Archive for July, 2007

An unscientific little pole (sic)

It’s sunny and warm. I do not like sunny and warm. I want more of those floods of down­right bib­lical pro­por­tions please, and for the weather out­side my drab office or bed­room win­dows to resemble deep­est, darkest Octo­ber. You can accuse me of being unseasonal, if you like, but I’ll merely push your ice cream […]

Animal Fables: Whale

Once upon a time, there lived an over­weight whale called Phyl­lis. Of course, nobody told Phyl­lis that she was over­weight. She was already large — what with being a whale and everything — and she had rather a short tem­per too, par­tic­u­larly when she was peck­ish. The last thing you want to do to an […]

A purple shade of sabotage

Up and over and over and out. Diving from flesh I emerged freshly spittle wrecked, chased by creatures con­jured up by the warped reflec­tion of someone I no longer regard or recall, and a someone from whom I would no longer recoil if only I had the strength. But not me, right? Never me, right? I […]

Animal Fables: Squirrel

Once upon a time, there lived a squir­rel called Cyn­thia. Cyn­thia was the most gen­er­ous squir­rel you could ever wish to meet. Indeed, she was gen­er­ous to a fault, and in her case it was a very big fault. Like any squir­rel, most of her day was spent scur­ry­ing around the forest for­aging for nuts. She […]

Another journey by night

Some­how, everything is becom­ing vir­tual ripples, con­cent­ric circles seen in a scene on a screen in black and white. We’re typ­ing frantic­ally, back and forth and back again. Dotting our eyes and cross­ing our tees until our fin­gers over­whelm us and our blurred vis­ion can no longer keep up with our pathetic phys­ic­al­ity. The mind […]

Many happy non-returns

I’m woken by weak morn­ing sun and even weaker mourn­ing tea — are you still drink­ing green? — accom­pan­ied by a slice of mouldy, putrid birth­day cake that oozes and spews ran­cid cream. Freshly knifed, but rot­ting from the inside out because it was left to gather dust for months in pre­par­a­tion for this tender […]

One and one and one

“Take that bloke next door, for instance. That bloke next door … I mean, I don’t object to him. Barely know him, in fact. But you know, it’s just some­thing. Some­thing about him. You get that feel­ing, don’t you? I hear him ham­mer­ing on the wall ’til late, and then when he sees me in […]

And this room in monochrome

Don’t bring a torch. You won’t need it. I have fur­nished us with a single, swinging light which will provide us with quite enough shad­ows to stare each other down and out inside this fea­ture­less room. I have decided, decreed, determ­ined that you can inter­rog­ate me in black and white. It will be a learn­ing process, […]

As surely as the sun rises

I don’t climb the walls when i wake. No, I wait for them to des­cend to my level, so that I can rap my knuckles three times on the ceil­ing, without even stretch­ing, and check that the roof is still present. That doesn’t make sense, how­ever, because last night I slept under a can­opy of […]

Always read the label

You get meth­od­ical. Get your­self a meth­od­o­logy. Packet open. Always read the label. Strip pulled from packet. Read the label again, just to double check. Try and remem­ber. How did you used to do this? You know? Before? The label will say, the label will tell you, the label will keep you coldly informed. So read. […]

Footprints end

Stopped in my tracks by words, by a fan­fare of blasts and horns and cries and the faintest of whis­pers. Syl­lables must, sen­tences must not. Out, damned spot. Out, damned semi-colon. I remem­ber walk­ing through an alley some­where off the North Pole. I’m sure it was the North Pole. There is a road that leads […]

Random notices #5

Random notices #4

Random notices #3

Random notices #2