PLINK, PLINK, FIZZ

When Gillian woke, she knew something felt wrong, but she needed a moment to stabilise her brain. 

The wine or whatever else she’d drunk last night had obviously been more potent than her normal one. Back in France she’d been able to drink a bottle or more with lunch, and still been able to going back to work without a problem. Maybe it was the lack of food that had caused it, or maybe it was a bad drink or seven.

Either way, her mouth was dry, her head was spinning and she felt rough. Not the normal sort of rough that comes from a slight wine hangover but more from some sort of a `vodka` induced event. Maybe that was it, maybe it had been vodka, and she could sort of remember someone shouting if she wanted a drink, but over the noise of the party she couldn’t hear properly so she’d shouted back for a pint.

Back home, she’d usually wake in the early hours and take a pain killer before falling back asleep. Waking later with only a clear head and a fluffy memory, but for some reason, the pain killers had not worked.

Maybe if she’d been home and used her painkillers, then this problem wouldn’t have happened, but then again, if she’d been able to actually get home none of this would have happened. She could feel a tickling between her legs, and she just hoped she’d actually made it back to her friend’s house and wasn’t in some strangers 
bedroom. But the knock at the door and the friendly face of Rachel reassured her that she had actually made it okay.

 

`Do you feel up to a Full English Breakfast? ` She asked quietly from the door.

`No` Gillian waved the thought away. `Not a greasy English Breakfast, no. Do you have croissants? `

`Sorry` Rachel shook her head, `You look really hung over. Do you want an Alka-Seltzer or something? I have some in the kitchen cupboard.`

`No` Gillian shook her head. `I tried two last night, but it did nothing to remove the headache. `

`You did remember to take them with water didn’t you. Remember, Plink, Plink, fizz?` Rachel nodded, reminding her of the instructions. `I told you last night.`

 

It was then that Gillian realised another thing she didn’t like about the English, and the reason she felt, odd down below. `They’re not suppositories are they? ` She shouted as she ran to the toilet,
the fizzing continuing from her bottom.

GRANDMA

Inspired by a piece of art from a very talented artist called `Chris Larkin`

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=422118097812566&set=a.233633449994366.66702.232586313432413&type=1

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Grandma.

By Ian Hawley

Emily didn’t know how long she’d been crying for before she ran out of tears, the empty feeling of loss made her feel sick, and she couldn’t put her thoughts into words to explain them. She understood what death was, she’d seen dead pets before, even buried a few of her own, but this was different, more, well, more final. When she thought of her Grandma, and the fact that she would never see her again, the idea that she wasn’t there to listen to her problems, to offer her advice was just, well, too hard for her young head to take in.

She climbed of her bed, still holding her damp, tear stained pillow to her chest as she walked over to the window and looked outside. The wind whipped at the trees outside as and she sniffed as she watched the leaves as they danced before her eyes. Her Grandma had always loved a storm, and Emily smiled at the memories she had of sitting on her knees as the thunder rolled outside.

`Don’t you let the daft old weatherman scare you, Emily` she used to say, `The way to beat him is to make him scared of you, Like this.` and then her Grandma would shout at the thunder, and Emily joined in before they both fell about in fits of laughter and she smiled at the memory. 

The balloon she’d given her at her Birthday a few weeks ago floated gently by the window, moving slightly in the breeze that managed to filter through somehow into her room, and she stopped to stroke it. 

`I miss you, Grandma, ` she whispered. `I miss you so much. ` She ran her hand over the shiny red heart as she spoke, feeling the material crinkle under her little fingers. `I want to give you this heart back, so you know how much I love you. ` She whispered, as fresh tears ran from her eyes. `That way, there will always be a little of me to keep you company. `

Taking the string in hand, she walked slowly from her room and down the stairs; no one looked as she walked passed. Everyone seemed to be in a world of their own memories, so she quietly opened the front door and stepped outside.

The wind made the balloon pull her hand, but she held on. Holding it tightly in her fingers and she realised that she didn’t really want to let it go, that this balloon was important to her to and she started to sob. `Mum told me when my fish died that you sometimes have to let those you love go, so as not to hold them back. But I want you to be here, I don’t want you to go. Why did you go Grandma, Why...`

Suddenly a sudden strong gust pulled the string free from her hand and the balloon shot upwards out of her grasp, and Emily screamed as she realised what had happened, causing her mother to appear quickly behind her.

