Let’s go

The Mass was interminable and the priest couldn’t even remember his name. The burial was worse, raining non-stop. And in the pub afterwards, distant relatives sat gawping at her. They were part of Robert’s extended brood from the countryside. Uncouthness clung to them like agricultural muck on your shoes.

            They were the first to leave, most of them with barely a word of commiseration. A middle-aged cousin stopped by her table, as unsure of himself as a ewe before a sheepdog.

            ‘So like, y’ know… he’ll be missed. Good fellow he was… yeah.’

            Missed? By whom? she’d wanted to say. But the ‘whom’ would probably have confused him.

            ‘Time to go home, Mum.’

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See you on the other side

Those were my brother’s last words to me as our phone call ended.  I was quite taken aback.  Was this outbreak really going to be that serious?  Those words haunted me for days.

His letter from his GP had stated to stay in for twelve weeks, shielding they called it.  We would still be able to phone each other, or even use Skype or Zoom, but would that really be enough.

I had not even considered him in the past, when I jetted off around the world for months on end, so why did this feel different.  As the daily death tolls rose, so did my worries.

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Crises – Culinary v COVID

Sue was ostensibly wiping the dining table but in reality discreetly “monitoring” Ravi’s progress in preparing breakfast independently. One last sweep with antiseptic wipes and it would be done.

Final assignment topic Maximising Independence. “Evidence a challenging scenario, choose your own title ” her practice teacher had instructed. 

Caring in the time of Coronavirus.  Challenging enough?  was her unvoiced riposte.  That’s the title she thought. Ravi was the obvious star. 59  years old and before she had become his key-worker  6 months previously, he had never used a kettle or microwave in 40 years living at SeaView Court Supported Living.  Now, look at him.

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Moral Crisis

Ellie reported for work in the intensive care ward of her hospital, a job she loved. One name popped up in the daily briefing. Bile rose in her throat, her hands were shaking. It took all her self-control to calm down.

Bed number 6 was her step-father, a man she loathed, suffering from a breathing problem, at present on high levels of oxygen. Memories raced through her mind of her beautiful confident mother reduced to a mouse-like creature. Years of put downs, how she would never amount to anything as she was too stupid.

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No Words …

It was an extraordinary few weeks to have lived through. The causes have never been fully revealed, although many have subsequently attempted to attribute blame, and no end of conspiracy theories continue to circulate – as though lessons still have not been learned. All I can do is offer an account of the way it seemed to me.

It was in the middle of the Era of Unpleasantness, a time of destruction, disease and self-interest, which had befallen humankind. There were some attempts to mitigate the worst cruelties to people and the natural world but these were often crushed and were never likely to change completely the way things were.

My first inkling was when my books seemed to have turned into blank paper. How very strange, and particularly so when my computer files seemed to be doing the same thing. When I tried to call friends, the phone merely gave out mechanical beeps. Neighbours waved but couldn’t talk. It seemed as though words had gone missing, as though a modern-day Pied Piper had lured them into a mountain-side and trapped them there.

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Mind Virus

It started with a sniffle, and a couple of hours later he noticed he had an earache. By noon his throat was dry; tap-water wouldn’t ease it. The following day all his muscles ached, and he was sure he had a temperature. He went to sleep in the afternoon, feeling like a truck had knocked him down. Next morning, he couldn’t get up. He just lay in bed hot and sticky, feeling like he was buried. The days passed and got worse. He ought to ring 111, but he had no credit on his pay-as-you-go phone.

            As he lay there, his small, bare flat seemed to be shrinking. He’d lived in it ten years, and hadn’t gone out in over twelve months. He knew his mind was bust, and now his body was too. Nothing to be done, he told himself. You’ve been ignored since you came to this country. Still are, man.

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Fortress or Jail

“Oh no!” cried Sally as she stared at her television.  The “Breaking News” bulletin from the Prime Minister was severe.

“STAY INDOORS.” 

She had been following the progress of the invisible enemy, a previously unknown virus that was currently sweeping the country, but she had not expected to be in lockdown. She could feel the panic starting to rise in her chest. 

“YOU MUST STAY INDOORS FOR AT LEAST THREE WEEKS, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, THIS WILL BE REVIEWED AT THE END OF THAT PERIOD.”

Sally went to check her food stocks.  At least her freezer was full and she had quite a few canned goods.  She would be able to survive.

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Desire

She never would have done it normally. It wasn’t in her makeup to do such a thing. So why? Why would a woman of her age do such a thing? She had always had standards, even though she was so lonely that sometimes she wanted to die.

Joan is a plain woman, she has never attracted a man and since the war was now over and the men were returning beaten and broken, she wanted to help. So volunteering at the local hospital seemed a charitable act.

