Monday, 3 February 2014
Gravity by Carolyn Glass
I had never really thought about gravity, well you don’t do you? It’s just there, we’ve never known any different, it’s not something we’re short of on planet earth. When it gradually started to disappear, we didn’t really appreciate what was happening. It was a long time before scientists let us know what was going on; we actually scoffed at the idea, like we had global warming centuries earlier. They don’t really know why it is happening, but we better hope they find out soon, before we all start floating away. It sounds silly but how will the earth work without gravity? What will small animals do? I’m sure some people will have endless fun with it, imagine being able to jump over your house, and there’s bound to be some way for criminals to exploit it. Not much of a legacy for future generations, our parents left us global warming and extreme weather; we’re going to leave no gravity. Perhaps it’s time to evacuate while there is still a population to evacuate.
Gravity by Lesley Whyte
"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation you're in. You can't expect..."
My brain goes spinning off into space. It's a stupid expression, really. What IS the gravity of a situation? I mean, seriously, what does that actually mean? Where does it come from? It's a stupid expression. If we really were in space and there was no gravity, I'd be able to swim away from her super-fast. She'd never catch me. She'd never have managed to get me in her office. I bet I can air-swim a thousand times faster than she can. Of course, I'd have nowhere to go, but still.
She's still talking.
"I'm sorry, what?" I say.
Her lips pinch together. Her eyebrows pinch together. "I think you should probably be paying attention. I mean, you have been arrested for murder."
"I know. And the gravity of the situation is like...super gravity-ish."
My brain goes spinning off into space. It's a stupid expression, really. What IS the gravity of a situation? I mean, seriously, what does that actually mean? Where does it come from? It's a stupid expression. If we really were in space and there was no gravity, I'd be able to swim away from her super-fast. She'd never catch me. She'd never have managed to get me in her office. I bet I can air-swim a thousand times faster than she can. Of course, I'd have nowhere to go, but still.
She's still talking.
"I'm sorry, what?" I say.
Her lips pinch together. Her eyebrows pinch together. "I think you should probably be paying attention. I mean, you have been arrested for murder."
"I know. And the gravity of the situation is like...super gravity-ish."
Memento by Carolyn Glass
It was another one. Just the same as always, abducted, restrained, left to die somewhere and later dumped. But we were sure he would make a mistake soon. The intervals got shorter, the dump sites more public, we were trying to find a link between the victims, or the place he was holding them, but zilch.
As usual it was overconfidence that got him caught. He always took a souvenir, the ring finger of the left hand, complete with rings. All the victims’ families agreed there was at least one ring taken.
A very shaken jeweller tipped us off, he had been offered a ring, and he rang the secret alarm under the counter which got us there in minutes. He said he would not have realised the significance, had he not noticed the guy wresting it from a finger which he then placed back in his pocket.
As usual it was overconfidence that got him caught. He always took a souvenir, the ring finger of the left hand, complete with rings. All the victims’ families agreed there was at least one ring taken.
A very shaken jeweller tipped us off, he had been offered a ring, and he rang the secret alarm under the counter which got us there in minutes. He said he would not have realised the significance, had he not noticed the guy wresting it from a finger which he then placed back in his pocket.
Memento by Lesley Whyte
She left her cellphone in my room. A little souvenir, a memento of our time together. Of course, she didn't just leave it on my nightstand or dresser like a normal person would have done. Oh, no, she had to tape it to the underside of my bed. Where I wouldn't see it. Where I wouldn't even know about it until after the cops found it.
Well played, Cass. Well played.
Well played, Cass. Well played.
Seven by Lesley Whyte
TO DO
1. Shower
2. Eat breakfast
3. Prep garden
4. Kill Arthur
5. Bury Arthur
6. Shower
7. Wine
1. Shower
2. Eat breakfast
3. Prep garden
4. Kill Arthur
5. Bury Arthur
6. Shower
7. Wine
Seven by Carolyn Glass
Having made sampling the seven deadly sins my bucket list, I should have thought about the order more carefully. I think I’ve just about covered gluttony and sloth, trouble is weighing in at 32 stone and being housebound will seriously impede my chances of completing the other 5.
Stoker by Carolyn Glass
I never realised what a dirty job it was. I had always wanted to ride in a steam train, not in the carriages you understand, up front with the driver, wind in my hair type of scenario. So when a mate said his dad could get me a ride on the local Steam Railway, I was mega excited. I was told I needed overalls and sturdy boots, but that was fine, I was fulfilling a long held ambition. So I pitched up on Sunday morning, all smiles and reported to the driver, he thrust a shovel in my hand and said, the coals their (and pointed at a truck behind the engine) get shovelling. I didn’t see a thing the whole trip, I was shovelling the whole time with my head down, I was glad to get off at the end of the journey, I was completely knackered, and black from head to foot! They wouldn’t even let me get in a carriage for the return journey, “how do you think we can make the return journey without a stoker?” They laughed. I’ll bet the last guy is in prison for bashing the drivers head in with a shovel!
