Rodeo Drive by Alison Wink

‘So, what colour’s this then?’

‘Rodeo Drive.’

‘Do what, mate?’

‘S’Rodeo Drive, innit.’

‘And what colour’s that when it’s at home?’

‘A sort of lilac mauve light purple.’

‘Rodeo Drive! Utter bollocks.’

Champagne by Alison Wink

‘Champagne, Madam? No? A soft drink, perhaps? Or something hot - tea, coffee? Ah, I understand - Madam is not thirsty, but would be interested in something a little more hard-hitting. If you would allow me to fetch our drugs menu, I will send our sommelier over to assist with your choice. Thank you.’

‘Good evening, Madam. Would you like an upper or a downer this evening? A euphoric? Then, may I suggest Ecstasy? No? Ah, Columbian Cocaine – very lightly cut with corn starch. A very good choice if I may say so.’

Luna Landscape by Alison Wink

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘But there’s absolutely no way you are submitting a science fiction piece with the word ‘luna’ used spelt like that. It’s not spelt correctly if it’s referring to anything to do with the moon. That would be l-u-n-a-r.’

I took in a large breath of air, about to argue my case. I can be forthright too y’know.

‘Unless, of course, it’s for proper nouns. You can call something whatever-the-hell-you-want in that case,’ she intervened before I could respond. ‘If you want to write about Luna the Roman goddess of the moon, you go right ahead.’

‘But, it’s also got to incorporate landscape, so it’s got to have something to do with the moon. A goddess can’t have a landscape can she?’ I argued, feebly. I knew I was going to lose, but I had to make some effort at maintaining artistic control over my piece.

‘Come on. I’m a writer, an alchemist of words. I can make them do anything I want, and that including misspelling a word. That’s the joy of being a creative writer, don’t you see?’

‘Not on my watch you don’t.’

I was getting desperate now. I’d written the bloody thing. Was I going to have to write another piece, just because some stupid name inventor at Dulux or Crown or whoever, had left the flipping ‘r’ out? I know it’s only a short story, but still it’s taking up time I should be spending on my Creative Visions piece that still doesn’t want to be finished.

I made one last attempt although I knew my argument was feeble. ‘It says in Wikipedia that the Soviet lunar space-probe was called ‘Luna’ so they must have been happy with the spelling.’

‘Wikipedia? Really? Anyway that’s a proper noun. I told you proper nouns are okay. And the Russian’s use the cyrillic alphabet so we don’t know how they actually spell, do we? It’s no good arguing. My word is final, I’m afraid.’

I know when I’m beaten. It’s back to the metaphorical drawing board for me.

‘Luna, the luminous goddess of the moon gazed as far as her eye could see over the landscape...’

Fireside by Alison Wink

‘Come,’ he beckoned her, ‘Sit with me by the fireside. You are only wearing a thin dress. You must be freezing.’

She moved a little closer. She was shy, but she felt safe. He was a priest after all, a man of the cloth so his motives could only be good.

Velvet Ribbon by Alison Wink

All the fairies had been duly summoned to the baptism. Thank heaven. There would be no deeply offended ethereal sprite ready to wreak revenge all for the sake of a carelessly forgotten invitation. They had all brought suitably celestial blessings to bestow on the much wanted girl child, Esmeralda. She was lavished with the ability to acquire great wealth, extraordinary beauty, modesty, kindness, a happy sunny nature and the ability to make everyone who saw her fall in love with her. The youngest fairy, who knew she would be last in line, wanted to grant a legacy no one else would have thought of and produced her gift with a flourish.

‘With this roll of velvet ribbon, Esmeralda will be able to bend everyone to her will. She need only tie a piece of the ribbon to the body of any living being and she will earn their complete submission.’

* * *

Esmeralda fingered the red velvet ribbon and pondered the magical gifts that had shaped her life. Once her parents had been dethroned and banished from their kingdom, penniless, she was forced to earn her own living.

Blessed with her extraordinary beauty and business brain, Esmeralda started her own business. She ran it with radiant good humour, managing to nurture relationships with both her employees and clients with the result that everyone adored her. It was an extremely successful venture although, of course, she’d have been the last to acknowledge how well she was doing. But she knew it was thanks to the roll of velvet ribbon that she had regained such a high and powerful status in society. Because, as the successful owner of worldwide dominatrix business, Strapped, she pretty much held the upper echelons of society in the palm of her hands.

High Society by Alison Wink

As she skipped out of the offie clutching a plastic carrier bag containing cans of Tennents Extra and White Lightening, Stacey hoped it was going to be a good night. Party at Jack’s– his mum was away for the weekend and it was always a good venue. His house is far enough away from any neighbours so they could make as much noise as they liked, and it was nice not to get hassled. She hated the thought of waking up someone’s baby. She knew how difficult it could be to get them back to sleep.

Stacey was bringing the booze and although she’d wanted to get something a bit more classy - she likely Smirnoff Ice - she couldn’t afford to buy too many. Tonight she was determined to get wasted, it had been a difficult week. Her mate, Amelia ... well, she said she could get hold of something a bit more exciting.

Stacey needed cheering up. She’d submitted her umpteenth job application today, and she didn’t hold out much hope. She knew she’d be lucky if she even got a rejection letter. Usually she heard nothing which was cruel really because it meant her hope held out for weeks. For the first time in ages her mum was able to babysit and, ever the optimist, Stacey was sure it was going to be a good night - she’d make sure she’d forget all her problems.

* * *

Daily Outraged Middle England
Unemployed mother-of-one Stacey Kelly, 21, from a rough old Nottingham housing estate dies after using legal high GBL, a Class C drug. The ‘legal high’ can damage the kidneys, liver and stomach lining and lead to psychosis.

A young woman and two young men were found unconscious at the address and were taken to hospital for emergency treatment. Police are investigating claims the friends may have taken the deadly dance club drug GBL an industrial cleaner usually used in cleaning products, solvents and paints. It is not illegal to buy GBL for cleaning use, but it is classed as a Class C drug if sold for consumption.