`Emily, are you okay? ` Her mother shouted, running over to hug her, and hold her close.

`Grandma’s balloon.` Emily sobbed, `It’s gone and I want it back, I want her back.` She buried her head into her mother’s shoulder. `It’s not fair. `Her mother didn’t answer her, actually, her mother didn’t move at all, and Emily realised that something about that wasn’t quite right and she slowly pushed herself free. Her mother continued to stare behind Emily and as she slowly turned round, she saw the balloon, holding itself in the air a few feet from them.

`Grandma` Emily shouted happily, `Grandma, is that you? ` She pushed herself free from her mother’s arms and ran to the balloon and the wind whipped her hair from her face as she reached up to grab the string, but she stopped herself before she did.

`You know what, Grandma` she smiled, wiping the tears from her face. `You keep it, look after it for me and shout at the storms for me. Just as long as you come back to see me sometime, I’ll be okay. The next time it thunders, you listen for me shouting, Raaaaaaaa.` she roared. 

The heart floated before her for a moment before bobbing down slowly to her height and bopped her on her once on her forehead before shooting up into the sky.

`Bye Grandma, I love you` Emily called as it rose peacefully away. `Bye...`

STOP

Joshua was worried and he didn’t like the feeling. He was normally a very calm and stable sort of person, always aware of what was going on and what was expected of him, but not today.

            Everything had been fine until he got on the bus to go home; he’d sat down next to a little old lady when it happened. He would normally introduce himself to his seat partner, something he’d done now for almost all his life, as he hated the thought of not talking, of missing the opportunity to meet someone new and make his life more interesting.

            She turned to say something back and stopped, not just gone back to looking out of the window or reading the magazine, but actually stopped, frozen mid conversation. Joshua had politely waited for a moment, in case it was a medical condition she suffered from, before he’d spoken again.

            It was then he noticed everyone else had stopped, the bus had stopped, even a bird flying past the window outside had stopped in mid air. He reached passed the lady and tapped the window, hoping that the bird would startle and move again, but it didn’t, so after a moment or two he picked up his bag and made his way downstairs.

            The first problem he had was getting passed the woman with the shopping, she stood in the aisle before the exit and Joshua had to bend and squeeze himself under her arm in order to get to the door, and what little of her he did touch felt solid and cold but he was eventually through and pulling the door open before climbing down onto the road outside, before closing the door again behind him.

            He judged it was a good three miles to his home, but at least there would be enough light to see by and as he walked he marvelled at the frozen world, all those people stopped in mid heartbeat and the silence was terrifying.

            There where people arguing, their faces contorted and frozen in anger, others laughing, but the majority seemed to look sad, they walked down the road with their eyes on the floor, not even aware of the people they passed, the people that could have affected their lives for the better, and it made Joshua feel sad for them to have missed the opportunity.

            The world was filled with so much beauty, so much wonder if only people would take the time to look. All it would take was each person to stop and do something different, to stop following the normal route of their lives, to just realise that they have but one life to live and to waste it would be a shame.

            He stopped about a mile from home and put his bags down on the floor before crossing the road. On the other side he could see a young boy frozen between two cars, he was just about to step out into the path of a bus that he was to busy to see.

            With considerable effort Joshua managed to turn the lad slightly so he would walk into the stationary car, giving him a bruised knee was better that the other option anyway, Joshua reasoned, and you never know, that kid could invent something wonderful now and change the world, now that he would remain in it.

            The little things, they were all Joshua lived for, those little things that everyone else missed, and even now in this frozen landscape, he could still see the beauty around him, more so even. He always took time for things like this, and he found himself actually enjoying the experience.

            He enjoyed the bigger picture view as well, it wasn’t just the little things but the effect they had on others, the domino effect almost. He stopped to move a bird from under the claws of a cat that had managed to move up on it, he’d even stopped a mans car keys from falling down a drain, and for the hell of it, he swapped the coin half way into a coin toss, wishing he could see the child’s face as his 10p turned into a pound.

