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Showing posts with label Len Morgan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Len Morgan. Show all posts

Sunday, 2 August 2026

Dreamscape (part 3 and Last)

Dreamscape (part 3 and Last)

By Len Morgan 


“I think we should run it by the director…” said Jak.

.-…-. 

“As you suggested Kevin, we are beginning to test a wider, more mature range of subjects, and have advised our partners in other countries to do the same.  Now we can only wait and see if the revised parameters bear fruit.”

Over the next few weeks, I made dream trips within the solar system, scapeing the moons of Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune.

I never received direct evidence of success or failure and to be honest I didn’t get much feedback from the program; nor did I expect it.  The excitement of the people around me was enough to tell me that we were making progress.

Three weeks later we received feedback from Australia, Mexico and Canada. All three had located likely subjects, and in the fullness of time others were found including Julie who hails from Scotland, she lived ten miles from the project. So, the program proceeds at pace…

As promised I received tuition at golf and have become quite proficient; handicap 13.  I have become a proficient sous chef, exceeding my expectations by far. 

.-…-. 

The search is now on to increase the speed of conventional rocketry.  AI is working on practical solutions. In the short term we will be exploring the asteroid belt and moons for commercial projects.

AI is still working on practical solutions for us to visit nearby star systems ‘in a human lifetime’ at or near the speed of light.  But it’s a pipedream; carboxy lifeforms could never survive the acceleration and deceleration speeds required, or survive the boredom?  We would need so much food, oxygen, water and fuel.  One ship would consume all the resources of the earth with no guarantee of success. I guess animals like us ‘flesh & bone’ are too fragile and short lived.  We are, in my opinion, ‘stop at home creatures’ destined to stay in the solar system until the Sun runs out of fuel.

But, AI may yet hold out hope…  Miniaturization could be a possibility, tiny working machines under the contol of a central AI hub, would reduce weight on a long journey.

The best chance of carrying fauna and flora from earth to the stars would be in the modern equivalent of Noahs Ark; as seeds, eggs and sperm to be born on arrival at their destination; under the guidance of machines. So, AI would continue life on a new world, or be our legacy… 

.-…-.

 

Dreamscape has identified 27 possible targets to date, to which, in theory, small ships could be sent.  Given the right conditions oxygenating plants could improve the atmosphere until it is breathable, at which time, in theory, animals could be birthed, and I hope this might be accomplished one day.

Kevin Monaghan.

 

.-…-.

My dreams have ceased to be relevant to the program of late.  I dream of my younger days with Linda & the kids.  I don’t mind that because I recall them fondly.  I’ve dropped out of the program with gratitude from its members, and fervently hope the exciting programs for space travel will come to pass.  I know humanity will go on after I have gone.

I’m told they are working on the creation of ‘Warp Drive’ and the Casimir Effect, producing ‘Warp Bubbles’ using dark matter as fuel; they could in theory enable travel at 10x light speed, maybe more it's all beyond me. But they believe it could happen, Maybe not in my lifetime but, possibly by the 22nd Century…

 

Copyright Len Morgan

  

Friday, 31 July 2026

Dreamscape (part 2 of 3)

 Dreamscape (part 2 of 3) 

By Len Morgan


“Is there anything you would add to improve the amenities at this facility Kevin?”

“I’m into crafts, woodwork, painting, playing music, and I haven’t yet found the library…”

“Actually, all our books are now on computer, you can access any books, newspapers, music, quizzes, all on your consul over there in the corner. Turn it on and ask the AI librarian for what you want. You are already signed in. If you prefer paper books the AI will print them for you.”

“I’ve never been much of a sports man, but I would love to learn to play golf.  With all this money I’m earning I could afford to take up golf…”

“We will arrange an instructor for you.”

“Amazing!” I said ‘Am I dreaming?’ “Guess it’s dream time, I’d best get ready to dream…”

“Ah, that’s the surprise, they’ve completed the new observation dome, from it you will be able to view a greater area of sky, and it can be rotated to centre on our area of interest.  Follow me to your new sleeping quarters,” she said.

