Tag Archives: had

Celestial Life

Posted on by under 2025, October 2025 - The Good Life

“Stop calling it a cult, mum! And stop calling me Beverley, I’m Vasanthi now”. Vasanthi didn’t like the defensiveness she heard in her voice as it rose to a squeak.

“Oh darling, I wish you’d just come home. You’ve had your fun now. I do get it… I had my spiritual awakening in Tibet when I was your age…” Vasanthi rolled her eyes as her mother continually

“… and I adored that time, but I came to my senses and I came home. Manchester University rang to confirm they’d hold your place in Computer …. “

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Vox Pop

Posted on by under 2025, October 2025 - The Good Life

Although my journalist’s style guide has a whole section on avoiding clichés, I’m excited to share with you my awesome journey towards local newspaper stardom. 

Earlier in the week prospects had seemed to be shifting downwards. An editorial encounter, at which I had intended to pitch an investigative project about vaping in schools, brought this well and truly home.

The drift of this went:

‘.…local rags can’t carry  reporters with airy, ill thought out ideas…..where’s the research? ..by election coming up….get out on the streets and ask people how they think life can improve …if anyone mention vapes, that’s a bonus for you. ’

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MY PERFECT LIFE?

Posted on by under 2025, October 2025 - The Good Life

Prison counsellor Richard Wilson peered through thick lens glasses at prisoner Wilf Watts, a small scrawny old man with a full head of silver hair, his eyes appearing open and honest. Wilf had been sentenced to four years for offences that lead to him being a local hero within the prison. Leaning forward Richard  asked,  ‘Would you like to explain the circumstances that led to you being here, Wilf?’

Wilf settled back in the armchair, thinking for a moment: ”It’s like this, you see my wife died last year. Wonderful women she was, my Margey. We were married for over forty years, she did everything for me. Sold our home as I couldn’t live there without her, bought myself one of those mobile homes and travelled all over. It is what she wanted. Found it a bit lonely to be honest.  Then some bugger stole it, I lost everything and had a hard time getting even a little bedsit. The police were useless, didn’t do a thing, the insurance company gave me the runaround.

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Prosopognosia?

Posted on by under 2025, September 2025 - Easy Way

Steve was struggling. The vaguely familiar face,- was it himself or Nige? Prosopognosia was a real bummer. Dr Shah had suggested focussing on a distinguishing feature.  For Steven it was hair,or the lack thereof. His own scalp was silky smooth, shaven each morning at Ali Barber’s; Nigel had locks that tumbled to his shoulders Some sufferers could not differentiate between a face and a car so the fact he could now recognise both his own face and the mirror, evidenced, he had been told significant  progress.

“Two Peas, two pods” his mother would say when strangers remarked on the dissonant appearance of the  non-identical twins,- different in height and  physique, yet  incongruously ditto-dressed with strangely duplicate faces. They dressed identically over the boundary-pushing teenage years, into adulthood and beyond into middle age . That and their penchant for wearing copy-cat beanie hats come rain, come shine, was their USP. Nigel, taller, red-headed, a beanpole, was the brawn and he, a Billy Bunter, the brains. Brawn, brains and sibling rivalry make for uncomfortable bedfellows. In adolescence Steven would invariably get the girl whilst Nigel, having been caught copying Steven’s homework, would spend the evening in after-school detention.

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One last client

Posted on by under 2025, Sept 2025 - The Easy Way Out

You know what? she thought. Fuck it, one more time. But no more after this.

She threw her phone onto the bed after replying yes and hitting send, disgusted with herself, then turned to look in the full-length mirror by her dresser, sighing. She’d promised Thomas that the last time really had been it, that she wouldn’t do it anymore. They didn’t need to any more money, she didn’t need to put herself at risk…

But this was too incredible an opportunity to turn down.

The man was one of those obnoxiously wealthy politician types, fingers in loads of different pies, and apparently some unpleasant vices. He’d made his fortune—from what she could gather from her research, at least—in oil, property, and telecoms, then branched out into more shady practices; weapons dealing to proscribed terror organisations, specialist dark web sites trading in narcotics and other less salubrious goods, and there were hints of things even worse.

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Love Amongst Monsters

Posted on by under 2025, Sept 2025 - The Easy Way Out

Mr Sailsbury was a man burdened by very little. Marriage arranged by parents, children raised by governesses, and his job was more or less inherited with his boss making no demands.

His wife likewise asked for very little, sighing as she heard of another late evening at the office with her typical reply of: “That’s alright dear” which was as passionate as their marriage got.

Mr Sailsbury, however felt that a man such as himself should have a mistress. A wife you did your duty towards; a mistress was for fun.

