Blog Posts

A Total Failure

1/9/2017

A total failure at school, he'd turned to petty crime – housebreaking, drugs, cars, nothing violent – and employment had been hard to find. Then someone evil radicalised him, promised him purpose in life and eternal paradise.

He was given instructions for the bomb: some basic chemicals, a large bag of nails and a cheap pay-as-you-go mobile. Set it to explode at the exit as the crowd left the football match that night; plant it just after they'd all gone in.

The bomb blew him up at precisely 20.00 hours. At school, he'd never really got to grips with the 24-hour clock.

Doing It Together

25/8/2017

As Darcy approached, Lizzie tensed: it was bigger than she'd expected. But he had another surprise for her.

"I need help, I've never done this before," he confessed, fumbling for the spot.

"Let me guide you," Lizzie said. She took his hand. "There. That's the place," she reassured him. "But relax, it's not a disaster if it goes wrong."

She leaned back against the wall for purchase. Soon, she felt a judder.

Darcy smiled, but looked at her anxiously. "OK?"

"Perfect," Lizzie said. "One hole drilled, 15 to go. We'll have this IKEA wall cabinet up before you know it."

Believe It Or Not

18/8/2017

A late substitute in the light of Barcelona yesterday – and elsewhere.

Let me tell you a story, the old woman said.

Once upon a time, the world's rulers realised that they needed to work to avoid war at all cost. Once, rich people understood that it was good to help poor people everywhere. Once, there were drugs to fight almost every infectious disease. Once, there was ice at both the North and South Pole. Once, people from poor countries weren't so desperate that they crossed dangerous seas to escape. Once, you could walk down busy city streets without fear of terrorist attack.

Don't believe me? Well, it was only a story.

Breakfast Table Talk

11/8/2017

Image: Nic Simpson

Elsa sat at the breakfast table, reading.

"You know, Albert, it says here that treating leukaemia with crushed orange pips and Marmite improves 5-year survival rates by 35%."

"Huh?"

"It's by your old colleague Professor Katie Hopkins. It must be true."

"Her?" grunted Einstein. "⨍(∜(e=mc2) + 2ab + ⫒5y)"

"Now dear, just because she has a column in the Daily Star, there's no need to swear. More tea?" Albert passed his cup. "You're behaving like a baby," she added.

Einstein grinned.

"You're totally obsessed with this relativity stuff," Elsa said sharply. "Look at the mess time-travel has got us into."

Dinner With The Hendersons

4/8/2017

We'd been anticipating the Hendersons' dinner party for days.

"You'll get the chance to enjoy your neighbours the Walkers," said Mary Henderson. We looked forward to meeting people from our quiet cul-de-sac.

That evening, Dan ushered us in. "Come! The Walkers are in the dining room."

We'd expected two others, but Jane and I were the only guests. Our meal was heavily meat-based – a terrine, then a tasty pie. Eventually I said, "I'd understood our neighbours would be here?"

"They were," Dan said. "On the table. The Davidsons' are coming tomorrow."

Jane and I shivered. We heard the lock turn.

A Step Too Far

28/7/2017

The Invisible Man

21/7/2017

Once it became clear that no one read his books, followed his blogs, and that his social media following was zero, Jake realised that, in the eyes of the world, he truly did not exist. At first he was despondent, then soon, as he passed unnoticed through crowds, he realised that invisibility brought great powers.

It took courage at first to stand in public places holding a sign that said, "Hit me." But no one saw him. Stealing Rolex watches also went unobserved.

Eventually the time came to try carrying a gun and firing it randomly. They noticed him then.

Not Now My Love

14/7/2017

"Not now, my love."

She had her back to him. His gentle fingers stretched out towards her and stroked her neck, working their way down as far as they could reach.

"Not now, my love."

He withdrew his hand. But not for long; soon, she felt the hand caress her head, her neck, her shoulders. She liked his touch, but...

"Not now my love."

Once more he desisted. But temptation was to prove too strong. Reaching out again, he tickled her neck gently. This time...

"Not now my love. I'm driving. It's dangerous. Sit back in your seat."

