“This is all of the candidates?” I heard him ask his advisors, sotto voce.
His gaze swept me dismissively, no more interested than had I been a speck of lint on his finely tailored collar. I took no offence; clients who have underestimated and tried to double cross me in the past have regretted it, albeit very briefly.
“This is most irregular.” An acolyte was addressing me directly now.
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It was really great to meet up again and surprising the way we fell into the old patterns of benign teasing. There was the indulgence of reminiscence and a lot of catching up on the water under the bridge. In some cases that seemed to be quite a deluge. Having said that, we were more or less up to date on relationships – break ups and reassemblies.
Four of us, who now sat in a city park, had been especially close and still shared an odd sense of humour. I have to admit some of our conversations tended to straddle the boundary of acceptability, but it was all part of the delight of storytelling about passers-by who were unaware of their part in our dramas.
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Flowers twice in one month, that’s never happened before. I hear my voice thanking him profusely while my mind is warning me there’s something up.
I have never had any reason to doubt him before, but my gut seems to be playing a set of Tom-Toms. I ignore both of them and make dinner. It isn’t until the early hours of the morning, that my fears start up again. I tell myself I’m imagining things but find it really difficult to get back to sleep, with my mind constantly going over the same questions
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I curse my parents’ choice of Fatimah. A name, whether given at birth, self-ascribed or bestowed by mocking contemporaries is so entwined with identity. Change by deed poll seemed the only solution to the seemingly irremovable tags of “Fatty” and “Tatty.” Identifying a fitting substitution was the challenge.
But that was before my career as a Digital Modifier with the Palimpsest Foundation. Digital Falsifier would be a more accurate descriptor. The greatest perk of apprenticeship was learning the tools of the trade,- pixel manipulation, real-time video simulation, voice replication,- from a true master. The downside was moving far from family to the glaring redness of the Foundation’s god-forsaken HQ in the Mohave Desert.
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It was a good day for it. The sea glimpsed through bare branches was grey, but towards the lighthouse it shimmered beneath the southerly sun. A long walk to the pier but, yes, it had to be today.
He walked along the prom crab-slow, a dignified figure, like a priest approaching the altar. These last few months exhaustion had been his companion when he woke up, his antagonist as the day wore on, and his tormentor in the evening hours before he collapsed into bed again.
Before him the distant lighthouse was like a stub of drawing chalk in a sandcastle, and the small houses in Mumbles fought for light amid the up-thrusting copses. He knew his end was approaching. Perhaps his feckless son would empty his house afterwards, perhaps the council would. None of it mattered any more. Just Jane. He didn’t want Jane left alone in the house after he’d passed.
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Pushing through the door laden down with her weekly shop, Mavis waddled across to the nearest alcove. Time for a cuppa and teacake. The waitress looked across smiling, ”Your usual Mavis,” then nodded as she settled into the corner.
With her tea and teacake, she listened to the chatter from the other alcoves. Over the years she had heard so much local gossip which she shared with her close friends. Today would change everything.
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Welcome to my blog. I’m Sarah, a theatre enthusiast and aspiring actor. Follow me as I explore the hype surrounding Attrition, the play everyone’s talking about.
If you haven’t heard of Attrition, where have you been? For those living under a rock, here’s a quick low-down. Attrition opens in the West End tomorrow and no-one knows who wrote it. The writer is known on Instagram simply as @TheMysteryPlaywright.
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The Austerik Muminsim are an ancient race, who emerged from the quark aggregation taking place just millionths of a second after the big bang, so they aren’t exactly matter, but they really DO matter.
A lot.
They allowed nuclei to form, which also permitted everything else to happen, like stars and galaxies forming. So, it was a surprise when I was asked to meet them.
How do you “meet” an entity with no physical dimensions existing simultaneously in all places and times?
I got an invitation.
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