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So Much Fun

Posted on by under 2025, August 2025 - Persuasion

As Rupa chugged the remnants of her Singha beer she caught sight of her inner arm tattoo and involuntarily winced with regret. The faded unicorn, a hazy reminder of a debauched weekend in Budapest with her bestie Ruby, who had the tattoo mirrored on her inner thigh.

“Who wears it best?!” they would often exclaim in unison. Rupa could never admit that she loathed it, seeing the unicorn as an emblem of her vulnerability, rather than a symbol of friendship. Rupa’s mother called Ruby ‘a bad influence’, whereas Rupa thought Ruby was ‘so much fun’. Collectively they were referred to by various monikers – the Ru Sisters, Ru Squared, Ru to the power of two or the more pedestrian Double Trouble.

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Unpersuaded

Posted on by under 2025, August 2025 - Persuasion

First year of college I had to endure Jerry Burns. He was your standard, entitled nice guy, forever moaning over his virginity and what an injustice it was that those heartless bitches wouldn’t date him.

I was unpersuaded to be his girlfriend, probably because in addition to being entitled and brimming with rage, he was also criminally boring; his only topic was himself.

Second year, I mercifully didn’t share a house with him, although he kept sending me drunken texts on how much he missed me, how hanging out with me was the best time of his life and what a stone-cold whore I was for ignoring him.

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Open To Persuasion

Posted on by under 2025, August 2025 - Persuasion

Carefully opening her eyes, Holly had a head full of bees. The noise bounding around, clanging, forced her bolt upright. It wasn’t a dream, she was in a cell!!

The smell of urine caused her to gag. There was a toilet in the corner, the sight of which made her retch even harder. Slowly her memory returned in flashes .

Shawna again, why did she always go along with her wild ideas? It had been the same when they were in college .

The trip to the woods ended in a bog, then to add insult to injury a branch swung back and a black eye for Holly, with Shauna laughing her head off. A night on a pub crawl, Holly woke up in a bush on the prom, no sign of  Shauna. Apparently she thought Holly looked so peaceful, she left her there. Getting caught trying to sneak into a posh nightclub, ejected by the scruff of their necks. The list was endless but this was the last straw. No more!

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Deliverance

Posted on by under 2025, August 2025 - Persuasion

Mick sat in his land-train on an escarpment overlooking the crossing. Below, in the valley, the bots paraded alongside the slowly shuffling line of indentured labourers, their threatening gestures accompanying each faltering step. He counted five bots, one for every twenty humans.

“It’s all about ratios,” he muttered, pulling his scarf up to his nose. That’s how corporations preferred it. Bots were costly; humans were cheap. But everything had a cost. He’d rescued slaves before… for a price.

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The Surgery of Mirrors

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

Dr Ima Kwak hesitated. The oblique angle of the antique mirror captured him seated in his wood-panelled office; the leather olive-green captain’s chair highlighted his status. He caught himself glancing and sighed. That advert had sounded promising.

“Immersive Scenarios ensure every trainee surgeon is practice-ready for ONLY a fraction of your traditional cost.”

Still he held back from clicking the know-more link. The responsibilities of Regional Post-Graduate Dean in Medical Education had over the 26 years seeped, morphed and varicosed as if from an untreatable haemophiliac. It now included fiscal responsibility and he was at heart a clinician not an accountant.

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Mei Myself I

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

Standing before the bathroom mirror she was startled by the shadow behind her

Mei always felt something was missing.

Mei 美 meant ‘beautiful’ in Mandarin, which she thought both cruel and comical as Mei felt anything but. Western beauty standards reared their ugly head during teenagehood, sparking a yearning for longer legs, wider eyes and fairer skin. A well disguised eating disorder joined the party.

The bathroom mirror continued to tell and withhold her secrets. A sallow complexion, a haunted stare. A half visible shadow emerged to her right

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Wannabe

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

That old ad is doing the rounds on social media again. It has always haunted me, but after the day I’ve had at work, I’m regretting my life choices more than ever. I indulge myself by dialling the number.

“Is it too late?” I’ll say. I sigh when a recorded message tells me that my call cannot be connected. 

            I know exactly where I was on Friday 4th March 1994. It was mum’s fortieth birthday, so I had trudged into town after sixth-form college to browse the shops for a gift.

            The mirror had caught my eye immediately amongst all the other bric-a-brac, emitting a soft golden glow under the lights. It had been relegated to the back of a shelf behind five dusty dolls, which I ceremoniously brushed aside.

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BILLY DON’T BE A HERO

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

Sitting half way up the Witches Hat, Billy Thomas was trying to comfort the young couple. They had tried to climb down the Hat, but had become stuck after a slip on the shale had left the young lady with a badly gashed leg.