"Sorry, mummy."

21st Century Marketing

7/7/2017

Dedicated to Waitrose. Oops.

Keen to make an impression as head of marketing at Lemmings Superstores, Mike Maxwell decided that he should lead a sales drive to coincide with the end of the school session. He ordered that each branch should devote a large display of wine, chocolates, bath salts and flowers. Beside it he had signs displayed:

In no time, the sign had been snapped on iPhones across the country and went viral. Maxwell resisted all calls to take them down until the national press had picked up on it, too.

Sales went through the roof that month. Mission accomplished.

NB – "Gift's For Teacher's" count as three of the words in the story. Total word count usual 100..

Wipeout's Last Stand

30/6/2017

The Brilliant British Menu

23/6/2017

At The Senate Hearing

16/6/2017

"It's good of you to come here and agree to testify under oath, Mr President."

"No problem."

"Raise your right hand please."

The President's right hand formed its all-too-familiar gesture, then he stretched out "I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God!!!" to almost 30 seconds, throwing in a promise to build a wall between the Senate and the House for good measure.

By the time he'd given his name, occupation, and full address including zip code, his testimony had ended. It was a Friday, after all – 100 words maximum.

It's The Hope That Kills You

9/6/2017

This photograph taken this morning outside my polling station – a church hall – had a profound effect on me.

As voting closed in the General Election, the TV studio pundits suddenly burst into life. Now, they could share the sensational first exit polls: a swing to both major parties, the Conservatives and Labour. Each party had 60% of the vote.

The news astounded and excited Professor John Butler. Most stunningly, the #TryPraying Party vote had collapsed completely. The pundits speculated that support for #TryPraying had suffered badly after Brexit and the election of Donald Trump. Voters felt let down by its leader.

Of course as Butler pointed out repeatedly, it was only an exit poll. It could be wrong.

On A Clear Day You Can See For Ever

2/6/2017

On the day the US pulled out of the Paris Climate Accord.

The Brash New Blond-Haired Kid

2/6/2017

Inside The Mind Of Evil

26/5/2017

In the week of the bombing of a Manchester pop concert attended mainly by teenage girls.

I am surrounded by filth, the unclean, the dregs, the unbelievers. I am surrounded by animals who, if left unculled, will live to breed and spread their dirt and endless wickedness. I am surrounded by perverts, liars and whores.

My duty is to cleanse. My duty is to bleach, to wipe the filthy animal presence from the Earth before it can do even more harm. I have come to disinfect.

I shall not fail. I shall be remembered for my courage, for my commitment to the one true faith, for my devotion to the highest cause.

My hour has come.

Life And Death In The Night Sky

19/5/2017

The owl floated across the fields, between the trees, searching for anything that would feed his newborn chicks. The rain had ceased and he could hear easily; he would also be aided as voles and mice looked for food after the storm.

His eyes took in the landscape, but as he flew he turned his head, scanning for something juicy with his ears and that large facial disc.

Suddenly he heard a decent-sized field vole move below. Three silent beats later, he had another snack for the brood to fight over. The vole wouldn’t have to worry about food again.

A Shaggy Dog Story

12/5/2017

A dog drops into a pub, approaches the bar and gives a deep bow.

"Wow," says the dog, "this place has changed! Big improvement."

"Thanks. We don't get many dogs here these days," the barman says. "What can I get you?"

"A salty dog, please."

"Sure," says the barman. He fixes the cocktail. "You look a little off colour – are you OK?"

"Feeling a bit rough, actually."

"Sorry to hear that," says the barman, pushing the cocktail towards the dog. "That'll be £8.00."

"What?? That's much more than I'd expected."

"Sorry," says the barman, "prices have gone through the woof."

Martha, In The Fading Light

5/5/2017

Martha found it hard to move her head now. She could hear voices, was sure that Lindsey and Mark were both there. Someone – Lindsey, she hoped – was holding her hand. From time to time a face appeared above her: sideways on, talking too loudly. Calling to her: "Mrs Barclay."

