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Firing Squad

28/5/2016

Someone came for him just before midday. Alone in that small room, he’d been left to wonder what awaited him in the next world; now he would find out. He allowed himself to be led, petrified, inwardly screaming, towards his fate.

Passing through the doorway into the blinding light, he could just make out five silhouettes facing him. He prayed that his bladder wouldn’t let him down, but at least it would all be over quickly.

For some reason he was actually asked if he was ready. He nodded.

“Tell me, Mr Conover, what made you apply for this position?”

The Red Telephone Box

28/5/2016

The authorities simply didn’t understand; they never listen. The villagers said that without its traditional bright-red telephone kiosk, the village would slowly die off. But the authorities knew better, of course.

Everyone who’d ever lived in the village knew that the village population multiplied in that red phonebox. Couples wanting a child simply visited the box together and emerged ten minutes later with a newborn babe; normal village sex was purely for pleasure.

So, when the authorities replaced that old red phone box with a brand new shiny silver one, the village slowly died. But the authorities always know best.

A Summer Walk

21/5/2016

It had been their first chance to wander in the hills since the children had left; on that glorious summer’s day, their was route utterly deserted. After sharing a light lunch, they skinny-dipped in the adjacent loch, the temptation to act like teenagers proving too strong. Later, as they lay naked to dry out, she checked all around to be sure, then smiled at him. They made love slowly, each taking turns to enjoy the hot sun on their backs. Beautiful.

Beautiful, that is, until they realised painfully, and in almost unimaginable places, how close they were to an ant-hill.

A Love Story From The Amazon Jungle

20/5/2016

“Pass me a few salad leaves, will you dear?”

“You’re such a sloth”, she replied, but reached over nonetheless and did so anyway. Slowly, however.

“Me? Slothful? That’s rich coming from you,” he said. “But that’s why I love you, I suppose.”

They ate in silence for some while, then out of nowhere she said, “My friend Betty has been trying to include a couple of grasshoppers each day in her diet. It’s a super-food, you know.”

He said nothing for ten minutes, then said, “Really?”

Eventually she said, “You know, Norman, this is the life.”

Norman was asleep, however.

It Was 50 Years Ago Today, Sergeant Pepper Taught The Band To Play

17/5/2016

Manchester Free Trade Hall; Tuesday 17th May 2016.

Bob Dylan emerges with an electric backing band. The crowd stirs. Dylan drawls, “Fifty years ago today, when I was here last, someone called me ‘Judas’. Unbelievable. Lies. Never discovered who shouted it either.”

Suddenly, a man – I think his name is Spartacus – leaps up and shouts “I shouted Judas!”. Then another stands and shouts “No! I shouted Judas!” then another, then another until the entire audience is on its feet yelling.

Dylan’s ready. Turning to the band, he yells, “Play it loud!” and they launch, deafeningly, into ‘Like A Rolling Stone’.

What If? – An Imaginery Presidential Dinner (May 2017)

6/5/2016

..See, you wouldn’t believe me, but I was right. So I wanna thank all my voters for realising that I’ve got billions of dollars to spend and that I’m always right. Don’t you wanna President that’s always right? And let’s be honest, those previous guys weren’t right for the White House – I mean, listen to its name... Once again I wanna thank all those people who voted for me, especially the women. I love women, especially ones that look great and keep their mouths shut.

...Hey, you guys heard the one about the prostitoot, the Muslim and the Mexican? Well...

Election Fever

6/5/2016

As usual, voters in Neptunian elections revelled in the rough and tumble of the 2016 Imperial Election. Candidates’ debates were like murderous cage-fights; each aspiring politician strove to sink to the highest levels of insult. “Lyin’ Bellog” claimed “Philanderin’ Prullit’s” wife was so ugly she could be used as a war weapon, Prullit said Bellog’s wife was a whore and a Jupiter spy. Each promised to turn the other’s children into hamburgers. In the end, no election was actually held: the last two candidates killed each other off.

Meanwhile, nearby Plutonians shook their heads in despair and drank more tea.

Firing Squad

The Red Telephone Box

A Summer Walk

A Love Story From The Amazon Jungle

It Was 50 Years Ago Today, Sergeant Pepper Taught The Band To Play

What If? – An Imaginery Presidential Dinner (May 2017)

Election Fever

Flash Fiction

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