasing her arm. “Please take a seat.”
“Relax. Relax he says. Doctor Death takes you into a locked room and he wants you to relax”

Dr Fielding laughed.

“I’m sorry about the room and the fact I had to lead you here.” He said. “But you can’t talk about the Sponsors out there. They will hear you.”
“So, I don’t care. It is the law to have a brand but I’m not in bed with them like you are.” Danielle said slouching down on a brown leather sofa that appeared far too big for what was essentially a box room.
“I told you. I’m not like them.” The doctor replied picking up a dog eared book from the desk in the corner of the room and tossing it to Danielle. “Take a look at this.”
“What’s this?” Danielle said rubbing her fingers over it in a swiping motion. “It won’t unlock.”
“Open it. It’s a book. It’s from Earth BF”
“Oooh something from Before Franchise. Contraband!” She said now holding it like it was hot potato. “Maybe you aren’t the corporate shill I thought.”
“See I told you.” The doctor said perching on the sofa next to her. “Open it.”

Danielle opened up the book and flicked through the pages. She began to read aloud.

“Earth Incorporated: The Price of the Sponsors by Jodie Fielding.” She stopped reading. “Any relation?”
“My great great grandmother. They killed her.”
“I’m sorry. Did she not have a scenario.”
“No, no-one did back when the Sponsors took over. They lived, freely. Properly, it’s all in the book. They wrote what they wanted back then, before the sponsors took control. They were gentle at first, rewarding those that complied and reflected their will in exchange for wealth or fame. Then they realised they could buy a person outright.”
“And people thought that was OK?”
“Not everyone, that’s why one Jodie Fielding wrote the book.” Said the doctor, stretching. “But most people went with it. Easy money and quick too. Lots didn’t even read the terms of the contract. There is a whole chapter in there about Mr Nathan Coca-Cola. He lived very well in the beginning for five years he sold more Coke than anyone before, just by being a poster child. Then he went to the beach.”
“Sponsored Sand Grains?”
“No plain sand, Mr Coca-Cola died because he was thirsty.”
“That’s some extreme thirst there.” Danielle smirked.
“He got hot, and went to buy a drink. They had run out of Coke. He drunk a Pepsi.”
“Pepsi?”
“Another brand of Cola. There was more than just one back then. There is a picture of it somewhere.” explained the Doctor taking the book. “See there.”
“Wow.”
“The Coca-Cola corporation looked through his personal security recording. They killed him. Other sponsors owned the courts by then so they were acquitted. That started the great backlash. Millions of people tried to get out of their contracts.”
“What happened to them?” Danielle asked captivated by the real history she was learning. It differed greatly from the Sponsors story of events.
“They were killed, breach of contract.” Fielding said solemnly. “Secretly of course”
“Millions of people killed and no-one notices? What how on Earth?”

Fielding took a deep breath.

“This is where the scenarios were first developed. To protect the people.”
“Protect them! I was right. You are as bad as all the rest. You hid the mass murder of half the population.”
“I didn’t. The company did. They had no choice, they had to produce scenarios otherwise the remaining people on this planet would have rebelled against the Sponsors. They would have wiped out the entire population. After this company saved the majority of Demographic the sponsors saw how valuable a scenario could be. After all if everyone was dead there would be no-one to sell to.”
“I see” Danielle said. “Money is king.”
“It’s been that way for a long time now. Anyway most people want their own scenarios now. Thats why you came to me today.”
“Only because of this damn voucher. ‘Choose now or have a scenario chosen for you.’ It says. I thought I was taking control.”
“Have you read your contract? I don’t think there is much control for anyone. So much as a word off ‘Brand” and you are in trouble”

They sat silently for a moment. Danielle ran the contents of the book through her head. The rumours of the sponsors all proven to be true. Danielle broke the silence.
“They can still kill the people who breech contract. With no-one knowing.”

“Yes not even the people involved. Until the simulation finishes, then there is nothing.”

Nothing is nothing

Fiction: Life, Brought to You by…. (Part 1)

The purple text below was a start written by my friend Richard. I finished the story best I could! I split it into two parts.  I hope you like.