Martha could barely make anything out in the room; the lights were brighter now but the shadows were dimmer. Perhaps her eyes weren't fully open. She felt no pain. She wanted to tell Lindsey and Mark that she loved them, but the words wouldn't come.

Exhausted, she closed her eyes again.

Seconds To Midnight

28/4/2017

In Earth's final hours, a Saviour appeared: an ordinary woman who could do one extraordinary thing: listen. She listened to everyone, the poor, the weary, the sick, the desperate; she listened to everyone.

She heard answers in their own voices: the way to salvation from poverty, sickness, ignorance, and desperation. Most immediately, from destroying the planet.

"Blasphemy!" cried the Christian.

"Blasphemy!" cried the Jew, the Hindu, the Muslim, and the Buddhist.

"Kill her!" they all cried, even those of no religion. It just seemed easier.

They killed her, then fought amongst themselves. They were still fighting when the lights went

The Tree

21/4/2017

It began as a fluttering seed that fell, unnoticed to the ground. A bird had digested it, and the boost to its fertility had it up and running in no time: eighteen inches in the first year, four feet by the second, seven feet by the third.

But its roots were growing at a much faster rate. In the first year they shot down over 30 feet, then still further in exponential leaps in subsequent years. Nobody noticed, of course, it was all happening out of sight.

The tree eventually popped up in the centre of Sydney. With an earthquake.

In A War Zone

14/4/2017

Image: Frank McGrail

The school's misfortune was to occupy a key strategic position, and government forces and rebels alike felt it necessary to shell it to smithereens. Fortunately, everyone escaped.

Everyone except Effie Frogspawn. Too preoccupied reading her Sunday Post and Weekly News – the school's librarian never read books – she'd yet to notice the mayhem around her. Only when a mortar hit the Girls' Toilet directly underneath did she finally appreciate her danger. By that time she was airborne.

Miraculously, she suffered only minor injuries. Still clutching her two newspapers, she found a nearby park bench and continued reading where she'd left off.

The building where I worked for almost 30 years – yes, that was a school – is currently being demolished. The Sunday Post and the Weekly News are two of Scotland's more widely-read news publications; they're not so widely respected for their journalism. Those connected with the Portobello High School in the 1970s and early 1980s will recognise the character.

As far as I know there is currently no civil war in Edinburgh.

Caroline

7/4/2017

This is essentially my recollection of a true event.

The young woman greeted me cheerfully in the corridor.

"Will you marry me?"

"Marry you?"

"Go on, it's the 29th February. I can do the proposing."

"Interesting idea, Caroline. I really like you, but there are difficulties..."

She smiled innocently. "Such as?"

"Well... for a start, I'm your teacher. You're fourteen, I'm a bit older. And I'm already spoken for – I've been married for 30 years."

"Nonsense," she said. "Love will out."

I chuckled. "Caroline, one day you'll make some man very happy." Everyone knew that half of the third year boys had experienced a little of Caroline's 'happiness' already.

The Prisoner

31/3/2017

He'd been warned.

He was punched repeatedly for what seemed like ages – but was probably only 15 minutes – then thrown into a pit to recover.

He was allowed just two hours' respite. Then, he was beaten yet again, before being rammed into a metal straight-jacket and thrown into a cell with a reinforced glass window.

But the cell was warm. He could grow, strong enough to be a match for any warder. He heard footsteps – now was his chance – the cell door opened –

FREE!!!

He looked about and saw... the warder approaching with a knife.

"Yum... I love fresh bread..."

The Letter

29/3/2017

At precisely 10.00 am on 29th March 2017, the Prime Minister of Pluto arrived in person on Earth to deliver 'The Letter' triggering Article 27987645/B/1: Pluto was announcing its intention to become an asteroid and leave the Solar System.

The Head of the Solar Systemic Commission looked bemused: "There musht be shum mishtake," he said in broken English. "Pluto wash kicked out of the Sholar Shyshtem back in 2006. You've no right to leave."

The Plutonian Premier was furious. "You've no right to stop us from leaving!" she said, snatching The Letter back. "We Plutonians must hold a referendum about this!"

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