He bit into the pie.
It was exquisite. The pastry wasn't too soft or too hard. There wan't much jelly. The meat was unlike any other he'd tasted before. It was the perfect pie.
He wished he'd bought more of them.
That night he woke up at 4:30 with the worst stomach pain he'd ever experienced. It felt like he was being stabbed repeatedly. He had cold sweats and was burning up. The vomiting started soon after.
Diarrhoea came along next. He made it to the bathroom and passed out.
His cleaner arrived the following day and found him dead in a pool of his own shit, piss and chunder.
Tuesday 31 May 2016
Monday 30 May 2016
Taxi
"Been busy tonight, mate?"
The driver looked in his mirror at the man in the back. He was wearing an expensive suit and he'd picked him up at that fancy cocktail place in town. Clearly he had a good bit of money.
"Not too bad, steady away."
He wanted to tell the man to fuck off. Using stock questions to try and seem like one of the guys? That's what arseholes do, but he bit his lip.
"What time do you knock off?"
Now he waanted to pull over, get out and give the suit a good hiding. But a rich man might give a good tip, so he had to play along.
"Midnight, mate."
He turned into the road where the man wanted to be. Quite fancy houses around here.
"Just up here on the left, mate."
The taxi stopped.
"That's £7.80 please, mate."
The man in the suit dumped a mass of coins in the driver's hands.
"Keep the change, mate."
"Cheers."
He got out and disappeared into a house.
The driver counted it. He counted it again just to be sure. He'd been given £7.90. What a bastard.
The driver looked in his mirror at the man in the back. He was wearing an expensive suit and he'd picked him up at that fancy cocktail place in town. Clearly he had a good bit of money.
"Not too bad, steady away."
He wanted to tell the man to fuck off. Using stock questions to try and seem like one of the guys? That's what arseholes do, but he bit his lip.
"What time do you knock off?"
Now he waanted to pull over, get out and give the suit a good hiding. But a rich man might give a good tip, so he had to play along.
"Midnight, mate."
He turned into the road where the man wanted to be. Quite fancy houses around here.
"Just up here on the left, mate."
The taxi stopped.
"That's £7.80 please, mate."
The man in the suit dumped a mass of coins in the driver's hands.
"Keep the change, mate."
"Cheers."
He got out and disappeared into a house.
The driver counted it. He counted it again just to be sure. He'd been given £7.90. What a bastard.
Sunday 29 May 2016
Diagnosis
"Yes, that's what I think it is."
He had delivered his diagnosis. The patient wasn't pleased. She looked quite pale. Hardly surprising.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Absolutely. I've been doing this for a number of years."
"I would like a second opinion."
"Of course. Most do in your situation. They'll tell you the same thing though."
She left the doctor's office and sat in her car outside. She sobbed as she fumbled through her handbag for a packet of cigarettes.
This is it, she thought. Not long left.
She pulled out of the car park, puffing away on her last cigarette and knowing a hard left when she drove over the bridge would be enough to do the job.
He had delivered his diagnosis. The patient wasn't pleased. She looked quite pale. Hardly surprising.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Absolutely. I've been doing this for a number of years."
"I would like a second opinion."
"Of course. Most do in your situation. They'll tell you the same thing though."
She left the doctor's office and sat in her car outside. She sobbed as she fumbled through her handbag for a packet of cigarettes.
This is it, she thought. Not long left.
She pulled out of the car park, puffing away on her last cigarette and knowing a hard left when she drove over the bridge would be enough to do the job.
The Deepest Sleep
He was fast asleep, the kind of unconscious sleep that usually follows a heavy drinking session, but he hadn't touched a drop. He had become a dead-to-the-world kind of sleeper in recent times for no reason he could explain.
He'd been asleep for ten hours now and his dog was sitting at the bottom of the bed on the carpet looking at him with its head tilted slightly to one side. The waiting was patient at first, but now there was a great deal of whining.
It was long past the time for a lap of the park and feeding time was fast approaching. If dogs were military generals, this one would have declared a red alert situation by now.
Four further hours passed and neither toilet nor food was happening.
The dog jumped on the bed and licked its master's face and barked several times.
Still he slept.
The dog jumped to the wrong conclusion and assumed his master was dead.
When the man eventually awoke four hours later he was in agony as most of the flesh from his left arm had been gnawed away.
His dog slept contentedly next to him.
He'd been asleep for ten hours now and his dog was sitting at the bottom of the bed on the carpet looking at him with its head tilted slightly to one side. The waiting was patient at first, but now there was a great deal of whining.
It was long past the time for a lap of the park and feeding time was fast approaching. If dogs were military generals, this one would have declared a red alert situation by now.
Four further hours passed and neither toilet nor food was happening.
The dog jumped on the bed and licked its master's face and barked several times.
Still he slept.
The dog jumped to the wrong conclusion and assumed his master was dead.
When the man eventually awoke four hours later he was in agony as most of the flesh from his left arm had been gnawed away.
His dog slept contentedly next to him.
Friday 27 May 2016
Mug, Mug, Mug
"AAAARRRGGGHHHH!"
His anger was clear for all to see. People crossed over to the other side of the street, ushering children away from the seemingly crazy man.
He burst into the shop. People turned and stared at him. They stopped staring when they saw the rage in his eyes.
He finally got to the counter.
"COFFEE!" he barked.
"Is that a regular or large?" asked the barista as she chewed gum.
"COFFEE!" he screamed right into her face and poured coins all over the counter.
She served a large cup, correctly guessing that was what was required.
He downed it in one.
The redness drained from his face and he smiled.
"Thank you," he said quietly and left.
His anger was clear for all to see. People crossed over to the other side of the street, ushering children away from the seemingly crazy man.
He burst into the shop. People turned and stared at him. They stopped staring when they saw the rage in his eyes.
