Spoilers? No, none needed for this. And even if there were, they wouldn’t spoil this mess. Luc, Luc, Luc. Here you had the perfect opportunity to wow audiences with some unique and memorable SF, and what did you do? You … Continue reading Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets. A Movie Review.
As Aisha and I ran down the underground corridor, squinting in the dim light, we heard a voice crackling from an old wooden speaker box on the wall. It was Silas. “You can’t escape you know.” We darted to the … Continue reading The Sale. Part 13.
So, here I am, three years after the most harrowing time of my life and everything is pretty much still the same. I’m not any closer to finding a real purpose. I still have no love in my life. I’m still socially isolated. I still have no idea what I’m doing (my prayers sound like they’re on constant replay). I still have nothing to look forward to. I still suffer from anxiety and depression (although I can walk around now without fear of the walls closing in, so that’s something), I still have no work opportunities, I’m still pretending to … Continue reading Three Years Later…
Here’s a post I did for a recent uni course. The course is over so I can post it now. The idea was to take a news story and extrapolate what it was about. A man attacked a woman … Continue reading The Real News. A short tale.
TextingYour lifelineAn SMS (SOS)To the worldSo much to tellBut so little to sayBRBROFL Continue reading SMS. A poem.
My hands were in the air and so was the rock-solid Maglite flashlight. Silas was watching the Mexican standoff in the store room where crazy woman Junifer had confronted Aisha. I threw the torch as hard as I could. It … Continue reading The Sale. Part 12.
Actually, I am a bit humble. But only a little bit. Carly at message in stanza has nominated me for the Real Neat Blog Award. Thank you, Carly, you are very kind and obviously very wise (I said I’m a bit humble). The rules: Put the award logo on your blog Thank the people who nominated you, linking to their blogs Answer 7 questions asked by the person who nominated you Nominate any number of bloggers you like, linking to their blogs Notify your nominees Ask your nominees 7 questions Here are my answers to Carly’s questions: If you could … Continue reading Another Award! Oh, I’ve got this one before. That’s okay, I’m very humble…NOT!
They're across a crowded roomAnd the narcissist withinIs screaming "look at me, look at me"But the introvert withoutIt whispers "look away, look away"Trying to smile is a struggleAs complex and as simple as a Gordian knotAnd while the cannibal butterfliesConsume your insidesAnd the flush creeping upMakes you look like a fire hydrantAnd you're thinking hardHow not to screw it upThey've started talking with anotherAnd all you have left is self reproachAnd one big "Doh!"Better luck next time Continue reading Turbulence. A poem.
Aisha froze and dropped her phone. The screen cracked on the concrete floor as it bounced at her feet. Across the large, concrete-walled room was Silas, the aged and insensitively tall butler. He was no longer dressed in his servant togs, having changed to a white lab coat and matching trousers, and accessorising with a .38 snub-nosed revolver. Pointing right at Aisha. Being only partly cowardly, I rushed in front to shield her. Having done so I realised perhaps it wasn’t the wisest course of action. My eyes widened. “What the…” “Indeed, John,” said Silas, smiling like a James Bond villain. … Continue reading The Sale. Part 11. A short series.
Close my eyes Sleep the sleep of angels Until l can’t Rude awakening Brought back to life Defibrillated from dreams And held Status update: insomniac Mental tides Washing over tired eyes Why won’t You let Me sleep Damn brain 3:00am meeting with the board Micro managing My many personal investments My kingdom for a hammer To knock me out (In a placid way, of course) So I can ski those dream snow slopes again But no I guess not tonight So many sheep To keep me company 10,20,30,100,1000 Bah I hate sheep, anyway Don’t check Fb Blue light reinforcement Night … Continue reading No Sleep for the Wicked. A poem.
Climbing down the ladder we came to the ground floor, with the passage leading to the pantry. “Should we stop here?” said Aisha, taking the iPhone out of her mouth and shining the torch light up the dingy corridor. “I really think we need to check out the basement.” I tapped my foot impatiently on the rung above her head. “We don’t know if Crazy Junifer is waiting in the kitchen.” Aisha looked up at me and frowned. “She could be anywhere.” “Can we just get going? The faster we get to the basement the faster we can get out … Continue reading The Sale. Part 10. A short series.
You regale me with tales Until the night comes down And I’m in need of a drink But you’re still not done Lucky I love you, son Continue reading Non-stop. A poem.
We made it to the floor access. The iPhone torch light reflected off the shiny ladder, floating dust motes and hanging cobwebs. “We’re going down there?” said Aisha. Her face wrinkled in dismay. “I don’t know. It’s bad enough I’m in a dark passage with some stranger…” I slapped my forehead. “Oh, sorry. I’m John. Forgot to introduce myself.” “That’s because you were too busy screaming like a little old lady.” “Yes, well we can’t all be heroes, can we?” “You’re also a hog.” She snatched the cellphone away and shone its light down the ladder recess. “So we have … Continue reading The Sale. Part 9. A short series.
I flung myself off the bed, seeking to extricate my lower leg from whatever was grabbing it. My effeminate scream echoed through the room. “Oh, shut up,” cried a female voice from below. My leg was released and I huddled against the wall under the shuttered window. An attractive African-American woman in her mid-20’s pulled herself from under the bed and stood. She was dishevelled, dressed in what looked like a tie-dyed hippie dress. “Who are you?” I said, eyes wide in disbelief. “I’m Aisha,” said the woman, smiling. “Sorry I scared you. You scream like a girl, you know.” … Continue reading The Sale. Part 8. A short story.
See what I did there? Okay, well it sounded funny at the time*. I have been lying in bed recovering from my torn calf for the last week and a half (grrrrr…). Being the fitness-addicted idiot that I am, I decided that it was time to get back to exercising before I went stir crazy. Here is the routine I worked out to ease myself back into the big stuff: 3 sets of sit ups (40 reps per set) – core/abs 3 sets of push ups (15 reps per set) – chest/arms 3 sets of bicep curls (10 reps per … Continue reading Training Without Calves (or, Cows With Guns)
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