Danielle was too warm to sleep. She tossed and turned in bed but slumber stayed away. But perhaps that was a mercy. The horror film Ant had put in the DVD player after their candle-lit dinner would have given her nightmares anyway. She never liked horror films. But it had been Ant’s turn to choose and Danielle figured he didn’t care much for her fluffy rom-coms either. But that was what relationships were about – compromise.

Suddenly Danielle heard a noise. Someone was breaking in the front door. Danielle sat up and listened. Heavy footsteps were thudding up the stairs getting louder and nearer. Danielle searched for her phone to call Ant or the police, then remembered she’d left it downstairs. She could hear heavy breathing now outside her bedroom door. The handle rattled as whoever was outside attempted to open the locked door. Danielle huddled in a corner of the bed against the wall and pulled the covers up in front of her – as if they would be any protection.
There was a sound of splintering wood and an axe-head appeared through the door. It disappeared and struck the door again, making a large hole. An arm pushed through the hole and unlocked the  door from the inside.

The door swung open and a masked man stood in the doorway.
Danielle screamed.

The axe fell. Danielle fell silent.

“And that is scenario 56.” said an exasperated Dr Fielding switching off the simulation screen. “Bit on the dramatic side but if you want to make a statement. There is nothing like the good old boyfriend with the axe to the head scene. Classic”
“Hmm” Danielle pondered.
“This also comes with the added back story that Ant has been copping off with your best friend.. erm.. Janet..”
“Janine.” Danielle corrected.
“Yes sorry, Janine. He offs you to run off to Fiji with a sheep and cow to breed horses.”
“With a sheep and a cow?”
“Yes, “ said the doctor checking his notes. “That’s what it says here.”
“Do you have anything else?”

Dr Fielding had shown Danielle 17 death scenarios now, including classics such as “Falling Ladder” and “Accident that wasn’t your fault” he was a trifle frustrated that nothing she had seen thus far fitted the bill. This was the trouble with allowing the under 30’s use the services of “Your Way Out Ltd” the end was usually so far away that the initial consultancy, often ended up a pointless drawn out affair. The client often returning many years later to request a standard “heart attack” rather than the “Bungee cord sex fall” they had requested 50 years previously. Dr Fielding swiped his way through the electronic catalogue.

“Here is scenario 27.” He replied. Pulling it across to the large screen that filled one end of an otherwise bland and clinical white room.

The screen showed a grey haired Danielle laying down on a white bed, surrounded by birthday cards and balloons. Some of the cards displayed the figure 1000. Next to Danielle there was a hologramic message casting light from the ground. It depicted the High Sponsor Romana.
“Congratulations on reaching your one thousandth life cycle.” She said. “In these troubled times there are few that make it this far. You are indeed a remarkable demograph.”
The message disappeared. The scenario screen faded to black.

“What was that?” said Danielle peering quizzically at the black screen.
“That was just called ‘Telegram’” replied Dr Fielding.
“Yeah but you didn’t see me.. well die.”
“That’s from our ‘Peaceful’ range. It’s very popular.
“Hmm.”
“Look you are very young. Why don’t you come back, we are developing new scenarios all the time to suit all price ranges.”
“No,” Danielle said with a sigh. “I need to sort it out now. I have a voucher from my Brand Manager”
Fieldings irritated demeanour melted somewhat at this news.
“Oh I see. Then you must take advantage of that offer. I’m sure we’ll find you something.”
“Seems a strange gift if you ask me, I mean I’m 20 years old. Not planning on kicking the bucket anytime soon.” Danielle said with half a smile, that quickly disappeared.
“Yes such is this life. No one knows when our time is up.”
“Thats not what I heard. I heard they know.” Danielle said rising from her chair and pacing round the room. “They know very well they tell us what we can and can’t do, how we live when we die. It’s not fair, it makes me mad.”
“Please, sit down. This is not the time or the place for madness. Your brand manager has been generous to you. Lets find you that scenario.”
“C’mon now doctor. You are a person. You must have heard the rumours.” replied Dannielle pacing. “But aha, you won’t say what you really think. You make money out of it. No biting the hand that feeds you eh.”
“Well yes but..”
“Don’t you ‘but’ me.” Danielle now raging “They made my Mother move away when I was 5. Never seen her since. No-one knows where she is. And you. You sit there and make a tidy packet on hiding the truth. The truth of life here on Earth672. You are worse than the Sponsors.”

