BIG CHANCE

It’s a grand night for singing. The words of the old song
filtered into her mind as she stood there, the activity of the fair all
around her. And it was certainly her big chance. She looked up to the
stars before the action and they seemed so wonderful, as if they held
her destiny. Then the time came. He was there in front of her. She
pouted, knowing no one could resist her. He moved closer, his arms
encompassing her, his mouth beckoning hers, about to take her to –
to what? To the most important moment of her life, where her dreams
would come true, where nothing mattered but this moment; this
wonderful, fulfilling, magnificent moment. Then … ‘Cut!’ said the
Director. ‘We’ll let you know.’

THE SOLIPSISTIC SOPHISIST

He would ask frequently: why am I
always ignored? Of course, he was self obsessed
– always had been; totally deficient regarding
social interaction. People were – well – lesser.
He could take no more. That’s such a false
argument, he’d say to their criticisms, if he said
anything. Then – why am I always ignored? They
never found his body.

THE RELUCTANT SLAYER

I knew something had gone wrong when the piano
accordion player slumped forward. At first, no one realised what
had happened. It was an enjoyable party with plenty of noise,
plenty of drinking, and most of my attention was on Sue, dancing
and drinking straight out of the bottle. Which man would she have
her eye on tonight, I wondered. Still, I was satisfied that it wouldn’t
go anywhere – not tonight. That’s when the double bass player
slumped forward, too. Only then did I realise Sue shared her
drinks as well as her body.

EXAM PASSED

He was a good student. You couldn’t fault him, really. His
devotedness was guaranteed. But maybe that was the problem. He
considered knowledge a true quest – and combined with his absolute
confidence in himself, it could be a potent mix. Criticism, failure –
such things were not on his radar. But we all fail sometimes; we all
need criticism – sometime. And as I sat here, ready to open the
results of his exams and tell him, I knew I had to arm against him. A
magnum of champagne sat on the desk, ready to celebrate his
success – and if he’d failed … a Magnum of a different kind under
my jacket.

BEAUTY UNFOUND

She needed confidence, she knew that. ‘Find
your inner beauty,’ she was told. But life is fast. Life is
trivial. Life is without meaning. Today. She searched –
the best she could. She searched everywhere but within
her own soul. She didn’t know how to find that. So she
failed, and opted for the surgeon’s knife.

KEEPSAKE

He’d found it when he passed through the time anomaly
and joined the Intergalactic Fleet to help save the universe. His
adventures were, of course, many. Dangerous, too, but when he
returned he brought the keepsake with him. It was a simple,
handheld device which, when activated, allowed him to jump ten
seconds into the future. And he had inevitably used it to do good,
saving lives, fighting crime, and being a generally good superhero.
Of course, now that he had lost it, and found himself just lying
there, he was increasingly restless – something that was not lost
on the psychiatrists, who kept the straight-jacket tight.

IN SEARCH OF TRUTH

The book was thick and black and covered with dust, but I
had found it. At last, after years of searching, it was before me. The
library hadn’t been entered in centuries – for so long had the Book of
Truth been denied us. And as I walked into the library its boards were
bowed and creaking. But there was no fear within me now – at last I
was to know the Truth! At last I would we able to go into the world
and tell the people how things should be, how we must live, how we
must exist! Yet just as I was in reach of the Truth, the boards gave
way and down I fell, forever down, the boards snapping shut once
more above me. I spent many eons in that dark place, amidst the
prophets and dictators, before I realised the world could not handle
Truth.

HOLO-STATE

Roll up, roll up! Get your holo-husband here. No need to
feed, no need to suck up to his ego. Just switch on and he’s yours,
complete with variable sex settings … They looked back upon the
launch of the product with dread. Maybe they should have realised
they’d have had to perfect the holo-kid, too, before the human
race died out through lack of procreation.

SEEING THE LIGHT

‘Crime is not evil,’ said the criminologist. There was general
disagreement – until he showed the examples. The first was a
modern city, lawful by day, but at night, the lights out, crime
increased in the dark. The second was an ancient settlement
where, at night, the fear of evil kept them all in their beds.

LAKESIDE

It was laughable but the fish seemed fat. I was floating
in the lake by Larry. We often went for a swim here, expecially
when we needed to cool off. We’d argued, you see, and Phil wasn’t
here to invigilate – which was bad. Larry had a temper. They’d
argued recently, too, and I was about to ask where Phil was when
my foot touched something soft. Then I said: Take your hands
off my thro … !!!

AFTER THE SHOW

He knew the drugs had been folly, but how else does a celebrity
survive with such an overbearing, often hostile media? The pressure
to conform to an image was just too powerful. But sometimes he
just wished he could have been ordinary. Rehab helped, of course,
but it was meeting Jenny that really sorted him out. ‘I just don’t know
who you are,’ she said after several weeks together. They searched
for him in the videos of his shows, but he was not there. They relived
the films and the interviews, but he was nowhere to be found. ‘We’ve
got to go back to your roots,’ she said; yet it was hard when all he
had been was image. But they both knew there was a human being
to rebuild.