            Once home, he threw his bag onto the sofa before walking over the grandfather clock that stood in pride of place in the middle of the room. He chastised himself for forgetting to reset the weights, but smiled as the clock ticked again and the world continued outside, but in the end though, at least no one would know if he forgot.

THE STORM

Back in the day, he’d never have thought about walking to the shops, walking was boring, no, he would have run. He could remember the wind whipping through his hair, the sound of the air against his ears as he picked up speed, the sheer joy of running.

Now, he walked, he walked not because he wanted to, but more because he had to. Since Sarah had passed the world had lost its sparkle, lost its brightness somehow, each day just seemed to be like the last, one continuous treadmill taking him closer and closer to his own, eventual death and his eventual meeting with his wife.

He looked up at the clouds that formed above him, he knew now that he should have stayed at home, that he should have resigned himself to an evening without tobacco, but, with so little left in his life, his routine became everything, and if he didn’t go, then he might as well just give up altogether, and Sarah wouldn’t want that.

Forty years ago this would have been a five minute walk, and he felt such a fool for kidding himself that he could still do it. Each step was a struggle for him now, not only for his legs, but his chest also, and he wheezed as he tried to speed up. The leaves started to dance on the floor before him, caught by the energy of the coming storm, and they twisted and jumped before him in mockery for his age.

Even the birds had stopped singing in fear of the approaching storm, though it took him a moment to realise as his hearing aid wasn’t working very well today, the poor woman in the shop had to repeat the cost of his items three times, and in the end, he’d just held his shaking hand out and she’d taken the right amount, thankfully, no one had seen the tear of defeat running down his cheek as he left.

The first drops of rain hit his face and re realised he’s made a huge mistake in coming out, but it was his routine, it was all he had left. The thunder rolled as he started his slow walk home, his stick holding his steady against the winds, it was his routine, and he’d had nothing if he didn’t try.

ADRIFT

The waves slowly rocked the boat, lulling Michael slowly back to sleep. He didn’t know how long he’d been floating now, from his position the sky looked the same, and one moment merged quickly into another.

His lips felt dry and he tenderly licked his lips, trying to moisten them with what little liquid his tongue could spare. It almost hurt to swallow now, and as the sun beat down on him, his thoughts turned to easier times, to drinking with friends and to food, and he hated himself for doing it. All he could see now was burgers and hotdogs, as his thoughts turned to the BBQ’s of last year, of eating in the garden with friends, of laughter, or joy and he punched the side of the boat.

This old thing had become his home, his refuge, its deep sides allowed him to lie flat and avoid the worst of the winds, but with no hiding place from the sun, lethargy had taken over quickly, draining the energy from his arms. The oars lay across the boat above him and he reached up to touch them. They felt warm, but oddly comforting despite the heat above.

Trying to occupy his mind, he picked at the flaking paint on the side of the boat, finding some simple pleasure in it, as he whittled away at the white sides as his nails pulled at the edges. The boat rocked and he rolled slightly in his position, if his attention had been higher, he might have wondered what had caused it, but after what felt like a lifetime adrift, he failed to care.

It was a moment later when he hit land, feeling the solid thud of stone against the outside of the boat, using what little strength he had left, he pulled himself up on the oars and looked over the side. A small island lay before him, lush green grass and the thought of possible food woke his mind, to feel solid ground below his feet was his primary thought and he started to clamber over the sides.


“Boat Number 24, Please remain inside the boat at all times.” A voice called loudly from the other shore. “And to be honest son, you might have more fun if you actually tried to row.”

THE MACHINE

With a satisfying click, the last piece of the machine slipped smoothly into place, and John stood back with some level of satisfaction as he surveyed his work. It was hard to believe that he'd finally got to this point, to finally seeing his creation in reality and he felt a wave of peace and joy wash over him.

Since the idea came to him almost two years ago, he’d been unable to shake it from his head. At the start he’d thought he had gone mad, but the more he studied, the more he researched the idea, the process and the underlying principles the more he’d realised the pure genius and simplicity of the design.

The odd person he’d contacted about his idea had scoffed at him, laughing at the absurdity that some normal person could crack the puzzle. That an uneducated individual without the experience and knowledge only gained through decades of research could dream something so, well, so basic that could resolve the problems of the world in one go.