He finally got to the counter.
"COFFEE!" he barked.
"Is that a regular or large?" asked the barista as she chewed gum.
"COFFEE!" he screamed right into her face and poured coins all over the counter.
She served a large cup, correctly guessing that was what was required.
He downed it in one.
The redness drained from his face and he smiled.
"Thank you," he said quietly and left.
Thursday 26 May 2016
Good Neighbours
He stood and looked at the hedge. It was filling in nicely around the dead bit.
Of course he knew the dead part was no accident. The six-foot section mysteriously died only days after his neighbour complained it was blocking the light.
This is the neighbour who had a conservatory built without planning permission. A conservatory that on a sunny day reflected so much light that everyone with eyes was disturbed.
No, that fucker had poisoned the hedge.
It still made his blood boil just thinking about it.
His neighbour was on holiday now and it was time for revenge.
He climbed over the fence and dropped into his neighbour's garden, bag of tricks in hand.
It took less than an hour to completely cover the conservatory with black paint.
Of course he knew the dead part was no accident. The six-foot section mysteriously died only days after his neighbour complained it was blocking the light.
This is the neighbour who had a conservatory built without planning permission. A conservatory that on a sunny day reflected so much light that everyone with eyes was disturbed.
No, that fucker had poisoned the hedge.
It still made his blood boil just thinking about it.
His neighbour was on holiday now and it was time for revenge.
He climbed over the fence and dropped into his neighbour's garden, bag of tricks in hand.
It took less than an hour to completely cover the conservatory with black paint.
Wednesday 25 May 2016
Power Cut
The family sat and watched TV after their dinner. The parents did at least. The two teenage boys were connected to their tablets: listening to music, messaging their friends, watching porn or whatever the hell they got up to with those things.
The room was plunged into darkness.
"Great," said Father and got up to check the electricity meter.
"What's happening?" asked son A.
"Power cut," said Mother.
"The neighbours are outside," said Father. "The whole street is out, by the look of it.
"What are we going to do?" asked son B.
"Wait for it to come back on."
"This is so unfair!" Son B stormed out of the room.
Son A picked up a book and started to read by candlelight.
The power returned half an hour later and he continued to read.
The room was plunged into darkness.
"Great," said Father and got up to check the electricity meter.
"What's happening?" asked son A.
"Power cut," said Mother.
"The neighbours are outside," said Father. "The whole street is out, by the look of it.
"What are we going to do?" asked son B.
"Wait for it to come back on."
"This is so unfair!" Son B stormed out of the room.
Son A picked up a book and started to read by candlelight.
The power returned half an hour later and he continued to read.
Tuesday 24 May 2016
Luck
"And a lottery ticket for tonight," Norman added.
The newsagent printed one from the machine and placed it on top of the bundle of newspapers and magazines Norman was also purchasing.
"That's £25.52 altogether."
"Bloody hell! I'll need to win the lottery to afford that!" Norman quipped.
The newsagent stared back at him with an expressionless face.
Norman paid and left.
On his way home he skidded on the pavement.
"What the?"
He had stepped in some faeces, somehow managing to get both feet in it. Looking down he thought there was no way it could have come from a dog. It looked human. It wasn't just on the soles either, it had squeezed up the sides and was on the laces too. Wasn't it lucky to stand in shit though? Or was it just if a bird shat on you? He wasn't sure.
He arrived home and sat down to read his purchases, having slipped off his poo-covered shoes outside and left them on the mat.
Two newspapers and a lengthy snooze later he switched on the TV to watch the lottery draw.
The first number was 33. He had that. 17. Yes. 5. Yes! His heart was racing. He was going to win!
28. No. 41. No. 2. No.
Oh well, he'd won a tenner. He decided to go and collect it immediately. They allowed that, didn't they?
He opened the front door and looked down at the mat.
Some bastard had stolen his beshitted shoes.
The newsagent printed one from the machine and placed it on top of the bundle of newspapers and magazines Norman was also purchasing.
"That's £25.52 altogether."
"Bloody hell! I'll need to win the lottery to afford that!" Norman quipped.
The newsagent stared back at him with an expressionless face.
Norman paid and left.
On his way home he skidded on the pavement.
"What the?"
He had stepped in some faeces, somehow managing to get both feet in it. Looking down he thought there was no way it could have come from a dog. It looked human. It wasn't just on the soles either, it had squeezed up the sides and was on the laces too. Wasn't it lucky to stand in shit though? Or was it just if a bird shat on you? He wasn't sure.
He arrived home and sat down to read his purchases, having slipped off his poo-covered shoes outside and left them on the mat.
Two newspapers and a lengthy snooze later he switched on the TV to watch the lottery draw.
The first number was 33. He had that. 17. Yes. 5. Yes! His heart was racing. He was going to win!
28. No. 41. No. 2. No.
Oh well, he'd won a tenner. He decided to go and collect it immediately. They allowed that, didn't they?
He opened the front door and looked down at the mat.
Some bastard had stolen his beshitted shoes.
Monday 23 May 2016
The Sea
The tide rolled in and deposited various trinkets along the beach.
Most of them were worthless, but there was value in some.
Jason arrived as the tide went out. He knew that pieces of driftwood could be nailed together randomly and sold to gullible London tourists for a decent amount of money.
He collected as much as he could carry and took it to his van. He could see there was a lot on the beach today and he was going to have a bit of a race against time if he wanted to get it all before the tide came back in.
"What are you doing?" an old man asked as he dumped yet another load behind his van and fumbled in his pocket for the keys.
"Collecting driftwood," Jason answered, opening the doors and chucking it in the back.
"What for?"
"I make art."
"Art? Art?" The old man shook his head.
Jason ignored him and went back to collecting wood.
When he turned to head back to the van it was ablaze. He dropped what he was carrying and ran across the sand.
