Fisherman’s Blues

“If I were married to tha’ bitch,” Jon laughed “I’d drink!” It was a less-than-quiet exclaim in the corner of the less-than-quiet pub ‘The Dog and Soda’ in Burnsley. It escaped the attention of Jon’s captive audience that he was drinking. He had, in fact, been drinking for many hours at that point. “Sir, If …

The Waiting Game

I gripped the ladder fiercely until my knuckles whitened and my bones complained at the strain. I remained this way, like a rigor mortised superhero until my mind associated the tight throttling hold on the wood with the concept of choking someone; at which point I let go, momentarily, alarmed by the violence of my …

The Rings

Almost everything about my funeral was perfect. My body rested, awaiting its captive audience, in the church hall over night. A Catholic tradition only afforded to true believers of the faith. My entire family gathered and told stories of my better days. They remembered my contagious laughter, my love for them, and how I would …

Tying The Knot

Today we tied the knot. When I woke up this morning my hands hit the alarm clock and absorbed its vibrato shrilling. I had been up most of the night, anxious, but I put that aside quickly by reminding myself of the future. There was a lot to do to get ready! I shaved carefully, …

Ironman

My friends used to call William “Ironman” because the first time we kissed he got a nosebleed and the taste of his blood haunted me for a long time after it. We’d only been twelve years old and apparently the anxiety spiked his blood pressure to the point of combustion… I remember that when we …

Giving Up On Ugovinia

The moon lifted its heavy head over the flumes of dust and smoke that wrapped themselves around the spike of Saint Augustine’s bell tower and, as per the Treaty, at precisely eight o’clock silence struck Ugovinia. Both sides of this unholy war claimed to have the True God in mind; the two hour daily ceasefire …

Very, Very Important

My anxious gaze rested upon the tea-strain, dyed yellow with the residues not yet washed away, that was sat next to its blanched teacup friends that watched as I tottered along the worktop. I ran my hand along the bumpy plastic to steady myself. I unsettled an empty biscuit jar, jumping as it clattered its …

Flying High

The YMCA is throbbing through the sound system and a girl is crying in the pitch-black bathroom stall behind me. I wash my hands too quickly so as to drown the sound out with the hand-dryer; it sounds like caves sealing their secrets and I slip out past a tide of giggling young women in …

The Bone Collector

Sometimes my breath catches in my throat and the very stillness of an earth going a thousand and three miles per hour gets lodged there. Sometimes these simple exchanges leave me breathless, croaking on dust: the unfiltered pigments of other people’s skin and blood and ash but with my tarred lungs and itchy eyes I …

Talking To The Furniture

Richard found himself talking to the furniture. “Ahhh” he sighed settling into his favourite chair “lets have a nice sit down shall we?” The question lay down on the floral rug and withered away unanswered. “What’s that all about, eh?” he grumbled to the doormat that had curled up snuggly against the front door, jamming …