Dr Fielding rose to his feet and walked over slowly to the snarling Danielle. He moved his face close to hers and said slowly and clearly “Don’t you ever compare me to them. Ever. You hear me. You come with me.”

Dr Fielding swiped a finger over the catalogue. The scenario screen scrolled up to reveal a black door, a stark contrast to it’s white surroundings. Next to the door was a retina scanner unit. Dr Fielding led Danielle firmly by the arm towards the door. He let the machine scan his eye and the door swung open.
“What are you doing?” Danielle said trying to hide her fear. A fear that was more real than in any of the scenarios the Doctor had shown her.
“I am going to show you why you shouldn’t compare me to the Sponsors” he said bundling her through the door. Which slammed shut behind them.
“Oh please no, please don’t hurt me.”

Part 2

Time square

Fiction: The Familiar Mask

It’s hot, un-comfortably so. The dizziness of hours ago has turned rapidly into headache which makes it feel as though someone has ripped off my forehead. The environment is familiar but all so new at the same time. Disorientating.

The light can only be described as uneven, shining un-naturally brightly in some areas but failing to light others. It has the strange offshoot of a person not being able to see the hand one has used to shield your eyes from the light.

I’m surrounded by others, but they are a million miles away from me. Simple conversations and concepts seem to be beyond these life forms. Yet they still manage to antagonise me in their very being. Maybe I’ve been here too long. After a while time blends so it is difficult to ascertain how long even the simplest task has taken.

I can barely remember the time before. The time when I arrived at this place, adrenaline flowing in line with a new challenge. Now I am battle weary, confidence shot. Alone in the crowd. The other inhabitants of this place continue to press the correct buttons in the correct order in the hope that the all powerful will notice and release their torment.

Fools.

Or is it more fool me. I should know better, I should escape this territory and move on. I am trapped. I am trapped by a foe far more deadly and hideous than you dear reader can ever imagine. His onslaught is relentless and varied. He forces me to return to this place again and again. Leading me to believe that each time will be better than the time before. He laughs at me from behind a familiar mask, benefiting from my toil.

My fleeting freedom is soon here. The hope, the fresh air. The empowering solitude to attempt forget the horrors and the heat of now. It is futile. I know I will return once again here, the Office tomorrow. My familiar mask in place.

Bullarätze 001

Fiction: (April) Spring, Summer and Wednesdays

This is part of Absolute Write Blog Chain for April. The theme this month is “April Fool”. I got such great feedback last time I fear this is gonna be that “difficult second album.”

Sit back and try to enjoy… (Then visit the other blog chain gangers)


“April fool” she shouted.

And just like that April’s world caved in.

Today was her birthday, she was 19. Earlier her best friend Robert had given her a badge which announced “Birthday Girl” to the world. He pinned it upon her t-shirt. Being careful not to pierce her ivory skin. He smiled, admiring his own dexterity. She’d known him since she was five years old. Since he’d fallen off the jungle gym into her path. The shock of the fall and the shooting pain running through his grazed knees had caused his eyes to well up with tears.

April’s eyes now reflected that memory.

She thought of long hot summers, where there was no school. She and Robert would climb trees together despite being told by her mother not to. They made lemonade on the the warmest day of the year. They laughed and ran in the fields, tripping each other and falling down in the soft grass. Robert had made her promise to be friends for life.

April now wondered what she’d do with her life. As she sat in dark isolation.

She thought of how dark it had been three years ago, when she met her first proper boyfriend Mark. She had gone to the local store and the sky threw down a heavy spring shower. Mark was sheltering under a nearby tree. He called out to her. They stayed under that tree long after the rain had stopped. Talking and laughing. April had felt so close to him. She kissed him on the cheek and bid him goodnight. The next day she excitedly told Robert all about the spring showers. He had called Mark a “Jerk.” and stormed off.

From where April was in the dark she could her distant voices. Were they looking for her, or just fooling around in the spirit of the day.

Robert had been the first to offer words of comfort when she had learned that Mark had been cheating on her. He’d been sleeping with an older woman every Wednesday afternoon for the best part of 6 months. Not once did Robert say “I told you so.” He was a true friend. She had rested her head on his shoulder.