The old man was standing nearby.
"What happened?" asked Jason.
"Art?"
Most of them were worthless, but there was value in some.
Jason arrived as the tide went out. He knew that pieces of driftwood could be nailed together randomly and sold to gullible London tourists for a decent amount of money.
He collected as much as he could carry and took it to his van. He could see there was a lot on the beach today and he was going to have a bit of a race against time if he wanted to get it all before the tide came back in.
"What are you doing?" an old man asked as he dumped yet another load behind his van and fumbled in his pocket for the keys.
"Collecting driftwood," Jason answered, opening the doors and chucking it in the back.
"What for?"
"I make art."
"Art? Art?" The old man shook his head.
Jason ignored him and went back to collecting wood.
When he turned to head back to the van it was ablaze. He dropped what he was carrying and ran across the sand.
The old man was standing nearby.
"What happened?" asked Jason.
"Art?"
Sunday 22 May 2016
Misery
He was never happy, even when he was really happy - especially not when he was really happy.
He had been conditioned into shunning happiness at an early age. With a family like his it was difficult to ever be truly happy, but as an adult he found himself feeling guilty for ever approaching happiness.
To combat this he did a job he hated and surrounded himself with superficial friends who he despised.
He went to see films he knew he wouldn't like and ate in restaurants that had got poor reviews.
He exercised every day at a gym full of people who were self-obsessed and he did extra cardio, which he detested.
All of this wasn't enough to maintain a sufficient level of misery.
There was only one thing left to do.
He moved to Doncaster.
He had been conditioned into shunning happiness at an early age. With a family like his it was difficult to ever be truly happy, but as an adult he found himself feeling guilty for ever approaching happiness.
To combat this he did a job he hated and surrounded himself with superficial friends who he despised.
He went to see films he knew he wouldn't like and ate in restaurants that had got poor reviews.
He exercised every day at a gym full of people who were self-obsessed and he did extra cardio, which he detested.
All of this wasn't enough to maintain a sufficient level of misery.
There was only one thing left to do.
He moved to Doncaster.
Saturday 21 May 2016
Sofa
“I got
my new sofa delivered today,” said Joe.
“That’s
brilliant! I know you’ve been looking forward to that arriving.”
“Yeah.”
Joe stared off into the middle distance. He looked upset.
“What’s
the matter?”
“It was
the guys who delivered it. They were right miserable buggers.”
“So?”
“It’s
just ruined the whole experience for me.”
Friday 20 May 2016
Dressing Room
There was a knock on the door and the man entered without being invited.
"There he is!" the man enthused.
He was the 'entertainment manager' and as far as Daryl could tell this involved nothing more than being patronising and pretending to be happy.
"Everything OK? "
"Well," said Daryl, thinking that this interruption wasn't, "I've got no toilet."
"Use the sink."
"I'm not going to use the sink!" Daryl protested. "I thought I'd have a proper dressing room when I was booked to play here."
"Oh, it is a proper dressing room. Just without a normal toilet. Seriously though, use the sink. Everybody else does."
Daryl pondered this.
"Alright. I'll want some privacy though."
The man smiled and shuffled out of the door.
Daryl used the sink and went to perform on the ridiculously small stage.
As the music played the entertainment manager went into Daryl's dressing room to check everything was OK.
He was struck by a foul smell.
A cursory search revealed the stink was coming from the sink. A huge turd was coiled up in the basin like a cobra.
"There he is!" the man enthused.
He was the 'entertainment manager' and as far as Daryl could tell this involved nothing more than being patronising and pretending to be happy.
"Everything OK? "
"Well," said Daryl, thinking that this interruption wasn't, "I've got no toilet."
"Use the sink."
"I'm not going to use the sink!" Daryl protested. "I thought I'd have a proper dressing room when I was booked to play here."
"Oh, it is a proper dressing room. Just without a normal toilet. Seriously though, use the sink. Everybody else does."
Daryl pondered this.
"Alright. I'll want some privacy though."
The man smiled and shuffled out of the door.
Daryl used the sink and went to perform on the ridiculously small stage.
As the music played the entertainment manager went into Daryl's dressing room to check everything was OK.
He was struck by a foul smell.
A cursory search revealed the stink was coming from the sink. A huge turd was coiled up in the basin like a cobra.
Breakfast
She filled her bowl with cereal and opened the fridge.
No milk.
Bugger. Time for a rethink.
There was a jar of jam in there which she took out before opening the bread bin.
She found a crust that once belonged to a white loaf but was now all green.
There was nothing else suitable for breakfast anywhere in the house. There was only one thing for it.
She twisted the cap off a bottle of vodka and took a huge slug.
No milk.
Bugger. Time for a rethink.
There was a jar of jam in there which she took out before opening the bread bin.
She found a crust that once belonged to a white loaf but was now all green.
There was nothing else suitable for breakfast anywhere in the house. There was only one thing for it.
She twisted the cap off a bottle of vodka and took a huge slug.
Wednesday 18 May 2016
Birds
The tweeting and squawking woke him up just after 4am again.
The windows were shut and he was wearing earplugs, but for the millionth day in a row the little feathery bastards had disturbed his sleep.
He turned over, putting a pillow over his head in a futile attempt to drown out the noise.
Sleep wasn't going to happen.
Still the birds yelled at each other.
He jumped out of bed and opened the window.
"SHUT UP!" he shouted at them.
There was a moment of absolute stillness and he thought he'd actually silenced them.
The avian noise started again, even louder.
He slammed the window shut and returned to bed, knowing he was now awake for the day.
The windows were shut and he was wearing earplugs, but for the millionth day in a row the little feathery bastards had disturbed his sleep.
He turned over, putting a pillow over his head in a futile attempt to drown out the noise.
Sleep wasn't going to happen.