From a prone position, I would be able to view the sky magnified many times… “Will you be able to centre the circle as the earth moves?” I asked.

“That’s the clever part, the dome revolves to keep the target centralized,” she said.

“So what is our next target?”

“Uh, no pressure on you tonight, we are planning to test your limitations, by targeting a nearby star system 4.2 lightyears. It’s ‘Proxima Centori b’, we want you to view a rocky planet within its Goldilocks zone…”

“What is a light year anyway?”

“Light always travels at 5.88 trillion miles a year. But, you can do it in one night!”

“No pressure then,” I said.

.-…-. 

Next morning I went to the gymn to workout and splash around in the pool for half an hour. Then went for breakfast; porridge then a full English, and three glasses of milk, I’d never felt so hungry in my life.

Three men in white coats entered and approached my table.

“Good morning Gents, have you ordered?” I asked.

“Mr Monaghan…”

“Call me Kevin please,” I said.

“We’ve been observing you since you first arrived. You engaged in a much heavier exercise routine and you have consumed twice your normal calorie intake. How do you feel now?”

“Well, to be honest I still feel hungry, I was about to order another breakfast, Do I have to pay for extra’s?”

The spokesman smiled, “Of course not Kevin, after the trip you’ve just taken it’s quite understandable, 4.2 light years in a day?”

“Where’s Milli?” I asked.

“She has been reassigned…”

“I like Milli. Why is everybody being reassigned?”  I sniffed my armpit, “Is it me?”

“I’m afraid that is above my pay grade Kevin,” he said.

“Is there any point in me asking your name, or will you be reassigned?”

“My name is Jak, as to reassignment, I don’t know…”

“Don’t tell me, it above your pay grade Jak?”

“Quite!”

So I ordered A third English breakfast. “I would like to check my bank balance, so could you direct me to a terminal. I’d like to check that the money I’ve been promised has actually gone in.” At which point my breakfast arrived.

“There is a terminal available to you just as soon as you have finished your breakfast.”

“Thank you Jak.” I'm still famished so I tucked in and quaffed two mugs of coffee. “Tell me Jak are you a man or a cybertron?”

He smiled, neither confirming nor denying his status. “Milli as well?” I asked.

“What alerted you?” He asked.

 

Since retiring I had never imagined receiving £1000 a day free of tax.  I’d spent nothing, the balance was beyond my expectation, then I saw the date on the statement. “What is the date Jak?”

He answered immediately, “28th August 2056.”

“Then I’ve lost a day,” I said.

“No, you slept for 56 hours continuously, but the dreamscape only recorded the last 36hours; that is its upper limit. We thought to wake you in case you were in difficulties.”

“Why?”

“Your our only asset, and we love you...”

“A joke?  Ha ha, so you do have a sense of humour Jak.”

So, Dreamscape is subject to the passage of time, that’s interesting,’ I thought.

Jak cocked his head slightly left, “The director wishes to speak with you, it seems quite urgent!”

I closed down the portal and stood up, “lead the way Jak.”

“Please sit Kevin. I’ve received so sad news concerning your wife, Linda …”

“She has Alzheimer’s and stage 4 cancer…” I said.

“I'm afraid she passed away yesterday evening; please accept our condolences. Arrangements have been made for her burial in two days time, and travel has been arranged for you, and a car will be waiting at the front gate when you’re ready. Your flight will take off in two hours.  Take as long as you need to grieve.” 

.-…-. 

We took three days to mourn and settle Linda’s affairs. My life had been turned upside down.  We had shared some good memories, and some bad; very bad; since my retirement. The dogs welcomed me home, they were comforting. 

.-…-. 

On my return to Scotland, I felt guilty that I was not contributing enough to the workings of the community.  Since retiring I have become a pretty good cook, or I could be a cleaner, even a filing clerk, any roll that would justify my existence on the project anything rather than being a sponger which is how I currently feel. I requested a meeting with the director to let him know how I felt.

“I don’t want to be a spare part, I want to work in some capacity sir!”