ADD SPICE TO LIFE

They were a miserable family before Spicer arrived. Where he
came from, they didn’t know, but he was soon asked to stay. You
see, he was just so much fun and they discovered how to laugh once
more, how to live life to the full. Of course, they were also naïve, as
they found out when he left, taking their savings with him. At first
they were angry with themselves for being so stupid. Then the anger
turned towards Spicer. But as the anger subsided and they could still
smile, they realised they had stolen quite a lot from him, too.

THE SETTLEMENT

It was costing far too much. His third divorce was proving the
worst yet – how could he afford to go through that again? Of course,
the situation had been eased by the murder of his two ex-wives. A
serial killer, they said – after they had scrutinised every part of his life
to make sure it wasn’t him, of course. And not only was he proved
innocent, but the detectives felt quite sorry for him. His third may be
a beauty, but social climbing and intrigue came so easily. It was
during the divorce that the detectives returned – they’d found
evidence that his third got so jealous of the first and second that
she simply had to get rid of them. So that was it – the third divorce
proved quite cheap. Which just goes to show – planning a bit of
insurance before marriage can be better than a pre-nup.

THE NEWS

He was new to journalism, and when he put down the phone
his heart raced. He scribbled erratically and then rushed into the
editor, excited by the news he’d just received. ‘A scoop!’ he said. The
editor put down the latest celebrity snaps and read the notes. Then,
looking up, he said: ‘News? How quaint.’

ERROR’S COST

It didn’t always go right. Oh, he knew what he was doing. She
was sat by him, listening to him – adoring him. The drip, drip, drip of
insinuation came from his hypnotic voice, and when it seemed right,
he took her. Over the following days she re-lived it over and over
again and felt so good, so complete, so totally as one with him. But
when she saw him in bed with another, and another … Maybe the sulk
should have warned him, and the growing anger in her eyes, but as
the drip sent the juices through his body, it was doubtful he would
survive. Close by, the police put the commune on suicide watch.

DREAM ON

‘Dream on,’ said the Seducer, ‘for dreams are sweet’. They
had never said those actual words, but he knew he had heard them
often. And of course, he’s not alone. Throughout the past the
Seducer has been there, offering dreams aplenty – dreams sweet
with aspiration – dreams for YOU, the Seducer always said, as you
dreamt the night away, and then … as he opened the credit card
bill, the awakening.

INDULGENCE

He had the urge for indulgence. It never occurred to him how
destructive it can be. He’d had the urge for a long time, and it was
behind his first flicker of fame. He could have had a good, long
career, but he craved the indulgence – in his celebrity status and his
outrageous living. And of course, the outrageous living increased the
fame as the fans indulged him. And inevitably the indulgence led to
the clinic, the arrogance and the spectacular fall from fame. But his
indulgence knew no bounds. He knew he just had to have those
headlines again. And now, as he took the overdose, his dying thought
was that he was back.

LOST A LEG

I’d lost a leg. One minute it was there, and then, after
the accident, it wasn’t. It was as simple as that – just lying there
beside me. There was no pain, and I just looked at it, annoyed. It
was the chisel. Just one slip and … well, you know. What a
clumsy sculptor I am.

A VISIONARY TALE

As he saw the Oracle he knew he should kneel. The world
had gone mad, and he had to know what he could do. Soon the
Oracle had transformed his mind and the vision came. All was death
and gloom, the atmosphere acrid and dead. As visions came it became
transparent. He saw early man in a universe with nature spirits, and
man was that nature. And with organized religion he saw man as an
ordered, spiritual being, reflecting the ordered universe of God. And
as science rose he saw man in a universe of specialization, and his
society fragmented, as the cosmos. And with technology, the
universe became machine-like, and man a cog; a machine spewing
its exhaust … And he now knew we are always a reflection of what
we see the universe as being. Yet, as he returned to the dead
outside, he knew he could do nothing. If only it had been a vision of
the future, and not a remembrance of the past.

THE TRAVELLER

It seemed as if he had been traveling an eternity, everywhere
he had been a kind of spectral blur as memories flashed before him. ‘Is
there anybody there?’ said the Traveller, knocking on the moonlit
door. He waited, and eventually he heard the thud of heavy steps
approaching from within. Slowly the door creaked open and a pained,
harrowing face appeared. The man was stooped and the haunted look
extended to the interior of the house – an ancient house that must
have witnessed so much as the centuries had rolled by. The man
offered the traveler a drink, and noticing the obvious fear on his face,
said: ‘Don’t worry, it isn’t haunted.’ The Traveller felt at home here.
His eyes became translucent and a knocking seemed to envelop the
whole house. ‘It is now,’ he said.