She now rested her head in her hands. Tears streaming down, splashing off of the birthday girl badge. Robert had always such great care of her. April didn’t know why she pushed him. Yelling “April Fool!” It wasn’t even an April fools joke, it was a push.

A little push like when they were kids. He’d stumble, they’d laugh. April fool. A push, a joke.

“April fool” the words spun round and round in her head.

She saw Robert fall backwards into the road. His head hit the ground.

April fool.

The driver of the car slammed on the brakes. Robert disappeared under the screeching tyres.

April fool ran. Ran to isolation, to let the darkness forgive her.

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If you liked that please feel free to read my other fictional pieces here. They serve only to make the other bloggers on this chain look fantastic by comparison. Take a look…

orion_mk3 – http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com (link to post) 
Ralph Pines – http://ralfast.wordpress.com (link to post)
Angyl78 – http://jelyzabeth.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
Araenvo – http://www.simonpclark.com/ (link to post)
MsLaylaCakes – http://www.taraquan.com/ (link to post)
Lady Cat – http://randomwriterlythoughts.blogspot.ca/ (link to post)
LanaK – http://lanaketrick.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
Lyra Jean – http://beyondtourism.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
Sudo_One – https://sudoone.wordpress.com/ Me!
articshark – http://www.drslaten.com/blog (link to post)

Fiction: What The Leprechaun Said..

As I like a challenge. I decided to take part in the Absolute Write March 2013 Blog Chain. Being as it’s March and nearly St Paddy’s day the prompt is “What the Leprechaun Said..” Anything St Patricks related, thats how I read it anyway. As always I just hope it’s not shit. Please check out the work of the other members of this months chain. I will update the links to the articles when they are all available. This is the first AW thing I’ve done, so I hope I got the point of it.


Patrick had always been a good guy for as long as I could remember. At school, he was always the one who had his homework done early, his uniform clean and pressed. We didn’t socialise in the same circles, Patrick was a square. But we lived in the same small village so we were aware of each other. People gossip y’know.

Patrick was a regular in attendance at the local church. I didn’t go, well I was there in the car park in the early days to stand around with my friends and smoke. Oh Jesus I was such a wannabe gangster.

We were chalk and cheese, when I was trying out my first joint, Patrick was helping out at the homeless shelter. Whilst I was trying to cop off with Lindsay and her sister Lorna behind the local pub, Patrick was practicing his wedding vows. Patrick married Maria, a girl from Church at when they were both just 16.

She was a pretty girl. Lorna on the other hand was a skank. She suited my persona, I went out of my way to be bad. Swearing, Spitting, joyriding. I got drunk every weekend from the ages of 15 to 22. Pissed and pissed off at the world. Hey, everyone is at that age. Everyone aside from Patrick. Why can’t you be more like Patrick? People said that a lot. The guy was a saint.

Those same people were surprised when I got my job. I was the talk of the village. Mum was proud, finally. Patrick himself was pleased so I heard.

In a sleepy village like ours nothing happens. I’d held down my job for years even got a few promotions. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until the call at 2:30am. I got up having dressed rather sleepily, my buttons on my shirt were out of line. Just like school days. I jumped into the car, although it was hardly worth it for a journey so short. Patrick and Maria didn’t live far from me and that was where I’d been summoned.

On my arrival at the house I met my boss. He’d been there for half an hour already and was now sat perched on Patrick’s doorstep.

“Real mess in there.” he said. “Blood everywhere. Screaming heard two hours ago by the neighbour. Surprised you didn’t hear anything, being so close and all.”
“Sound sleeper Boss” I said as I pushed open the door. Keeping it light to hide my surprise. Surely there was some mistake, surely my DCI was wrong.

He wasn’t.

Blood coated every surface in the living room of Patrick and Maria. The police photographers were taking pictures, mostly of Maria’s dismembered torso which sat centre stage in the room. To the left of it was her head, and on a sofa tossed idly like it was a weekly periodical was a blood soaked chainsaw. I felt sick.

Patrick rocked involuntarily, a crazed look on his face, in the far corner of the room. His hands cuffed behind his back.

“Why did you do it?” I asked him.
“Well officer,” he replied quietly. “It was what the leprechaun said..”


