Adventures in Everyday Madness Continuing
Beyond his window was winter. It had finally arrived. A long-awaited smile cracked beneath the surface of his leathered skin. He inhaled the cold air that had perpetrated beyond the pane of glass...at Last. "So, you have returned to me." The empty world gave no response. He watched the frozen landscape, and the moon, impaled... Continue Reading →
"You should take a long look at yourself in the mirror," anybody could have said. It could be a case of: not completely liking what you see, liking it a little to much, or not even recognising that the thing in front of you is actually you. There are times when I look deeply into... Continue Reading →
The problem with tragedy is that it never has a happy ending. Tragedy ends in death. It starts with a bad decision, leads on to disgrace and downfall, scrapes you through a period of suffering that appears never likely to end before there is a realisation, ‘Fuck, that’s what I did wrong’ or, ‘Fuck, I... Continue Reading →
Out of the frying pan and into the weekend. I have always thought that the working week has been organised by somebody who doesn't read the label; Fragile, This way up! So, after a reasonably long working week, we get two days off to celebrate, relax, commiserate and fret. Weekends are the product of... Continue Reading →
The last week, thinking about tragedy, I have had chance to sit back and look at myself. The Wheel of Fortune has turned almost fully and I am back where it all began; teaching in further education. As my coffee cools enough for me to drink it, the cat rubs herself against my shins. She... Continue Reading →
God wishes men to make love to their wives regularly. It's a duty, a religious observance, so why block the bedroom door? For men of independence, it is every day. For labourers, it is twice a week. For donkey drivers, once a week. For camel drivers, it is once every thirty days. For sailors, it... Continue Reading →
She stops and nods at some of the patients come to stand around and stare out of eyes all red and puffy with sleep. She nods once to each. Precise, automatic gesture. Her face is smooth, calculated, and precision-made, like an expensive baby doll, skin like flesh-coloured enamel, blend of white and cream and baby-blue... Continue Reading →
There is something unnervingly hypnotic about a psychopath. The eyes have it. They stride into ours and rearrange what we think is normality. In some ways it's akin to having a change of internal scenery with the sofa inhabiting a different area of the room whilst the armchairs are perfectly placed on the ceiling.... Continue Reading →
Subject A woke up in the middle of darkness and felt for the glass of water at the side of his bed. He found it just as his fingers decided to add some urgency to their search. The resulting action was a slow, slow-motion tipping of the glass and its contents off the bedside table... Continue Reading →
