The pub door opened and a large figure, like a swollen keg of ale, rolled into the premises. Another equally rotund chap was at his heels. The first one, Huw ‘Jars’ Scanlan, spilt himself into the largest chair in the bar, the second, Hugh ‘Janus’ O’ Keefe, purchased two pints of stout. He carried them across to the table with the reverence of a court servant carrying an embroidered cushion for a monarch. The cream crowns atop the beer maintained unruffled dignity during their journey.
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The Outback Mysteries
“Fucking mozzies” muttered Bob half asleep as he swatted another of the bastards with his hand. “And fucking flies!” he yelled, batting away another attacker.
Can’t stand it here, he thought bitterly, knowing he couldn’t voice his hatred of this new homeland out loud. Surrounded by Sheena’s Australian family who were all thrilled to have her back, had put paid to that. Christmas here was all wrong. Blazing sunshine, barbecued seafood, chilly salads – where was the tradition in that? He missed carol singers, his mother’s crispy roasties and the possibility of sledging in the snow. What he’d give for a Baileys to hand, the EastEnders Christmas special blaring and a box of Quality Street to while away the afternoon.
Continue readingANOTHER LIFE
Dougal was sitting in his armchair and Marie on the settee with their son, Patrick, reading a book. At two years old he had the same copper coloured hair as Dougal, who looked over and smiled. He wondered if their next child, due in a few months, would also have it or have black like Marie.
Opening the evening paper, Dougal took a quick breath. The circus was coming to Swansea. His mind shot back to the nine year old boy he was the last time the circus had visited. He’d sneaked into the camp in the early morning to see the elephants and met Daisy and Mossie. He sighed. He could recall Daisy clearly, her sheer size, yet so gentle as she explored his body with her trunk. He had been in heaven at that moment. Mossie lived with the circus, a brown boy unlike anyone he had ever seen, Mossie had welcomed Dougal, taking him into the family that was the circus.
Continue readingThe Obmil Annals
What with the encircling memories crowding in, Engineer Ozob completely forgot to recalibrate the composter. The consequences, cataclysmal, are well-documented in the journals recently unearthed, an appropriate descriptor, given the tons of earth mixed with meteor fragments that had entombed the Obmil Annals. 110 year-books, carbon-dated 5630 AD to 5740 AD, then silence.
The previous evening, prior to Ozob’s dream, Deputy Toidi had reported, “Composter one’s out again.” with that smug look that said “You must have it done it wrong again.”
“I’m onto it. Good timing; a new rubbish cloud is orbiting.”
Continue readingTomorrow
Tomorrow never comes around
It is a day that can’t be found
The mystery of what lies ahead
Thoughts running through a busy head
In bed wondering what’s to come
Ideas pounding like a drum
Dreams and aspirations dwell
Then midnight rings its final bell
Tomorrow holds an ambitious fate
Tomorrow’s always running late
Another day has now arrived
But tomorrow has not survived
Future desires have gone away
Tomorrow’s just another day By Sarah Rengozzi
Fly Away
Rose settled into her nest, another busy night, sighing as she turned to the others.
Lily poked her head up: ‘Hard night Rose. You wouldn’t believe it. I had to rummage under the bed to find the tooth, all those dust bunnies’ bits of food. It was disgusting’.
Marigold piped up: ‘Last time that happened to me there was a mouse there, eyeing me up.’ Gasps from the girls.
Lily shuddered: ‘What did you do?’
‘Chucked a bit of biscuit at it, grabbed the tooth and scarpered.’
Hyacinth joined in. ‘I had a fright not long ago when a dog came sniffing around sucked me halfway up his nostril. Thankfully it tickled his nose, he snorted and blew me across the room,’
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