He walked into the room. The door slammed behind him. The lights came on. What the hell? He grabbed the handle. It wouldn't budge. Music started to play. Reggae. Fucking reggae. It was far too loud.
"Make it stop!"
He covered his ears. It didn't help. The music's volume increased.
He screamed. His head pounded. He felt a rumbling sensation. He fell to the floor. Blood trickled from one ear. Rumbling in his head intensified. He was in agony.
Suddenly the music became quieter. It faded to nothing.
He started to speak, but stopped. He couldn't hear his voice.
Sunday, 7 August 2016
Paper
"Have you got a pen and paper? I'll write it down."
"You what?" His colleague frowned at the suggestion he had made.
Howard kept forgetting that things were different now. Ever since the new law had been passed, the use of paper was illegal. The government's stance on environmental issues had shifted from couldn't give a shit to deeply concerned almost overnight.
"Never mind. I'll just type it into my phone."
He returned to his desk.
An hour later two police officers arrived at Howard's work station.
"You need to come with us, sir," one of them said.
"What for?"
"You know what for. Environmental crime is taken very seriously now."
"But I..."
The officer cuffed him and dragged him away from his desk.
Howard noticed the colleague he'd been talking to earlier looking ashamed as they passed his desk en route to the cell where he would be detained for four days.
"You what?" His colleague frowned at the suggestion he had made.
Howard kept forgetting that things were different now. Ever since the new law had been passed, the use of paper was illegal. The government's stance on environmental issues had shifted from couldn't give a shit to deeply concerned almost overnight.
"Never mind. I'll just type it into my phone."
He returned to his desk.
An hour later two police officers arrived at Howard's work station.
"You need to come with us, sir," one of them said.
"What for?"
"You know what for. Environmental crime is taken very seriously now."
"But I..."
The officer cuffed him and dragged him away from his desk.
Howard noticed the colleague he'd been talking to earlier looking ashamed as they passed his desk en route to the cell where he would be detained for four days.
Saturday, 6 August 2016
Supermarket
Nigel headed for his favourite part of the store - the reduced section.
It wasn't the section that was reduced, it was the prices of the goods displayed there. There were always bargains to be had and today was no different by the looks of it.
There were pieces of cheese from as little as 20p and a huge pizza for £1. He grabbed as much as he could in one go and stuffed it in his basket.
"Put that back," said a voice behind him.
Nigel turned around and saw a supermarket employee waving a gun at him.
"What the...?"
"Put it back."
"Why?"
The question hung in the air unanswered as a single shot was fired.
It wasn't the section that was reduced, it was the prices of the goods displayed there. There were always bargains to be had and today was no different by the looks of it.
There were pieces of cheese from as little as 20p and a huge pizza for £1. He grabbed as much as he could in one go and stuffed it in his basket.
"Put that back," said a voice behind him.
Nigel turned around and saw a supermarket employee waving a gun at him.
"What the...?"
"Put it back."
"Why?"
The question hung in the air unanswered as a single shot was fired.
Friday, 5 August 2016
Tower
The people looked like ants beneath him. There was a distance of several hundred feet down to the pavement. He suddenly remembered some comedian or other talking about the Tower.
"If you threw a ham sandwich off it," he had said, "it would build up so much speed on the way down that it would kill somebody."
This wasn't necessarily funny, but he wondered if it was true.
He had a sandwich in his bag. It wasn't ham, it was egg mayonnaise, but the principal was the same.
He took it from his bag, removed the clingfilm and lobbed it over the side. He watched as it descended.
A seagull swooped and grabbed the falling sarnie, ending his experiment.
"If you threw a ham sandwich off it," he had said, "it would build up so much speed on the way down that it would kill somebody."
This wasn't necessarily funny, but he wondered if it was true.
He had a sandwich in his bag. It wasn't ham, it was egg mayonnaise, but the principal was the same.
He took it from his bag, removed the clingfilm and lobbed it over the side. He watched as it descended.
A seagull swooped and grabbed the falling sarnie, ending his experiment.
Thursday, 4 August 2016
Quick Pint
It had been a while since he sent the text to his wife.