Still the birds yelled at each other.
He jumped out of bed and opened the window.
"SHUT UP!" he shouted at them.
There was a moment of absolute stillness and he thought he'd actually silenced them.
The avian noise started again, even louder.
He slammed the window shut and returned to bed, knowing he was now awake for the day.
Tuesday 17 May 2016
Monday 16 May 2016
Vikings
The boat landed on the beach and the men leapt out.
After the long voyage it would be nice to stretch their legs, but they weren't here to sightsee.
The men in their horned helmets, carrying shields and swords ran shouting over the sand towards the settlement.
England.
Leif had been before. It was worth the tough crossing to get to this land. Perhaps he would stay this time?
The man walking near the beach stood no chance as Leif ran him through.
He continued into the settlement which they hoped to capture. It would be easy.
Dwellings were being set ablaze as the men advanced. People ran screaming. They would all soon die.
There was a screeching noise followed by a slam. A large mechanical bird hovered above them.
A loud voice boomed out: "This is the police. Put down your weapons. We've got you surrounded."
After the long voyage it would be nice to stretch their legs, but they weren't here to sightsee.
The men in their horned helmets, carrying shields and swords ran shouting over the sand towards the settlement.
England.
Leif had been before. It was worth the tough crossing to get to this land. Perhaps he would stay this time?
The man walking near the beach stood no chance as Leif ran him through.
He continued into the settlement which they hoped to capture. It would be easy.
Dwellings were being set ablaze as the men advanced. People ran screaming. They would all soon die.
There was a screeching noise followed by a slam. A large mechanical bird hovered above them.
A loud voice boomed out: "This is the police. Put down your weapons. We've got you surrounded."
Sunday 15 May 2016
The Cave
The three boys had spotted the entrance to the cave one day at the beach. It was concealed among the sand dunes and it didn't look like anyone had been inside recently. They thought about old tales of smugglers and decided to come back later and explore it when there were fewer people around.
Under cover of darkness they met and made their way to the cave. They all had torches and the bravest one of them led the way.
The entrance was barely four feet high and it became smaller as they entered, bringing about the need to crawl. After a few minutes the size of it increased significantly and they were standing in a large cavern.
"Wow!" said one of them as he shone his torch around.
"What's that?" asked another, spotting a drawing on the wall.
It resembled a combination of hieroglyphics and cave paintings and appeared to depict men running from the sea.
"Maybe they couldn't swim," one of the boys suggested.
There was a loud roaring noise coming from the entrance.
"What's that?"
Before anyone could speculate as to what it was the sea rapidly filled their exit as it raced in, rising rapidly.
Within minutes the cavern was completely flooded. The boys stood no chance.
Under cover of darkness they met and made their way to the cave. They all had torches and the bravest one of them led the way.
The entrance was barely four feet high and it became smaller as they entered, bringing about the need to crawl. After a few minutes the size of it increased significantly and they were standing in a large cavern.
"Wow!" said one of them as he shone his torch around.
"What's that?" asked another, spotting a drawing on the wall.
It resembled a combination of hieroglyphics and cave paintings and appeared to depict men running from the sea.
"Maybe they couldn't swim," one of the boys suggested.
There was a loud roaring noise coming from the entrance.
"What's that?"
Before anyone could speculate as to what it was the sea rapidly filled their exit as it raced in, rising rapidly.
Within minutes the cavern was completely flooded. The boys stood no chance.
Pause
People went about their business as normal in the city. There was all the hustle, bustle and the like that you'd expect to see. Shoppers were sucked into retail outlets and then vomited out. Buses crawled along nose-to-tail and taxi drivers put their weight on their horns.
There was a sudden jolt. It was the feeling you get when a train brakes hard unexpectedly. Almost everyone was thrown to the ground. There were more than a few sprained wrists, bruises and whiplash-like injuries. Several vehicles crashed which led to more sounding of horns. Cracks appeared in the pavement and up the sides of a few buildings.
Up above in his office a man stood rubbing his hands together as he watched the events unfolding. He was grasping a rail next to the window firmly and had avoided the shock of the jolt. He turned to face those at the table behind him. One man was frantically mopping up water which had spilled during the incident.
"There you have it, gentlemen," he said, an almost cartoon-like grin spreading across his face.
"Have you really done it?" a woman asked.
"Yes, I have stopped the world from turning."
"So what now?"
"We wait."
There was a sudden jolt. It was the feeling you get when a train brakes hard unexpectedly. Almost everyone was thrown to the ground. There were more than a few sprained wrists, bruises and whiplash-like injuries. Several vehicles crashed which led to more sounding of horns. Cracks appeared in the pavement and up the sides of a few buildings.
Up above in his office a man stood rubbing his hands together as he watched the events unfolding. He was grasping a rail next to the window firmly and had avoided the shock of the jolt. He turned to face those at the table behind him. One man was frantically mopping up water which had spilled during the incident.
"There you have it, gentlemen," he said, an almost cartoon-like grin spreading across his face.
"Have you really done it?" a woman asked.
"Yes, I have stopped the world from turning."
"So what now?"
"We wait."
Saturday 14 May 2016
Turning Dining Back into Eating
"Where's my food?"
"It'll be with you in a minute, sir."
Sir was said with such disdain it was clearly meant as an insult.
The waiter disappeared and the man resumed his game of sitting and wondering if he'd ever get to eat.
He stared out of the window at happy people who'd probably already eaten walking up the high street.
The food finally arrived and he had little recollection of what he'd ordered - so much time had elapsed since ordering that an ice age could have been and gone.
"There you go, sir."
He looked at the plate, which contained something resembling the cremains of a piece of beef.
"I asked for it rare," he said.
"I'm so sorry."
The waiter, who clearly wasn't the least bit sorry, whipped the plate away.
