It all happens around the corner

He wasn't breathing.


Did you touch him?

It was cold.



She looked down examining the worn, chipped edges of the table. With her left hand she slowly traced an old dried coffee stain with the tip of her ruby red finger nail. Looking up slightly, her large blue eyes followed the outline of his strong, clean shaven jaw and up towards his pulsating temples. His slick blond hair looked out of place over his dark beady eyes. Pearls of sweat glinted on his forehead.
They sat in silence.
He attempted to get some sort of story, he needed to know what had happened. At this very moment, she was the only witness. He had to hear the truth before the police caught her and beat some lie out of her. Yet, her eyes were blank. No fear, remorse or regret. Not even any joy. Nothing. She stared blankly at him as if waiting for a stagehand to remind her of what her memory had blocked out.

Mykanea (a snippet from the full story)

With his eyes fixed on the body, the ‘to do’ list rolled off his tongue as if he gave this speech frequently yet this was his first murder case. Deaths, accidents or attacks were generally due to technical disagreements or experiment malfunctions, but easily resolved. As he stared at Dr Karn’s body there was something that stiffened his muscles as the pit of his bowels became an explosion of emotions he never even knew existed. The city had become, within a few hours, unsafe. A claustrophobic panic swept over him as he followed Micha out of Karn's office and watched as she shuttled herself to the conference room.

Incase you didn't know me

In the cold month of December long long ago, before wifi and swine flu, a baby girl was born.
Whilst her parents corrupted her with education, vegetables and rock’n’roll music, her older siblings, on the other hand, convinced her that meat tasted like bubble gum, ‘because I’m older than you’ is the ultimate answer to everything, yetis do exist, and that you always blame the brother or sister that isn’t present.

irksomisms

There are an impressive amount of things that irk me all the time, frankly there are probably only 3 things that don't irk me ever. In the top 5 of my list there is a group of seemingly ordinary people. Los Smellitoes. I really don't like them. Not many people do, and I don't mind if there are smellitoes far away from me. FAR, far away. But it is those who insist on taking public transport and sharing their smellitoastiness with other people. Its not exotic. We dont want to know specifically what brand of whiskey you were drinking 10 minutes ago or that clothes can survive under the pressure of uber smellimoasity over a period of 10 years. I demand there be smellito-meters placed at the entrance of every bus. In the meantime, whilst I wait for the public transport folk to develop this system, please please please: if you smell worse than a dead pig stuck in a fence then today is a good day for walking or bathing.

Once upon a disappointment

I have travelled from afar to come for you my love. I gave the orders to my crew and set sail across the deepest oceans in my emerald crystal cruiser and flew over the highest peaks in my sterling silver concord. I waited a full 2 minutes longer for my non-fat soya milk mocha frappacoffee thing and walked the excruciating 10 steps to the diamond encrusted elevator that led me past your wardrobe sized guards in front of your jaguar protected chamber. Princess, all this I did for you my love.