At first he’d been upset at the rejections, but as time passed and the idea continued to work in his dreams, he realised that divine intervention must had been behind it, and who was he to stop the idea of God, how was anyone able to question the idea’s of the almighty?

It hadn’t been easy, but neither, he reasoned, had building the Arc, but Noah hadn’t quit so John hadn’t either, when his wife left him, he failed to notice for three days, and he only noticed then because the washing basket was full and there was no more space in the sink.

The fact she’d left release him from the normal relationship wastes of time, allowing him to focus 100% on the project and although he felt weak from lack of food, and smelt slightly wiffy now, he was, all the same a satisfied man, the image from his dreams stood before him on the living room floor. People would remember him for this for centuries, years from now, children would walk passed his house and point with awe at his windows.

With one final walk round the machine, he reached forward and grabbed the handle and pulled...

Number 61

“You understand I never wanted this to happen, I never planned for me to become what I have ended up being.” The shadow seemed to shimmer before Johns eyes, whatever the drug was that coursed through his systems seemed to dull his vision and muscle control, but not his fear.

“This is very odd for me, to actually talk to someone about what I do and you need to understand how special that makes you, very special indeed.” The shadow continued to talk as it paced before him. The voice itself was calm, with no malice or intent, but still the terror was there and a tear ran down John’s cheek.

“I was an accountant believe it or not.” The voice laughed. “Just an average Joe working in an average company, but then the cuts came. I was one of two thousand let go, with no other profession under my belt I applied for an online course. Can you believe it, there was a booklet and everything, even a fake ID card. Well, obviously it wasn’t that good, but it gave me the confidence to complete my first job.” John watched as the shadow sat down before him. It was impossible to believe that he had got past all the building security. But somehow he had, he’d made it to his floor to speak to him, the stories were obviously true, he was the best.

“That first job was messy. I wasn’t proud of what I did, I felt guilty for a long time over his wife, but she just walked in, she’d had nothing to do with the redundancies, but she saw my face, and what else was I to do... What would you have done, John? Do you mind me calling you John? Actually, you can’t answer, so I’ll just presume you’re okay with it. I know your wife calls you Big J but I don’t feel that’s appropriate here.”

John’s attention changed, the fear he felt for himself was quickly replaced by the fact this man not only knew where they lived, but must have been in their bedroom, the shadow seemed to sense the change and walked closer.

“I’m sorry if I stepped over a line, but I promise your wife and child will be safe from me, I don’t do it for free anymore, and they have no value to me. But I had to find out what you knew about me, after the questions you’ve been asking I couldn’t exactly walk passed now could I? I just had to pop up and say hello.”

John could feel drool running down his chin, but that was a good sign. He could feel. Maybe the drug was wearing off, maybe he would be able to get to the emergency button and call for help. He tried to breathe a little quicker, in the hope of flushing his system clean as the shadow continued.

“It turned out you see that I have a natural talent for not being seen. At school I was always the invisible one, the one everyone ignored, that turned out to be my greatest gift. My parents would be proud now. But obviously, they couldn’t be allowed to continue either, they made me weak, vulnerable. That kill was actually easier than I thought.” Keep talking you fool, thought John as he watched his little finger shift slightly on the arm rest of his chair.

“Over the last four years… Wow, to actually say it, it’s quite a short time scale, but yes, over the last four years I’ve completed sixty terminations. Perfectly clean, all untraceable to me…or, so I thought.” The shadow stopped and looked at him and John froze. “I’ve taken the liberty of removing the file you had on me from the computer and the mainframe, and the paper copy from your house, and the USB drive you kept in the shed, I can’t be having other coming looking afterwards now can I.”

Breathe faster, thought John as he tried to force the drug through his veins. A couple of minutes more and he could trip the silent alarm and have security here in seconds. He could feel his heartbeat increasing now as it forced the blood quicker round his system and beads of sweat started to appear on his forehead and the pain started to build in his chest.

“I do thank you, John, for this opportunity to talk, it’s been…calming.” The shadow moved towards the door, pausing as it reached for the handle. “I am sorry about having to drug you though, but It will at least look like a heart attack, save your family from any, problems later with insurances. It’s a shame you struggled really, I would have liked to have talked some more.”