“Let me assure you that you are contributing.  You are the only one so far that is giving our work meaning.  We have tested thousands of dreamscape gamers so far, and you are our only success to date.  You are providing us a window into the future of humanity. The search is worldwide but so far no other country has discovered an asset like you Kevin.”

“So how can I help with the day to day running?” I asked.

“I would suggest you look around and offer your services wherever you think it’s needed.”

“Will that be enough?”

“Honestly I don’t know Kevin, just give it a go and let me know how you are progressing.” He said.

“I’ll do it!” I said.

“The doctor feels that a weekly insulin patch is advisable, your other medication can also be extended to last a week…”

“Is there a new target for me sir?”

“Yes, but it would be a voluntary task; given that ‘Teegarten’s Star b’ is 12.5 light years away, it's potentially the nearest habitable exoplanet.  It’s 3 times the distance to Proxima Centauri; and that took you 2 days. This journey might take you 5-6 days.”

“I understand that at my age it could be a risk, but there is nobody else available,” I said.

“It’s your choice Kevin, I’ll not try to influence you. I’ll just say that you would be acting in the interest of all humanity.  The UK is not alone in this search. There are scientists the world over sharing in the knowledge we gleen from this research…”

“I’ll do it!”

At the hospital wing Dr Hussein explained the plan they had devised to ensure my safety, while placing a canular in my arm, “This will be used to feed nutrients to your body when necessary.”

That night in the dome, I was orientated towards ‘Teegartens b’.

“Good luck Kevin,” said Jak.”

“I smiled, “Thanks Jak.  Will you be here on my return, or will you be reassigned,” I asked.

“Who can say?” he said.

.-…-.

Three days later I resurfaced…

“It’s Milli, how are you feeling Kevin?”

“Would you believe tired?”

She laughed, “hold still while doctor Hussein removes your canular and checks you over.”

“Well Doc, am I still alive?”

He removed his stethoscope and said, “You’re as fit as an 80 year old,” he smiled.

“But I’m only 70 Doc,” I said alarmed at the implication.

“Heh heh! You must allow me my small wimsey. Your as fit as you were when you took your long sleep. Your body has responded well to medication so I’m happy to pronounce you fit for all normal activities.”

“I thought I would be starving hungry, but I’m Not!?  So I intend to exercise, swim, and eat breakfast in the canteen with my friend Milli! Any objections to that doc?”

“Go for it Kevin! You’ll live to be a hundred,” he laughed.

“Where’s Milli, where are my clothes?”

.-…-.

I was tucking into a delightful Fettuccini Alfredo, best I’ve ever had. Milli sat beside me.

“We’ve got one Kevin! Come view what you found on ‘Teegartens b’ it’s incredible…”

The Dreamscape recording was in colour; “never realized I dream in colour. Water was flowing over rocks stained with green and brown. That’s life Kevin, that’s water and there’s an atmosphere. We don’t know what the gases are but the water is H20, which means the exoplanet is definitely Earthlike, and ready for exploration, It’s so wonderful!” She kissed me, and I kissed her back...

“So what comes next?” I asked.

“We go to your old accommodation…” she looked into my eyes, and smiled.

At which point Jak joined us. “What news!” He said.

“The Director wants to see you,” he added.

I wiped my plate with a pulled slice of Pugliese bread, and we all headed for the directors office.

“They’ve told you the news!”

“Yes, so I guess you you wont need me around any more?”

“Are you resigning Kevin, you want a rise? I can justify doubling your

salary on the strength of this discovery,” He said.

“No! An increase would be very welcome but I’m quite happy…

“Doctor Hussein wants to run a full program of tests to ensure you will be able to keep up with the pace of our proposed schedule.”

.-…-.

“I’m ready Doc do your worst…”

“The thing is, you are our only reliable subject, so we have to keep you fit and healthy. We don’t want to overtax you.”

“I’ve been thinking about that problem. It seems to me that all the people you have been testing are Gamers, and under the age of 35. We olduns don’t have much interest in gaming.”

“What are you implying Kevin?”

“Well, I wasn’t a Gamer so you only found me by accident. My age group have a different mind set. Maybe widening your search would show results Doc?”