Minutes later he returned and slammed the plate back in front of the man.
"Nothing he can do."
"What?"
"The chef. He can't do anything."
"But it's overcooked."
"That's the problem. He can't uncook it."
"Then he can cook a new piece."
The waiter threw his head back as he laughed with great force.
"This is ridiculous. I demand to speak to the manager."
"Very well, sir."
The waiter disappeared and returned a mere fifteen minutes later with a red-faced man in a suit.
"Are you the man who complained about the steak?"
"Yes, I am."
"Get out, we don't want the likes of you in here."
"It'll be with you in a minute, sir."
Sir was said with such disdain it was clearly meant as an insult.
The waiter disappeared and the man resumed his game of sitting and wondering if he'd ever get to eat.
He stared out of the window at happy people who'd probably already eaten walking up the high street.
The food finally arrived and he had little recollection of what he'd ordered - so much time had elapsed since ordering that an ice age could have been and gone.
"There you go, sir."
He looked at the plate, which contained something resembling the cremains of a piece of beef.
"I asked for it rare," he said.
"I'm so sorry."
The waiter, who clearly wasn't the least bit sorry, whipped the plate away.
Minutes later he returned and slammed the plate back in front of the man.
"Nothing he can do."
"What?"
"The chef. He can't do anything."
"But it's overcooked."
"That's the problem. He can't uncook it."
"Then he can cook a new piece."
The waiter threw his head back as he laughed with great force.
"This is ridiculous. I demand to speak to the manager."
"Very well, sir."
The waiter disappeared and returned a mere fifteen minutes later with a red-faced man in a suit.
"Are you the man who complained about the steak?"
"Yes, I am."
"Get out, we don't want the likes of you in here."
Thursday 12 May 2016
Train
"Tickets please."
The conductor entered the carriage and as soon as the words escaped his mouth he noticed the woman at the far end flee in panic. The door swished open and she raced down the aisle of the next carriage.
He knew it was unlikely she had a valid ticket as he watched her advance a further two carriages.
He scrutinised every ticket and pass he was presented with. Everything was in order. Nobody asked him any ridiculous questions - the best one ever was still the time just outside King's Cross that an elderly couple had demanded to know the ticket prices and showtimes of a show in the West End that night.
Eventually he reached the final carriage. The woman who had fled was at the far end, attempting to stay out of sight and failing.
"Tickets please."
The woman opened her handbag and went through what the conductor knew to be a fake I-can't-find-my-ticket routine. It would end with her pulling a face and saying something like "oh, I must have left it in the machine; I was in quite a hurry". He'd seen enough fare-dodgers in his time.
The woman presented him with a ticket, much to his surprise.
A quick inspection showed it was an old one and he looked up from it just in time to get a faceful of pepper spray.
The woman stood and pushed him onto the seats on the opposite side of the aisle before setting off running to the other end of the train.
The conductor screamed and rubbed his eyes as the train began to slow. They were almost there and the woman would escape. The only hope was that the CCTV on the train actually worked.
"Excuse me," a man said to him as tears streamed down his face. "What time does London Zoo close today?"
The conductor entered the carriage and as soon as the words escaped his mouth he noticed the woman at the far end flee in panic. The door swished open and she raced down the aisle of the next carriage.
He knew it was unlikely she had a valid ticket as he watched her advance a further two carriages.
He scrutinised every ticket and pass he was presented with. Everything was in order. Nobody asked him any ridiculous questions - the best one ever was still the time just outside King's Cross that an elderly couple had demanded to know the ticket prices and showtimes of a show in the West End that night.
Eventually he reached the final carriage. The woman who had fled was at the far end, attempting to stay out of sight and failing.
"Tickets please."
The woman opened her handbag and went through what the conductor knew to be a fake I-can't-find-my-ticket routine. It would end with her pulling a face and saying something like "oh, I must have left it in the machine; I was in quite a hurry". He'd seen enough fare-dodgers in his time.
The woman presented him with a ticket, much to his surprise.
A quick inspection showed it was an old one and he looked up from it just in time to get a faceful of pepper spray.
The woman stood and pushed him onto the seats on the opposite side of the aisle before setting off running to the other end of the train.
The conductor screamed and rubbed his eyes as the train began to slow. They were almost there and the woman would escape. The only hope was that the CCTV on the train actually worked.
"Excuse me," a man said to him as tears streamed down his face. "What time does London Zoo close today?"
Wednesday 11 May 2016
Cat
"Is your cat missing?" asked the young boy.
He was very astute and had clearly noticed Judy sticking up the poster with a large photo of a cat on it and the text 'HELP! OUR CAT IS MISSING!'
"Yes," she said, deciding not to give a sarcastic response.
"Where did you lose it?"
"If I knew that it wouldn't be lost."
This answer caused the boy to screw his face up in an exaggerated display of confusion.
"I might have seen it," he said.
"Where?"
"You'll have to make it worth my while."
"What? You want money?"
"That's how it works, isn't it? I want a reward."
"I'm not giving a reward."
"Well I'm not telling you where your cat is."
Judy sighed and took out her purse. She opened it and pulled out a tenner.
"Is that enough?"
The boy rolled his eyes.
"It's all I've got," she protested.
While all this was going on, Judy's cat had arrived home and shredded a bird all over the kitchen.
He was very astute and had clearly noticed Judy sticking up the poster with a large photo of a cat on it and the text 'HELP! OUR CAT IS MISSING!'
"Yes," she said, deciding not to give a sarcastic response.
"Where did you lose it?"
"If I knew that it wouldn't be lost."
This answer caused the boy to screw his face up in an exaggerated display of confusion.
"I might have seen it," he said.
"Where?"
"You'll have to make it worth my while."
"What? You want money?"
"That's how it works, isn't it? I want a reward."
"I'm not giving a reward."
