Space travel is a perilous adventure. Asteroids, Space dust, cosmic rays can all clog filters or knock you out of orbit, hurtling you towards the nearest sun. So imagine my surprise when on holiday I found myself cruising towards the pleasure planet of Sol550 and happened to see a fighter class frigate half-way between aContinue reading “Space Travel”
Tag Archives: short story
Notwithstanding, I will continue
********************************* *******Warning: Adult Themes******* ********************************* Scene: Aboard a Steam riverboat cruiser ‘Miss Dolly’ USA, 1910. ‘Not as I am accustomed to public speakaling I will do my uppity to continue in the style I have become accustomed’ said the compare, putting on what he hoped was his cheeriest sounding voice. ‘It is with a great senseContinue reading “Notwithstanding, I will continue”
Mr SnodGrass
Mr Snodgrass was a punk and a caretaker at St Cuthberts School, Daventry. He listened to all the pop punk bands and wore his hair in spikes died grey down the middle. In his nose he wore a silver nose ring His ears were a pincushion of stones and platinum and silver In his lipContinue reading “Mr SnodGrass”
Mr Pianoface
There was once a clunky town. In that town lived Mr Brown. He lived in a clunky house had a clunky wife and two clunky children. He drank his tea from a clunky mug and when he looked into the mirror he saw a reflection of his clunky features. His eyes was uneven and clunky.Continue reading “Mr Pianoface”
Low Fat Peregrine Margarine
Love, control, incest Love, control, incest Bees pour down on me from their honeyed home Annoyed because I poked his hive, tongue-tied, now dying alive. Love, control, incest, sting, sting, sting Give me support, give me support take my legs from under me and attach me to a star, so I can swing merrily along. TakeContinue reading “Low Fat Peregrine Margarine”
Death On the Moor Chapter 3
Smelling bad and festering with yellow maggots and pus in the jellyfied state is how I imagine briefly Myra would look on her deathbed, laid flat on a mortuary slab in an old building with peeling paintwork. I was there looking at her while someone held a clipboard. Then I was thinking about my poster onContinue reading “Death On the Moor Chapter 3”
Death On the Moor Chapter 2
The keys on my keyboard are full of magic. They should believe in themselves! It’s Christmas again and the movies are playing on television as the big day looms ever closer. Hams and Turkeys are flying off the shelves at supermarkets up and down the country. Dads are stocking up on beer and candles andContinue reading “Death On the Moor Chapter 2”
Death On the Moor Chapter 1
I’m scared of polyphony. I mean real orchestral stuff in forte or fortissimo. It’s the connection’s of it. It’s connected to my head to my heart, to my body, my soul and I was stupid enough to invite it into my room. I know what I mean and it’s only because I am broken rejected and annoyedContinue reading “Death On the Moor Chapter 1”
12 Hours to Go -Story 2
I am a royal pussy cat and I must learn how to drive the number 24 bus to fulfil the ancient prophecy of ‘Every Dog Has Its Day’. Mmm, that mouse was tasty. I liked the way its juicy insides tasted in my mouth and provided a culinary counterpoint to the fine crunch of its bones,Continue reading “12 Hours to Go -Story 2”
12 Hours to Go
12 Noon. I have 12 hours to live and in that time I need to fall in love to fulfill some ancient prophecy of the world about condom wearing penguins taking over Ice Station Zebra and beginning a Green Carbon Free revolution. So I go hang out at a bar I know for an hour.Continue reading “12 Hours to Go”
I'm bilaterally deaf, schizophrenic, autistic, talented individual. I can see you thinking...What was his day job? Well, I am a qualified systems engineer and i worked in computers. To be honest I can't remember what I wrote in my bio which I deleted. I write I draw, It is my goal in life to be anything but facsimilia. I believe life is duodecimal, you live you die, dark. Some call this depression and indeed I am a depressive schizophrenic. To be something is a great thing-some call it drosophilae syndrome(to be studied), a term I coined myself. As I appreciate in words as I get older sometimes it helps to remember what it was like being a child with drosophilae syndrome where the other is to be seen. This is why I draw and write. 