“I think we should run it by the director…”


(To be Continued)

 


Copyright Len Morgan

Saturday, 25 July 2026

Dreamscape ~ (1 of 3)

 Dreamscape ~ (1 of 3)

By Len Morgan 

In the 2050s the ‘Dreamscape Company’ began producing their mind recording headsets. Created as a medical tool for diagnosing brain dysfunction’s but, was quickly purloined by youngsters for the purposes of entertainment. They began recording their dreams and sharing them with friends. At 81 I had little interest, I’d seen fads come and go. Dreamscape was yet another new fangled fad but, my grandkids insisted that I try it!  The headset itself was similar to the swimming hats used by women back in the 1960~80s.  It was a snug fit with holes for ears. To be honest It felt claustrophobic. But, they plied me with my favourite tipple, Whiskey Mac’s, and suddenly I became more amenable. 

The headset was a little uncomfortable but like all aches and pains, at my age, I got used to it and slept soundly. Apparently the recorder picked up my dreams and sent them to the ‘cloud’.  I wasn’t even aware that I had been dreaming.  The kids’ reactions were disappointing, whatever the headset recorded was ‘boring’ to them; and they said as much. So, I returned to my TV and forgot about the event, knowing the kids wouldn’t be asking for a repeat performance. 

A few days went by and I’d almost wiped it from my mind, getting on with life. I lay on the bed with Linda, my wife, watching reruns of oldies on her ‘wall screen’ TV.  I thought I heard the phone or the door bell.

My old ‘Alexa box’ informed me “There somebody at the front door.”  The dogs were barking, I must have been dozing, because they woke Linda up. “Are you going to answer that Kev?” she said.

I peeped through the spy hole. It was a young woman and an older man in a suit and tie; ‘Jehova’s Witnesses’ I thought, and opened the door… “We’re Muslims,” I said.

“Isn’t everybody?” The young woman replied.

“Whatever you’re selling we’re not buying,” I said.

“We are not sales persons Kevin,” the man said.

 “So what do you want?  I’m in the middle of preparing lunch for my wife and the Rotweillers…”

The young woman smiled, “you appear to be under a misapprehension…”

“Thank goodness, It thought it was a roof…”

“I gather you are both retired,” she continued unfazed, “can we come in and speak?  It’s a little cold out here…”

“At your own risk, the dogs are mighty hungry, as you can hear.”

“I’ll open the side gate and let you through into the back yard, but keep your eyes peeled for messages; I’ll just close the door.”

 I opened the gate and led them down to the summer house. “Now how can I help you?”

“We are a consortium of planetologists, astrophysicists, and cosmologists.  We are all Astronomers, keen to find a planet that could in the future provide a second home for humanity…” she said.

“So, what is wrong with Earth?”

“We are trying to find a second home if needed.”

“There is a danger in continuing as a one planet race. If a catastrophic event, should happen we would all be wipe out,” the man said.

“But what about the cities in space, the moon colony, they would survive,” I said.

“Maybe not!  They all need resources that can only come from Earth.”

“Mars?”

“We just don’t know if it could be ‘self sufficient’ in the long term, without support from Earth,” she said.

“Well, I’m no scientist, what can I do about it?” I asked.

“That remains to be seen Kevin, My name is Clive and my associate is Alesia.  We have AI programs constantly trawling the ‘cloud’ for likely leads, and our attention has been drawn to a recording of your dreamscape. It may prove to be nothing but, we have to investigate all avenues you understand…?”

“To be honest, No!”

“Then let me explain, our research AI’s are looking for dreamscapes with certain parameters.  They are bookmarked for follow-ups,” Clive explained.

 “So how am I involved?  Whatever I dream is my own affair. As far as I know there is no such thing as ‘the mind police’, so I can’t be charged for my thoughts; YET!”

“It’s not like that Kevin, we’ve told you what we do. It isn’t just a job to us, it’s our vocation,” Alesia explained.

“So, I’m at a loss; what do you want from me Alesia?”

“Tell us what you were thinking about before you fell asleep?”

