Block

Wrote this quite a while ago. Like the idea but not sure I like what I’ve written.

Please have at it with sticks.

Pointy ones.

*

I push the button and wait for the chaos. Two shapes dart past the frosted glass of the front door. The gate buzzes, releases and swings open. I have just enough time to close it and turn around before I’m enveloped in a three way maelstrom of children and dog.

“Daddy! DADDEEEEEE!”

I fend off the dog with one hand, low five my son with the other and shuffle forward bearing the weight of a three year old blonde haired limpet on my right leg. She slides off me just before the steps.

“Yucch Daddy! Why are you all sweaty?” Her nose wrinkles.

“I’ve been running my love, that’s what happens.”

She gives me a serious look and then starts laughing. “StinkEEE Daddy!” She runs inside yelling and giggling.

Continue reading

Trabbling The Crystal Maze

I’m in a room with mismatched curtains, wooden floors and freshly painted skirting boards. There’s nothing here except for a computer and an office chair on a rug that’s rucked up around the edges. I can’t see what to do…

“Come out! Come out!” screams a voice in my head and then I remember this is real life and not the fucking Crystal Maze and neither Ed Tudor-Pole nor Richard O’Brien can save me however much I beg, plead or wheedle.

Besides, it’s an automatic lock in.

Continue reading

Cape Town 5AM

The sky colours in the dark with pink and orange fingers.

Birds chatter their approval in myriad voices growing bolder with each passing minute. Guinea fowl screech from the rooftops, setting the dogs to lend their rumbling bass to the chorus greeting the dawn.

Continue reading

The Lost Sense Of (Be)Longing

Going home or, more accurately, travelling from your home to a place you used to call home years ago drowns you in familiar dislocation. Perhaps it’s the lack of sleep or the fact that these journeys so often start in the soft hours before dawn that heightens our sensitivity to the weird. Either way, you feel like an interloper in a land where time, unlike your memories, has ticked on.

Bypasses plough their economically booming furrow through the land. New buildings thrive in the displaced earth on either side. That’s what it said on the slideware so it must be true, right? I wonder what happens when there’s nothing left to bypass.

Didn’t so and so used to live there? Next to the roundabout? Wait…was there a roundabout there before?

Continue reading

Epitaph – A Drabble

“It’s time,” she said and in we stumbled like lambs bleating in the slaughtered air. Any lingering hopes that he would be granted some final serenity or peace dashed in a maelstrom of tortured angles and the sweat-soaked rictus of a face that has been long lost to madness.

“Is it…?”

“No. Not blood. Not exactly.”

Continue reading

On A Scale Of One To Kill Me Now

“Ah, come in Mark. Grab a chair. Thanks for making the time for this, I know how busy it gets.”

And so the small talk begins. Spare me the camaraderie. We are not the same. I bet if I poked a knife through your cardigan your blood would be yellow. Let’s be crystal clear; the only reason I’m only going through with this farce is the vague and likely misguided hope that it’ll nett me a slightly under inflation pay rise. Why is he staring…oh I suppose he wants me to speak…

“No problem Malcolm. I’m sure you’re busy as well.” Busy doing fuck all of any actual value.

“I’ve always got time for my staff Mark…”

Thank you O benevolent leader. I will lay gifts at your feet.

“…my door is always open…”

Except when it’s shut so you can do your fuck-all-of-value safe from the prying eyes and searching ears of us proles eh Malcolm? What’s underneath that jacket you permanently keep on the hook on the back of the door? Is your soul under there Malcolm? Does it mewl softly at you as you create another spreadsheet? Does it slide its soft, lost tendrils into your skull begging you to remember that once upon a time so very long ago you were…oh bollocks I need to speak again. Continue reading

A Relaxing Weekend Away

“We’re only going away for two nights.”

“I know. And we need to eat, and the kids need to eat, and they need to be entertained, and it might be cold in the evenings and…”

“OK. OK. I get it. I’m just saying we ‘re only going away for two nights.”

“And I’m just saying…never mind. Did you pack his little pup for bedtime?”

“Yes. And a spare toy. And her toys.”

“Helmets for their bikes?”

“Yes. And a soccer ball. And a frisbee. And a golf club and some balls. And a cricket set.”

“Did you organise the drinks?”

Continue reading