Billy and his friends were on their Boxing Day trek and had been walking along gossamer trails, the hoar frost thick on the ground. A weak sun hung sulkily in the sky.  He was always thankful  to escape the aftermath of family Christmas Day.

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The Messenger

Posted on by under 2025, June 2025 - Sacrifice

The robin is perched on the railing of the balcony outside. I can tell without even looking out there. I’d know its song anywhere, though I wouldn’t have expected to see one here, at this time of year, and in this idyllic holiday cottage where I’m staying. I smile to myself and finish making my morning coffee. I picked up these coffee beans in the local market yesterday, and their chocolate-rich aroma fills my nostrils as I stir in the milk, the spoon jangling pleasingly against the china cup.

A robin used to arrive in our garden every year on the anniversary of Grandma’s death when I was a child. Mum would ask me to help write a newsletter for the bird to take to her, wherever she was, updating her on all that we had been up to that year. I used to love sticking in photos and drawing pictures of all the activities we had done and all the holidays we had been on.

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WHAT IF?

Posted on by under 2025, June 2025 - Sacrifice

Opening the curtains Anna looked out on a kaleidoscope of colour: the perfect day, the birds awakening, a flurry of sleepy tweets, trees rustling .

Climbing back into bed she sighed in relief. Six in the morning and since her mother’s death there was no hurry now to start her day. Turning on her clock-radio a distant memory wrapped around her, a favourite song of her and Joe. She cried, recalling all the hurt of her choices.

In Sydney, Australia Joe Harvey sat looking through the family album. Jan, his wife, had passed away some time ago. Living on his own was hard, he missed the companionship. Out of nowhere a shaft of misery drove deep into him. A name popped into his mind, consoling, one that he had buried long ago.

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She Wanted More

Posted on by under 2025, May 2025 - The Party

Honeysuckle Kumar wanted More. More of what, she was not quite sure. Perhaps more space to figure it all out.  

Theoretically Honey (as she was known as to friends and family) had Enough and should have Nothing to Complain About. A high earning husband, a software developer who took his role of provider seriously. Twins, Hari and Jasmin, who recently took up places at good universities. The mortgage on their detached three bedroom house in a middle class (albeit boring) area was paid off.

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Rat Poison

Posted on by under 2025, April 2025 - The List

HOUSEHOLD

?Rat Poison?

Tilly had forgotten her specs. She hadn’t transferred them from the pocket of her winter fleeced Danimac to her summer cotton jacket. Always the same with April weather in Swansea; an overnight rise of 8 degrees meant searching out the summer wardrobe with the risk of  a disruption in “ the system.” House keys, shopping list, pouch containing store cards and bus pass were in the left pocket as usual, but no glasses.

“Mum your phone should be in a separate pocket from keys. The screen could get scratched” Moira’s words. 

Having a “system” was as important as having a shopping list … and being able to see, Tilly’s thoughts reposted.

“Never get your phone out in public.” her daughter’s words again.

Well Tesco’s <Household> aisle is hardly The Kingsway,

Tilly acted. Needs must. The snufflings, rustlings and scratchings from the bedroom next door were getting too much; she had hardly slept for the past three nights. Every year when the weather changed, it happened. Squinting around she spied a blurry Dad and toddler at the far end searching amongst the plastic buckets. Not a risk. Tilly extracted the mobile from her right jacket pocket, stooped, chose panoramic mode and photographed the bottom 2 shelves, then cranking herself back up zoomed-in to examine in detail the latest pics in her Gallery app.

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There’s a hole in my bucket

Posted on by under 2025, April 2025 - The List

This was a row that had simmered for years but hadn’t yet been defused. It was an underground river of molten lava that threatened to erupt but, apart from the odd burps of hot magma, remained sluggishly subterranean and unacknowledged.

The accelerant was the  proposed retirement, in five years’ time, of Joan and Hywel. Each had busy and fulfilling jobs – which had masked their need to discuss points of incompatibility and irritation. However, they were both keen to leave the worlds of work for the worlds of…..well this was the main problem.

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That Blinking List 

Posted on by under 2025, April 2025 - The List

As Howard opened the washing machine and pulled out his clothes, his heart sank; everything was blue. His favourite white shirt was now tie-dyed, his jumper had shrunk small enough to fit Albie, his grandson.

Margy had only been gone three days and he was failing miserably. He really had tried to follow her list. Some of the things seemed a bit extreme like polishing all the surfaces every day. Why when there was only him there?

Margy, at sixty eight, had got herself a last minute free holiday with Faye, whose husband had a chest infection. It was Margy’s first holiday without him.

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