I looked at her, then up at the ceiling. “Mmm.”  My eyes lit up and I smiled. “Yes, I laid back on my left side because that way the headset was more confortable.  I was looking out of the window, at the sky.  The clouds cleared and I could see the stars, a red star was twinkling, as I drifted off I thought it could be Mars…”

She nodded encouragingly.

“Then nothing until I woke up.  Oh, the kids brought me tea and toast but they were disappointed, they said it was just blurry grey mist nothing exciting.”

Clive and Alesia were now looking excited. Clive said “our equipment is a little more sophisticated, we were able to bring those blurry pictures into focus…”

Alesia interrupted him in her excitement, “we were able to see Mars station 1 with familiar rocky cliffs in the background.”

“Ah!  But I’ve seen Mars base 1 on TV…”

“That would not have been a live-stream, what we saw in your dreamscape included a recently arrive rocket from Earth. It was no memory you conjured up from your subconscious, it was the real thing, we weren’t even aware the rocket had reached Base 1 until the morning after your dream was recorded.”

“But, there has to be an explanation!  It must have been a coincidence what can I do to prove it?” 

“There is a simple answer Kevin, we want you to come to our lab for one week, we can try to recreate the same circumstances.  As a test we can start by repeating your Mars dreamscape, then we’ll know if it is or isn’t a coincidence.  If it works we can proceed with Dreamscapes of the moon, Venus & Saturn, all will be in the sky over the next week,” Clive explained.”

“To be honest, I think you’re wasting your time and mine, but I must ask, what’s in it for me?”

“Well, we could pay £500?” said Alisia.

“Make it £1,000 and I’ll do it!”

“Okay it’s £1,000 a day for as long as you stay…”

A day?’ I recovered my senses, “That sounds acceptable.”

“If we can repeat the experiment, we will need a month of your time…” she said.

“But there is one problem, my wife Linda is bed ridden, and I’m her carer.  She needs regular attention and the dogs…” as if prearranged a bell rang… “She needs me, I won’t be a moment.” I saw to her needs. I explained to Linda that I had visitors. 

“What’s her name Kevin!”

“Alesia and Clive…”

“Which one is she!” Linda yelled.

“I’ll explain later love, right now I just need to get rid of them.”

I returned to the summer house.  “Sorry about that,” I smiled.

“We can arrange for a 24 hour care nurse while you’re with us, and a handler to care for your dogs?” 

The nurse arrived within two hours, and the dog handler soon after.

I packed a bag with clothing for a week’s stay, plus a week’s supply of meds, just in case.  To my surprise they had arrived in a chauffer driven hire car.

“I’m not impressed by flash cars,” I said.

Clive smiled, “We are heading to Stansted airport.  Our unit is in Scotland. The flight will take about an hour.”

It wasn’t business class either, a private jet with seating for seven passengers.  We were accompanied by two teenagers, a boy and a girl; they ignored us.

“We will be stopping off briefly at Ringway to pick up another gamer,” he explained. 

The pickup was a man in his mid 30s.  We had lunch & drinks; I alone had Pepsi.

“So, what games do you play?” Jason asked conversationally.

“Space Invaders, and Chess” I said, which ended our conversation.

.-…-. 

Their Lab was like a Hospital ward.  White walls and floors, a glass ceiling looking out into the open sky. A clear, dark, cloudless sky, with no reflected light. White gowned nurses, quiet and efficient, knew exactly what had to be done. Each bed was encased in a cube of non reflective smokey glass.  The Headsets were so lightweight, when worn, they could barely be felt; so different from those the kids had.

I lay on my bed aligned so that Mars was clearly visible.  I drifted off to sleep after half an hour, remembering nothing until I woke up.  We were served breakfast, a great variety was available, but I’ve always preferred two soft boiled eggs with toast soldiers, followed by porridge with freshly squeezed orange juice. As I tucked in, Alesia sat down beside me. 

“Was there anything that you did prior to sleeping when you did your first dreamscape?”

“Yes, the kids oiled me with ‘whiskey mac’s.”

“Thank you,” she said.