"Just going for a quick drink with the boys. See you soon."
It had been more than a while in all honesty. 16:23, it said beneath the message he had sent. It was now almost 03:00. He'd been in the pub for 10 hours. He knew he was in trouble, but he wasn't going to be in any more trouble if he had another pint, was he?
He drained his glass and staggered to the bar. The rest of his colleagues had bailed out hours ago, but he was determined to keep going.
As the barman poured him another drink the phone behind the bar rang.
"Excuse me," said the barman and answered it.
He was agreeing with whatever the caller was saying.
"Ok, I'll tell him," he said as he hung up.
"Who was that?" the man slurred.
"It was your wife. She said not to bother coming home."
The man thought about this for a while.
"I'll have a double whisky as well."
He laid a crumpled twenty pound note - his last one - on the bar and smoothed it out.
"Just going for a quick drink with the boys. See you soon."
It had been more than a while in all honesty. 16:23, it said beneath the message he had sent. It was now almost 03:00. He'd been in the pub for 10 hours. He knew he was in trouble, but he wasn't going to be in any more trouble if he had another pint, was he?
He drained his glass and staggered to the bar. The rest of his colleagues had bailed out hours ago, but he was determined to keep going.
As the barman poured him another drink the phone behind the bar rang.
"Excuse me," said the barman and answered it.
He was agreeing with whatever the caller was saying.
"Ok, I'll tell him," he said as he hung up.
"Who was that?" the man slurred.
"It was your wife. She said not to bother coming home."
The man thought about this for a while.
"I'll have a double whisky as well."
He laid a crumpled twenty pound note - his last one - on the bar and smoothed it out.
Tuesday, 2 August 2016
Trying
"You're doing it wrong."
His dad always said this to him no matter what he did. He wondered why he even bothered trying to impress him any more.
He tried again.
"You're still doing it wrong. Bloody hell."
He started to cry.
"Oh don't fucking cry. You're seven years old. You should be past that now."
The crying continued.
His father turned and left the room. The boy ran out after him and pushed him down the stairs. He definitely did that right.
His dad always said this to him no matter what he did. He wondered why he even bothered trying to impress him any more.
He tried again.
"You're still doing it wrong. Bloody hell."
He started to cry.
"Oh don't fucking cry. You're seven years old. You should be past that now."
The crying continued.
His father turned and left the room. The boy ran out after him and pushed him down the stairs. He definitely did that right.
Monday, 1 August 2016
Text
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he took it out.
It was another text message he didn't want. Some advert or other. He didn't bother reading it, but the end of the message stood out.
TO STOP RECEIVING THESE MESSAGES REPLY WITH 'STOP'.
He received twenty or so of these messages every day. Stopping them would be a fantastic idea.
He followed the instruction and sent his message.
Within seconds his phone was vibrating madly. There were more and more texts from various companies. New ones were arriving faster than he could delete them.
His phone rang. It was a number he didn't recognise, but he answered anyway.
"Hello?"
A message was playing. Something about a pension. He hung up. It rang again immediately. It continued to vibrate as text after text arrived. He turned the phone off and slid it back into his pocket.
A homeless man staggered towards him with a can of strong lager in his hand. As he drew level he took a swig from the can and stared at him.
"You'll never stop them," he slurred and staggered off.
It was another text message he didn't want. Some advert or other. He didn't bother reading it, but the end of the message stood out.
TO STOP RECEIVING THESE MESSAGES REPLY WITH 'STOP'.
He received twenty or so of these messages every day. Stopping them would be a fantastic idea.
He followed the instruction and sent his message.
Within seconds his phone was vibrating madly. There were more and more texts from various companies. New ones were arriving faster than he could delete them.
His phone rang. It was a number he didn't recognise, but he answered anyway.
"Hello?"
A message was playing. Something about a pension. He hung up. It rang again immediately. It continued to vibrate as text after text arrived. He turned the phone off and slid it back into his pocket.
A homeless man staggered towards him with a can of strong lager in his hand. As he drew level he took a swig from the can and stared at him.
"You'll never stop them," he slurred and staggered off.
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