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Crisis

I think the whole world is in crisis at the moment. Humanity is fumbling from one catastrophe to the next. Natural disasters abound from earthquakes and volcanoes erupting to, some say, human set fires that have wiped out most of the indigenous animals of Australia.

Now, we have the coronavirus which is sweeping the world. It astounds me that, the government are setting guidelines to keep people safe. However, we are hearing about people partying and holding barbecues, flouting the safety rules, and all because the weather is unseasonably quite warm.

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Sark

I had a very romantic viewpoint about Sark. It was a place I had always wanted to visit. Being a very poor sleeper the idea of going to an island bereft of traffic and street lighting sounded like the perfect escape.

I got off the ferry about 4pm, it was a bright and sunny day and the horse drawn carriage was charming, taking the six new visitors to their chosen accommodation.

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Sin

Father Scanlon wanted to be at his meal, a good stew washed down with a glass of red wine. Involuntarily he licked his lips. Saturday evening confessions were always difficult: the trivial sins of his flock comingling with his sharp pangs of appetite.

            His attention returned to the penitent behind the grill. The fellow was rambling, unable or unwilling to name his sin. It was the mortal sins that mattered, and the priest couldn’t judge the sins’ gravity.

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Weathering The Storm

Wyn paused – mid-shuffle – bringing the whole of his deliberation to bear on the weather forecast. ” …  Storm Delme continues to gather pace, with winds of 60 miles an hour sweeping into coastal areas, bringing with it heavy squalls of rain …” His heart beat a little faster. Then he re-focused his attention on the considerable task of placing one foot in front of the other and inched his way from the kitchen to the hall, where his coat hung on a hook.

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Desire

I began as soon as I got in through the door. Packing first, then cleaning later. I pride myself on being methodical, staying cool and calm under pressure; not that this was pressure really, I had been here many times before. Deftly, I pulled my suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe and began packing it with neat layers of clothing, toiletries and makeup.

Cleaning next. I pull on a pair of rubber gloves; every surface, every door handle and light switch had to be cleaned to within an inch of its life! It wouldn’t do to get careless at this stage of the game.

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Desire for what

So much for the boasts of virtual indestructability. Ground realities differ. Paul searched his memory for that specific web page. The photo that oozed seduction – a golden leather top layer and then 2 further layers, splayed like the pages of a flicked book. All fully breathable and heat conserving:
“This traditional snowshoe binding is composed of three layers of material riveted together. Each binding attaches to the snowshoe with two anchor points to reduce lateral movement of the heel, meaning the foot stays in line with the snowshoe”

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A Crime of Passion

White Persian cat

Mia opened her large green eyes, twitched her delicate nose, stretched her sinewy long body. Smelling breakfast, she padded along the thick carpet into the kitchen.

As with every other day eating her food, a noise distracted her. Jumping up she raced to the window. Gazing out HE appeared, strutting along. Her heartbeat raced. How she longed to meet. He was so big and strong, seeing off any rivals who dared to encroach on his territory.

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Daffodils

The university park stumbled down to the sea, imitating the crazy lurching of the terraced houses on the same giddy hill. Sam scuffed about the paths round the flower beds, vaguely aware of daffodils in bloom.

            He had a sharp, stabbing pain at the side of his stomach that wouldn’t go away. He was utterly miserable. Three years he’d stayed away from the town, but as soon as he’d entered the park – following the route he and Nicola had often walked – the sense of oppression had just welled up from within him. Memories from the past  pushed up a bit like bulbs in the soil.

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Galloping Johnny

My name is Stephen Sacks and I’m a complete faggot.

Oh, I know, I know, bluntness is discouraged these days and words like that reek of self-loathing but I’m not pussy footing around, tonight I aim for honesty.

I’ll tell you about a revelation I had last week which stoked the embers and relit my passion. I was at an outdoor pool party, held by my sister’s in-laws. A celebration over the fact they had stuck it out for fifty years.

So, there I was, meekly maundering by the barbecue when I became aware of somebody’s nephew, Johnny whatever, wafting by the swimming pool. And as that handsome youth, wearing nothing but tight trunks, beer in hand, talked to another Adonis, dear reader I felt the desire.

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Consequences

Yvonne opened her eyes to a blackness and silence that caused her breath to stop and her heart to stutter. She lifted her hands up to feel her face, OK, I seem to be alive at any rate!

Putting her hands down she felt around, perceiving a slightly scratchy covering, probably a blanket, and a cool stiff fabric, a sheet. I can’t be in that much danger if they’ve put me in a bed!

Yvonne turned and put her feet down until they touched the floor. It was warm and slightly slippery. She stood up and, waving her hands in front of her, tried to find a wall in what she hoped was a bedroom.

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