That night she plied me with several whiskey mac’s.  Once again Mars was prominent in the sky.  Next morning Clive and Alesia joined me at breakfast. 

“We’ve viewed the dreamscape recording from last night, and the whiskey mac’s worked Kevin!” She smiled, “We got detail we would never have dreamed of (excuse the pun).” 

“You are an incredible resource Kevin,” Clive enthused. 

“We need your bank details for your salary, we will also pay your Tax,” Alesia assured me.

That evening I was to look at Venus, but clouds intervened so instead I turned my attention to the moon. Both were delighted with the results.

On the fourth day Saturn was in my sky view. Again I remembered nothing, but Clive and Alisia were delighted with the results.

On the fifth day I again looked at Venus, on the sixth my target was to be the ‘asteroid belt’.  I couldn’t imagine what use that would be but hey, at £1,000 a day, why would I complain?

“We need to establish the limits of your talent,” Alesia said, “can you imagine what an asteroid is made of?”

“To be honest, no…”

“Thank you, good.  So, when you cast your mind out there you will have no preconceptions.” 

.-…-. 

Day seven, at breakfast, I thought I might sample kidneys and coddled eggs for a change.

“Very clear records of several asteroids and some smaller rocks, interesting colours.  How did you manage to light them up in your dream?”

“To be honest I don’t have a clue.”

“Mmm, maybe we could get you to view the other side of the moon. If we aim you at it, you could survey the visible side then skirt round to the reverse.”

“That’s not a bad plan, planting the suggestion in my mind might jog my subconscious. We shall see; or rather you will see, In the morning.”

Day 8, “Alesia how did it go?”

“Quite good. But, you didn’t illuminate the dark side, I think your mind is beginning to deviate.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s not unusual for a subject to wander into other area’s, when divorced from their normal everyday routine, It isn’t uncommon, for their thoughts to wander away from the astral plane. In short, you’re outside life is encroaching.”

“What can I do to correct it?”

“You need to take a couple of days off.  Go home, take Linda out for a meal, take her to a show or the cinema, catch up on local news and family life in general.”

“What should I tell my friends and family about this place; and where is Clive haven’t seen him since we arrived?”

“Clive is on another project, we are building a new Dreamscape viewing dome for stage 2 of our project.  So, go home, spend some time with Linda & the family.  Return refreshed for stage 2.

.-…-.

I returned a week later, refreshed an ready for anything they might throw at me.  I headed to my dorm unpacked and fifteen minutes passed before a new young woman knocked and entered, “are you decent?”

“Well, as you can see I’m totally naked!  Just kidding.  I was expecting Alesia,” I said.

“She’s on another project, I’m Marigold, I’ll be your handler until she returns,” she offered her hand and I shook it.

“Well me flower, I’m sure we’ll get on just fine.”

“Well I’ve never heard that one before; but Marigold is a little formal, most people call me Mari…”

“Okay Mari, so why the change?”

“Horses for courses, we all have our own specialities.” She smiled, “I have a questionnaire for you…”

“Fire away,” I said.

“How is your accommodation?”

“No complaints, the food is excellent, but I do miss a few regulars…”

“If you list them I’ll ensure they are added to your menu Kevin.”

“How do you find the facilities, gym, pool, & games rooms?”

“They are excellent, I use the gym & pool daily, helps me unwind after a hard nights sleep.  I’m not much of a gamer, but the bar is excellent.”

(To be Continued)

Copyright Len Morgan


Monday, 22 June 2026

Emotions 01 ~ homework (Flash fiction 600 words)


 Emotions  ~ homework (Flash fiction 600 words)

By Len Morgan 

I saw Michelle in Tesco’s today.  I thought I’d put all of that behind me.  I thought I was free of her; I’d cried until I was all drained out; I felt empty, yet every time I thought of her, tears leaked from my eyes again, and my brain became overwhelmed by the hurt and anger. After ten months, I thought she couldn’t possibly hurt me any more. But, the pain still returns every time I think of her, thoughts and memories are things I now have to guard against. 