"Well I'm not telling you where your cat is."
Judy sighed and took out her purse. She opened it and pulled out a tenner.
"Is that enough?"
The boy rolled his eyes.
"It's all I've got," she protested.
While all this was going on, Judy's cat had arrived home and shredded a bird all over the kitchen.
Tuesday 10 May 2016
The Lake
The road led to the lake and as a result became incredibly busy during the summer months.
Due to a series of unfortunate accidents nobody was allowed in or on the water any more. This included, but was not limited to, swimming, windsurfing, sailing and the use of motorboats.
Now people turned up, got out of their cars and stood looking at the lake as if hypnotised by the water.
There were a group of safety officers who patrolled the lake, making sure nobody entered it.
Hundreds of people were lining its edge on this sunny day.
One man tore off his clothes and walked into the water.
"Stop that! Get out!" a safety officer shouted.
The man didn't listen. Neither did the hundreds of others who also removed their clothes and followed him into the lake.
The safety officers were in a state of panic. Phone calls were being made.
The rescue operation was a disaster. Only 7 of the 625 people who went into the lake survived.
Due to a series of unfortunate accidents nobody was allowed in or on the water any more. This included, but was not limited to, swimming, windsurfing, sailing and the use of motorboats.
Now people turned up, got out of their cars and stood looking at the lake as if hypnotised by the water.
There were a group of safety officers who patrolled the lake, making sure nobody entered it.
Hundreds of people were lining its edge on this sunny day.
One man tore off his clothes and walked into the water.
"Stop that! Get out!" a safety officer shouted.
The man didn't listen. Neither did the hundreds of others who also removed their clothes and followed him into the lake.
The safety officers were in a state of panic. Phone calls were being made.
The rescue operation was a disaster. Only 7 of the 625 people who went into the lake survived.
Monday 9 May 2016
Gardening
I arrived at the allotment, ready for the latest battle in the War of the Weeds.
The weeds had advanced significantly since my last visit and I was ready to wipe them out in a pincer movement.
With my arsenal of gardening tools I slowly began wiping them out. There would be no survivors this time.
The sound of a motor starting drifted across from a field next to the allotments. It grew louder and louder and its pitch became higher and higher. A helicopter slowly appeared behind the hedge. It lurched forwards like a drunken uncle at a wedding until the pilot gained some semblance of control.
It flew away from the allotments and then turned and headed straight towards me. It was very low.
I jumped over the fence and began to run up the track to the road.
I turned just in time to see the helicopter crash into my plot. It was very soon engulfed in flames. I caught a glimpse of the pilot as the machine burned. It looked like a man made entirely from weeds. He lifted his hand and gave me the finger and he was visibly laughing.
The fuel leaking from the helicopter was spreading all over the allotment. My shed was soon on fire.
The latest battle was well and truly lost. Kamikaze weed man had made sure of that.
Well played, weeds, but I will return.
The weeds had advanced significantly since my last visit and I was ready to wipe them out in a pincer movement.
With my arsenal of gardening tools I slowly began wiping them out. There would be no survivors this time.
The sound of a motor starting drifted across from a field next to the allotments. It grew louder and louder and its pitch became higher and higher. A helicopter slowly appeared behind the hedge. It lurched forwards like a drunken uncle at a wedding until the pilot gained some semblance of control.
It flew away from the allotments and then turned and headed straight towards me. It was very low.
I jumped over the fence and began to run up the track to the road.
I turned just in time to see the helicopter crash into my plot. It was very soon engulfed in flames. I caught a glimpse of the pilot as the machine burned. It looked like a man made entirely from weeds. He lifted his hand and gave me the finger and he was visibly laughing.
The fuel leaking from the helicopter was spreading all over the allotment. My shed was soon on fire.
The latest battle was well and truly lost. Kamikaze weed man had made sure of that.
Well played, weeds, but I will return.
Sunday 8 May 2016
Monday Morning
There was no switching off the alarm and going back to sleep. It was cruel, but he needed to be up and at 'em.
He threw on yesterday's clothes that were strewn over the bedroom carpet.
He was ready.
He hated Mondays, just like the kid in the Boomtown Rats' song. He hated the Boomtown Rats too, but that was neither here nor there.
He climbed up on to his roof. He was armed and he was going to claim quite a few victims before they stopped him.
He began his work.
SMACK!
Right on the side of a woman's face. She fell forwards, clutching her cheek.
POW!
The next victim was a businessman. Hit straight in the chest. It made a hell of a mess of his suit.
The police arrived quickly, following multiple reports of a crazy man on his roof who was throwing fruit and vegetables at passsers by.
He threw on yesterday's clothes that were strewn over the bedroom carpet.
He was ready.
He hated Mondays, just like the kid in the Boomtown Rats' song. He hated the Boomtown Rats too, but that was neither here nor there.
He climbed up on to his roof. He was armed and he was going to claim quite a few victims before they stopped him.
He began his work.
SMACK!
Right on the side of a woman's face. She fell forwards, clutching her cheek.
POW!
The next victim was a businessman. Hit straight in the chest. It made a hell of a mess of his suit.
The police arrived quickly, following multiple reports of a crazy man on his roof who was throwing fruit and vegetables at passsers by.
Saturday 7 May 2016
Cheers
Harry walked into the pub.
He came here almost every night and had done for almost six months, but nobody knew his name.
He generally sat at the bar, drinking lager and eating peanuts alone for two hours after work.
"Alright, mate. What can I get you?" asked the barman who served him almost every night.
How do you not know what I drink by now? Harry thought.
"Stella, please."
"Pint?"
No, a fucking hogshead, you moron.
"Yes please."
His beer was planted in front of him and he took the first sweet sip.
The barman had disappeared to the other end of the bar and was talking to a couple of regulars.