Stoker by Lesley Whyte
I walk around and around the dregs of the fire. The heap of ashes are hot, I can feel the heat on my legs from a foot away. They're smouldering gently. I drag the poker behind me, drawing an almost-perfect circle in the black sand. My feet itch and sting, but I have to draw the marks while the ashes are still hot. I can't wait for them to cool. The circle is drawn. I take a breath and then close my eyes as I cross it, my feet sinking into the burning dust. It has to be done. It has to be done. I cross the circle again and again, dragging the poker behind me until a star is drawn in the ash. A pentagram. I stand in the centre and drop the poker. I open my eyes and look up at the starry sky.
And then I wait.
And then I wait.
Friends with Kids by Carolyn Glass
I never realised how much I hated kids, not kids in general, I mean the ones I’m forced to spend time with, because their parents are my friends.
It wasn’t too bad at the start, new babies are pretty quiet, and you can take them to parties and just leave them in the bedroom and check on them now and then.
Then when they get a bit bigger, you can’t really do that anymore, so you end up having to go to places that are “child friendly” or even worse, having to go to their homes because it’s awkward for them to go out because they can’t get a babysitter.
I mean let’s be honest, child friendly just means no place for normal people, and homes with small children or babies are no place for normal people either.
Today was the final straw, I was asked to hold a screaming infant (who needed a nappy change) while his parent sorted out the demented toddler who had just been refused more chocolate. As soon as I got home, I founded a new site on the internet; No parents allowed; a meeting place for sane individuals to seek sanctuary from friends with kids. I’m sure it will be a hit.
It wasn’t too bad at the start, new babies are pretty quiet, and you can take them to parties and just leave them in the bedroom and check on them now and then.
Then when they get a bit bigger, you can’t really do that anymore, so you end up having to go to places that are “child friendly” or even worse, having to go to their homes because it’s awkward for them to go out because they can’t get a babysitter.
I mean let’s be honest, child friendly just means no place for normal people, and homes with small children or babies are no place for normal people either.
Today was the final straw, I was asked to hold a screaming infant (who needed a nappy change) while his parent sorted out the demented toddler who had just been refused more chocolate. As soon as I got home, I founded a new site on the internet; No parents allowed; a meeting place for sane individuals to seek sanctuary from friends with kids. I’m sure it will be a hit.
Monday, 27 January 2014
Friends with Kids by Lesley Whyte
"So, what do we have planned for the weekend?"
"Well, Marcy's boy is having his Christening on Saturday morning, then we're supposed to skip out early to go to lunch with Helen and Joel to celebrate their upcoming bundle of joy. Saturday afternoon, we have to go buy a gift for Lena, and we'll have to spend a lot of money because her college friend is getting her the pushchair. You know, the one I showed you online? They don't even talk anymore. We're going to have to really step up our game. I was Googling for ideas all day, but I've got nothing. Anyway, it's her co-ed baby shower on Saturday evening, so we both get to go. Which is kind of nice, actually, and it means we only have to give one gift, unlike at Sarah's shower, when she and Ethan expected separate gifts at their stupid separate parties. And then there's Sunday, which is just-"
"You want to go away this weekend?"
"We can't. People are expecting-"
"So tell them I surprised you. Blame me, I don't care."
"I...really?"
"Yeah. I'm thinking somewhere with a beach that serves cocktails."
"Well, Marcy's boy is having his Christening on Saturday morning, then we're supposed to skip out early to go to lunch with Helen and Joel to celebrate their upcoming bundle of joy. Saturday afternoon, we have to go buy a gift for Lena, and we'll have to spend a lot of money because her college friend is getting her the pushchair. You know, the one I showed you online? They don't even talk anymore. We're going to have to really step up our game. I was Googling for ideas all day, but I've got nothing. Anyway, it's her co-ed baby shower on Saturday evening, so we both get to go. Which is kind of nice, actually, and it means we only have to give one gift, unlike at Sarah's shower, when she and Ethan expected separate gifts at their stupid separate parties. And then there's Sunday, which is just-"
"You want to go away this weekend?"
"We can't. People are expecting-"
"So tell them I surprised you. Blame me, I don't care."
"I...really?"
"Yeah. I'm thinking somewhere with a beach that serves cocktails."
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