WHAT IF?

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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One Scout Went to Mow

It’s Joe’s turn to tell a story by the campfire.

“One night, a boy went missing on Scout Camp,” he whispers. I shiver, despite the heat, and huddle in closer. I’m not scared, it’s just that it’s hard to hear him when he’s whispering like that. Behind him, the shadowy outline of tree branches could be horns growing out of his head.

“Every year, on the anniversary of his disappearance, another boy goes missing. But right before he does, he sees the missing boys. No-one else can see them…”

The fire spits and we all jump, then we’re laughing uncontrollably. This is way more fun than singing boring camping songs.

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Toilet Humour

Teenage Male sitting on toilet thinking of Gorilla Glue

Just forgot.

Joe had not meant to leave the seat up again. He had promised Mam to mend his ways but talking it over afterwards with Geraint in the railway sidings had spawned a flow of subversive mycelial thoughts that spread and advanced each time he used the bathroom.

The rails were a comforting backdrop for the boys to try on the fit and suitability of new ideas before  integration into their developing adult identities. The clatter of rolling stock, honk of diesel horns and that special click as the point changes engaged oiled the process.

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