How much money do I need to spend in this place to be like one of them?
The pint was drained quickly and Harry stood to go to the toilet.
"Thanks mate," said the barman, mistakenly thinking that Harry was leaving.
Harry said nothing. He walked into the gents where he was alone. He urinated and then washed his hands. As he ran the tap he noticed that the basin was slightly loose. He grabbed it firmly and rocked it back and forth. He'd soon torn it away from the wall. He did the same with the basin next to it. The water pipe became disconnected and began to spew water like a cheap fountain.
He dried his hands using the hot air blower which he then yanked from the wall and smashed on the tiles which were rapidly becoming wetter.
He slipped out of the pub as the barman chinwagged with the two men.
Fuck you all, he thought.
He came here almost every night and had done for almost six months, but nobody knew his name.
He generally sat at the bar, drinking lager and eating peanuts alone for two hours after work.
"Alright, mate. What can I get you?" asked the barman who served him almost every night.
How do you not know what I drink by now? Harry thought.
"Stella, please."
"Pint?"
No, a fucking hogshead, you moron.
"Yes please."
His beer was planted in front of him and he took the first sweet sip.
The barman had disappeared to the other end of the bar and was talking to a couple of regulars.
How much money do I need to spend in this place to be like one of them?
The pint was drained quickly and Harry stood to go to the toilet.
"Thanks mate," said the barman, mistakenly thinking that Harry was leaving.
Harry said nothing. He walked into the gents where he was alone. He urinated and then washed his hands. As he ran the tap he noticed that the basin was slightly loose. He grabbed it firmly and rocked it back and forth. He'd soon torn it away from the wall. He did the same with the basin next to it. The water pipe became disconnected and began to spew water like a cheap fountain.
He dried his hands using the hot air blower which he then yanked from the wall and smashed on the tiles which were rapidly becoming wetter.
He slipped out of the pub as the barman chinwagged with the two men.
Fuck you all, he thought.
Friday 6 May 2016
Car park
"There's one, right over there," I said.
"Where?" he asked.
Too late. A guy in a blue van zipped in before my dad could react.
"Shit!" he said.
He drove around for a further fifteen minutes. There were supposedly 500 spaces in the supermarket car park and they were all taken.
"There!" I yelled, pointing slightly to the right ahead of us.
Yet again we were beaten by someone quicker.
"Sod it, I'll just park in a disabled spot," he suggested.
"You can't do that," I replied.
"I can and I will."
"No, you can't because they're all full too."
"Fucking hell!"
My dad drove around the car park for another five minutes.
"Bollocks to it," he said and ploughed into the back of a small Smart car, testing the quality of the seatbelts and almost giving us both whiplash in the process. The smaller vehicle was accordioned into a wall and we were at best 50% inside the lines.
He put on the handbrake and switched off the engine.
"Seriously?" I asked, but he was already on his way out of the car.
"Where?" he asked.
Too late. A guy in a blue van zipped in before my dad could react.
"Shit!" he said.
He drove around for a further fifteen minutes. There were supposedly 500 spaces in the supermarket car park and they were all taken.
"There!" I yelled, pointing slightly to the right ahead of us.
Yet again we were beaten by someone quicker.
"Sod it, I'll just park in a disabled spot," he suggested.
"You can't do that," I replied.
"I can and I will."
"No, you can't because they're all full too."
"Fucking hell!"
My dad drove around the car park for another five minutes.
"Bollocks to it," he said and ploughed into the back of a small Smart car, testing the quality of the seatbelts and almost giving us both whiplash in the process. The smaller vehicle was accordioned into a wall and we were at best 50% inside the lines.
He put on the handbrake and switched off the engine.
"Seriously?" I asked, but he was already on his way out of the car.
Thursday 5 May 2016
Smoking Kills
"20 Superkings please, mate," said Gordon to the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper was smoking. Clearly he didn't care about rules much. Gordon didn't care.
He pulled a £10 note from his wallet. That was only just enough for a packet these days. Gordon could remember when they cost just fifty pence, but that seemed like a lifetime ago now.
The shopkeeper exchanged the note for a pack of cigarettes and a few coins.
The shop began to shake, as if there was a mild earthquake. The shelves rattled and the two men exchanged concerned looks.
"What the..."
The shaking became more violent and one of the windows smashed. Shelves toppled over and the floor was soon littered with the shopkeeper's stock. The two men headed for the door, dodging falling debris. It wouldn't open.
There was a roar and the shop dropped sharply downwards, becoming mostly rubble when it eventually stopped its descent.
The rest of the road had escaped the sinkhole.
The shopkeeper was smoking. Clearly he didn't care about rules much. Gordon didn't care.
He pulled a £10 note from his wallet. That was only just enough for a packet these days. Gordon could remember when they cost just fifty pence, but that seemed like a lifetime ago now.
The shopkeeper exchanged the note for a pack of cigarettes and a few coins.
The shop began to shake, as if there was a mild earthquake. The shelves rattled and the two men exchanged concerned looks.
"What the..."
The shaking became more violent and one of the windows smashed. Shelves toppled over and the floor was soon littered with the shopkeeper's stock. The two men headed for the door, dodging falling debris. It wouldn't open.
There was a roar and the shop dropped sharply downwards, becoming mostly rubble when it eventually stopped its descent.
The rest of the road had escaped the sinkhole.
Wednesday 4 May 2016
Disturbance
The youth sat at the back of the bus. Every other passenger on there was being subjected to his music.
He was wearing ridiculously oversized headphones and they could hear the thudding of a bass drum; the t-tsshhh, t-tsshhh of the hi-hat; and the bleepy, electronic melody. It sounded like an 80s video game song with percussion.
Everyone took it in turns to stare at the youth with disapproval, but he didn't care. They could probably hear it better than he could anyway, as his constant consumption of high-volume music had rendered him almost totally deaf.