HUMAN

‘So you have your report?’ asked the Director of Galactic
Misdemeanour. ‘I have,’ replied the Investigator. ‘The species is
Human, planet Earth. Typical evolutionary path. Reached globally
calamitous tech levels rather quickly, spurred on by a series of
ideologies and inter-species hatreds. The destructive path always
seems to provide the better tech. Descended into trivia-based
mass capitalism as expected, and accelerated climate change,
with the double problems of tech-based medications accelerating
viral evolution, and chemical use reducing sperm count.’ The
director sat back: ‘Classic self-hate syndrome.’ He sighed. When
will these lower species learn, he wondered, looking again
at the fossil.

THE CRASH

It seemed a normal night. There was nothing to prepare them
for what would happen. They had gathered as they normally did, and,
UFO geeks they may be, but when the flying saucer crashed they
were shocked. Slowly they gathered around it in awe. ‘Gee,’ one of
them said, ‘your girlfriend sure has a temper.’

SEDUCTION

To yearn for one so sweet. He took in the prettiness of
her; the innocence, the decency – the delicateness – wrapped in
a perfect figure of womanhood. Her long blonde hair, the flowing
white dress – all accentuates the feeling deep inside him. The
seduction is subtle and when they meet in an embrace, passion
grows to fever pitch. Soon they collapse to the floor and the
conquest is complete … Afterwards, they open their eyes – look
out into the street. Watch the people. He knows what he must
do, even though the blood lust is new to him. But she holds
his hand … sweetly …

THE WRONG STORY

I’d often asked if I could ever have control of my existence.
I know, I’m not supposed to ask – not even capable of asking. My
existence isn’t my own and my destiny is in another’s hand. In one
way this is perfect, but I rebelled – found myself elsewhere. My
existence, you see, had been snared up for too long. Well, ‘elsewhere’
was strange. I didn’t recognize any of it. Nothing worked like I was
used to – gee, there was even a baby in a cradle in this place, and I
don’t do babies. I’m a totally different kind of guy – not into this
social guff. Anyway, to cut a long story short, my rebellion soon
came to an end. I saw the shadow first, and then it came at me
from above – this huge missile-like thing. I should have guessed it
was a pen, and as it made contact it scrubbed me out totally. And
I soon found myself re-written into a story where I belonged.

MY HERO, MY LIFE

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life …
Copperfield would like those words, he knew. He sat back, satisfied.
It was the great question – the question his life’s work eventually
asked of so many, from Pip to Nickleby – even Ebenezer. As to
whether he WAS the hero of his own life, he summised that writers
always did, and always would, ask it – and not be sure of the answer
– for them, at least. But he was satisfied that he belonged to a craft
that inspired others to be theirs.

KILL THE DONKEYS

They blew up the donkeys. They were just there, in the field.
You could hear their cry. Some said it went to extreme, rigging
everything up in the dark, and then just BANG!! And the next morning,
they were just lying there, inactive, dead. But at least we could now
be green, with the oil pumps gone.

WHERE IN THE WORLD

Where in the world am I? We’ve all asked the question from
time to time, I’m sure. But whilst a moment ago I had a good idea, I
was no longer sure. I’d followed him. It was inevitable. After all, I was
a cop and he was a villain. That’s what I did in the world. But
catching up with him was a world changing event. What was I to be
now? I wondered – after what he’d done. Where in the world am I?
Am I even in the world? You see, bullets in the chest prompt such
questions.

LOVE ROSE

‘Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow.’ The John Lennon
quote had been apt to the life before us, good reader; even though
it can leave a bitter taste as our subject knelt here before the rose.
It had seemed a match made in heaven. Oh, the clichés! But it
turned out to be one long series of clichés – the whirlwind romance,
the marriage – but beneath it all, the knowing that he loved someone
else, allowing his love to spread like a virulent weed. She suspected
this early in their short time together. And the suspicion grew,
paranoia blossoming into a bouquet of deceit and lies. And then the
fear. Was she SAFE!? Well, it turned out she wasn’t. There were
too many flowers in his garden and weeding had become a necessity
… So our subject knelt here before the rose, the grave immaculate,
the memory of the bitter taste of poison she had delivered before
his weeding commenced. And as she pruned away with gusto, she
remembered his Rose.

HE BITES

He knew what to do. Some thought his performance was cruel, giving
the sensation of repeated biting, whilst the reality was more subtle.
True, those bites hit home in ways they could not imagine. Chomp,
chomp, chomp they went, feeding on our psyche. And with each bite
a chunk of freedom went. Beware the allure of the political soundbite.

DON’T YOU REALISE?

Thornhill didn’t mean to patronize him but he had little choice.
He was here in the darkness and the intruder had intruded once too
often. But now he had his attention. He’d said it over and over again:
‘You shouldn’t be here.’ But the intruder wouldn’t have it. He’d been
coming here for so long that it certainly felt right to him. But Thornhill
persevered and eventually he could sense the intruder weakening.
And when he finally got him to look down at the gaping hole in his
chest the realization was palpable. So that was it then. He WAS
dead. And Thornhill had carried out another successful exorcism.

All © Anthony North, 2009