Please check out the work of my fellow Blog Chain bloggers.

orion_mk3 – http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com (link to post) 
robeiae – http://thepondsofhappenstance.blogspot.com/ (link to post) 
writingismypassion – http://charityfaye.blogspot.com/ (link to post) 
Sudo_One – https://sudoone.wordpress.com/ ME!
randi.lee – http://emotionalnovel.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
pyrosama – http://matrix-hole.blogspot.com/ (link to post) 
katci13 – http://www.krystalsquared.net/ (link to post) 
MsLaylaCakes – http://taraquan.com/ (link to post) 
Angyl78 – http://jelyzabeth.wordpress.com/ (link to post) 
KitCat – http://twilightasylum.wordpress.com/ (link to post) 
Bloo – http://www.emergencyroomproductions.net/ (link to post) 
dclary – http://davidwclary.com (link to post) 
ConnieBDowell – http://bookechoes.com/ (link to post)
Lady Cat – http://carolsrandomness.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
Araenvo – http://www.simonpclark.com/ (link to post)
MichaelP – http://portablemagicblog.com/ (link to post)
Ralph Pines – http://ralfast.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
mdgreene50 – http://www.gettotheinside.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
dolores haze – http://dianedooley.wordpress.com/ (link to post)

(28DW) Fiction,The Billingham Challenge: Second Chance

The Resident Weeble, being as he is, a talented bastard managed to come second in a writing competition. You can read his entry that should have won here. In this competition crime writer Mark Billingham wrote a paragraph and entrants had to finish the story. So as I love a bit of a contest me, I suggested to the Weeble that we do a similar thing as part of 28DW. Except we cut Billingham out. I wrote a start for Weeble the excellent results of which is here and he wrote one for me. Here is my effort, the Weebles start is highlighted in Green


He looked around the windowless grey cylinder he’d been in for 50 years, although the time had passed instantaneously for Richard Pendleton. Hearing the release wheel turning on the other side of the time capsule, a wave of panic and regret came over him. He knew why he’d agreed to the experiment, but it didn’t make the possible outcomes any less terrifying.

“Richard Pendleton Mk 4” Pronounced a voice, from where Richard couldn’t quite make out. “Pendleton Mk 3 was killed this morning. You will be replacing him on the planet Earth. Please prepare to leave the cylinder for briefing. The chair on which Richard had been placed 50 years ago hissed gently as it slowly moved him forward into the centre of a white room.

After a few seconds a middle aged blonde woman in a lab coat appeared.

“Mk Four.” she said without a trace of accent. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m a little confused to be honest. What’s going on?”
“It’s perfectly natural Four. It’s just the effects of the the Cylinder. Do you remember?”
“I remember the experiment. But why are you calling me Four?”
“You are the forth chance.”
“Forth chance?” said Richard, growing more confused by the second. “There are only supposed to be two chances.”

The experiment was to run for 3000 years, as Richard recalled, slowly through his cylinder hazed mind. It was the brainchild of the boss, who after centuries of being, by his own admission “A bit of a dick” finally decided to give something back to the inhabitants of Earth. The Second Chance program was born. Near clones of a chosen “Alpha” were placed into Cylinder storage to be called upon when the Alpha died and they would be sent back to earth to give the Alpha a second chance.

“Well, you are a lucky boy.” the woman replied with a smile. “Someone up there obviously likes you.”
“Yes it would appear so.” Richard said. “So what happened to the others?”
“Hmm lets see,’ the woman replied as she brought up a screen with just the flick of her wrist. “OK well Alpha Pendleton as you might recall is being kept alive in a similar cylinder. He was the one who got selected. Then from him there sprang Mk Two. He was killed in a motor accident. Then Mk 3 was sanctioned. He died rather stupidly choking on a pretzel.”
“A pretzel? How does anyone choke on a pretzel.”
“I know, I said the same thing. We thought Mk Three was defective, turns out he was just stupid.”
“I don’t have much of an act to follow then.” Richard joked.
“Well no. But this is the last chance, so don’t mess it up.” she said as she folded the video screen away with another gesture of her hand. “I’m Hillary by the way. Three was wearing an hawaiian shirt and sweat pants when he choked, must have been a day off, you’ll find them behind the cylinder. I’ll leave you to get changed.” (more…)