The driver looked in his mirror at the young man. The music was annoying him to the point where his driving had become aggressive and unsafe. His foot pressed down the accelerator and he ground his teeth tightly together.
The button was pressed and the bell dinged. A couple of passengers made their way towards the door. The bus continued to accelerate and missed the stop.
"Excuse me..." started one of the would-be disembarkees.
"Fuck off!" screamed the driver.
He deviated from his route sightly as he swerved at speed to avoid a cyclist and ended up in the canal.
As the bus filled with water the music still played.
He was wearing ridiculously oversized headphones and they could hear the thudding of a bass drum; the t-tsshhh, t-tsshhh of the hi-hat; and the bleepy, electronic melody. It sounded like an 80s video game song with percussion.
Everyone took it in turns to stare at the youth with disapproval, but he didn't care. They could probably hear it better than he could anyway, as his constant consumption of high-volume music had rendered him almost totally deaf.
The driver looked in his mirror at the young man. The music was annoying him to the point where his driving had become aggressive and unsafe. His foot pressed down the accelerator and he ground his teeth tightly together.
The button was pressed and the bell dinged. A couple of passengers made their way towards the door. The bus continued to accelerate and missed the stop.
"Excuse me..." started one of the would-be disembarkees.
"Fuck off!" screamed the driver.
He deviated from his route sightly as he swerved at speed to avoid a cyclist and ended up in the canal.
As the bus filled with water the music still played.
Stalker
She saw him lurking in the bushes outside her house as she looked out of the bedroom window. There was no element of stealth to it. He wasn't especially good at what he was doing or was that the point? Perhaps he wanted to be discovered?
She didn't care. She sat at her dressing table and brushed her hair. The binoculars he used were almost blinding her as they reflected the sun straight into her eyes via the mirror.
She saw him come out of the bushes and walk down the road. She knew she'd see him again on the bus and outside her work and in the coffee shop and in the park at lunchtime and on the bus home again.
She pulled open the drawer of the dressing table and took out her scrapbook. She leafed through the pages. They were full of photos of her stalker that she'd taken while he wasn't looking.
She touched the one where he looked handsome outside the bank.
One day, she thought.
She didn't care. She sat at her dressing table and brushed her hair. The binoculars he used were almost blinding her as they reflected the sun straight into her eyes via the mirror.
She saw him come out of the bushes and walk down the road. She knew she'd see him again on the bus and outside her work and in the coffee shop and in the park at lunchtime and on the bus home again.
She pulled open the drawer of the dressing table and took out her scrapbook. She leafed through the pages. They were full of photos of her stalker that she'd taken while he wasn't looking.
She touched the one where he looked handsome outside the bank.
One day, she thought.
Monday 2 May 2016
Funk to Funky
Devon stood and looked down at the sea. She felt a sense of tranquility as she watched the waves lapping over the beach. There was a slight breeze and the occasional sound of a gull yelling something or other at his mates.
She took the urn from her rucksack and opened the lid.
"Goodbye, darling," she said.
She tipped the urn and poured the ashes off the cliff top. The wind changed direction and blew them straight at her. She covered her eyes and coughed, imagining how funny her late husband would have found it.
A cyclist was passing on the narrow footpath. The ashes stung him in the face and he swerved suddenly, ploughing into Devon.
The two of them and the bike fell towards the beach. The urn was nestled in the long grass at the top of the cliff.
She took the urn from her rucksack and opened the lid.
"Goodbye, darling," she said.
She tipped the urn and poured the ashes off the cliff top. The wind changed direction and blew them straight at her. She covered her eyes and coughed, imagining how funny her late husband would have found it.
A cyclist was passing on the narrow footpath. The ashes stung him in the face and he swerved suddenly, ploughing into Devon.
The two of them and the bike fell towards the beach. The urn was nestled in the long grass at the top of the cliff.
Sunday 1 May 2016
Deed
The old woman sat on the bench next to the pond. It was the perfect day for it - sunny, but not too sunny. She positioned her flask of coffee and her container of sandwiches on the bench next to her. She took the book from her bag and began reading.
Children played nearby, running and laughing.
She was so engrossed in her book that she didn't notice how quickly time was passing. She was struggling to read, fighting her eyes which wanted to close. It was starting to get dark. She looked at her watch and was shocked to see she'd been sitting there for nine hours.
The park took on a different atmosphere at night. The children were gone and had been replaced by cider drinkers and drug users, both recreational and professional.
She bundled everything into her bag and shuffled towards the exit.
"Hey, lady," a drunken voice slurred at her.
She ignored it.
"Hey!" It was shouted this time.
The owner of the voice was getting closer. She panicked and attempted to move faster. It was no good and the young man soon caught up to her. She felt a hand on her shoulder and feared the worst.
"Hey," the voice said.
She turned around and saw a man holding a bottle of spirit in one hand and a bookmark in the other.
"You dropped this," he said, handing her the bookmark.
Children played nearby, running and laughing.
She was so engrossed in her book that she didn't notice how quickly time was passing. She was struggling to read, fighting her eyes which wanted to close. It was starting to get dark. She looked at her watch and was shocked to see she'd been sitting there for nine hours.
The park took on a different atmosphere at night. The children were gone and had been replaced by cider drinkers and drug users, both recreational and professional.
She bundled everything into her bag and shuffled towards the exit.
"Hey, lady," a drunken voice slurred at her.
She ignored it.
"Hey!" It was shouted this time.
The owner of the voice was getting closer. She panicked and attempted to move faster. It was no good and the young man soon caught up to her. She felt a hand on her shoulder and feared the worst.
"Hey," the voice said.
She turned around and saw a man holding a bottle of spirit in one hand and a bookmark in the other.
"You dropped this," he said, handing her the bookmark.
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