   Then in Tesco’s she looked directly at me, her expression was blank, there was no recognition in her eyes.  We’d been a couple for two years, then she met her Ex, Bruce, and it was as if we’d never met, never shared our private secrets, never shared intimate moments of love.  

   She didn’t tell me she was breaking up with me, she just stopped answering my calls, never explained that I was just an infatuation, just cut me off!  Pictures of us together were deleted from her ‘Face Book Page’ replaced by pictures of her, Bruce, and their child. That was before she blocked me completely from her face book.  I watched her as she left the store; Bruce was outside with the baby in a buggy. 

   After nine months, in limbo I thought I was over her.  I even believed I could start dating someone else, but now I’m crying myself to sleep again.  It didn’t help when I met her friend Valerie who mentioned that she’d met Michelle in the high street.  She said Michelle had a baby in a buggy, she looked pale and had a bruise on her cheek. Then Valerie delivered the killer blow, she said the baby was the spitting image of me…

 

Copyright Len Morgan

Monday, 25 May 2026

Spirit & Flesh! (500 word ~ Flash fiction)

Spirit & Flesh!   (500 word ~ Flash fiction) 

By Len Morgan

My Scars are evidence that I’m fallible.  I’ve been injured many times, yet always I have survived.  I have beaten faster men, better men, and stronger men.  I beat them because I am too blind stupid to know when I'm beaten! As time passes they begin to doubt; their confidence evaporates; their strength starts to wane, their mind allows vulnerability in.  Then their imagination starts working overtime and they begin to fear.  From then on, their days are numbered.  But, I’m getting older, and slower.  It's just a matter of time…

If killing is wrong then why do I feel so exulted with each cutting thrust of my sword?

Spirit & Flesh! 

The Spirit is immortal and so has eternity in which to enjoy the finer things; beauty of thought and deed; with ample time to contemplate them to the full. 

The Flesh knows it has but a short span on earth. Time in which to taste the riches and pleasures of life: greed, gain, and lust, three of the hungers to be sated in life.  It wants to experience everything in full measure, caring only for its own existence:  The Joy of Life!

Copyright Len Morgan

Tuesday, 10 February 2026

My Life (in 300 words)

 My Life (in 300 words)

Len Morgan 

I joined a group in the 1950s as their vocalist. We played rock (Elvis, Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran, etc) all the pop stuff from the US & UK. 

 I still amuse myself (at home) with 1940~60s stuff plus Folk, Country Western, Blues, Comedic Tales, Old not so well known songs.

So, my question is, where's the market for that stuff these days? I'm 81, don't have transport, other than the bus. 

I play an acoustic guitar (Yamaha APXT2) & Sing the music I love. I have a list of 400+ songs I could sing & play 10 years ago, but find I can't remember the words to all of them now (thank you, YouTube; for the mind jogs). 

 I live in an expanding town in the UK, Hullbridge, Essex, England... 

I think that's about all I can say, if you think I should add more ~ Answers on a postcard!    (if anybody remembers them.) 

I’m also a writer, and member of the Rayleigh library writers group:

http://RLWG2020.blogspot.com 

I run the blog and regularly contribute stories but not as regularly as I did in past years.  124,618 visits to date and we’ve posted 1370 stories & poems.  We have visitors from all over the world, except from Australia & Canada, curious why? 

I’m a mediocre painter in all mediums, but I enjoy the crack (craic), at the Windermere Centre Art group, in Hullbridge. 

We have seven (7) Chihuahua’s, who bring joy to our lives, 2 boys (Milo & Jack) & 5 girls (Lilly, Saffy, Ruby, Poppy, & Truffles).  We take walks with them, weather permitting.  But I’m limited by hardened arteries (arterial sclerosis). I used to love walking, ten years ago, now I have to take 2 mins rest every 100yds, guess that’s life but ~ I’m still here…

 Len 😉😌

 

 

 

Wednesday, 31 December 2025

Erulan of Goss

 Erulan of Goss

By Len Morgan 

He was young, resourceful, and a fully paid up member of the “Goss Purloiners Guild.”  Erulan was licensed to acquire and fence, illicit goods, through the guild at the advantageous rate of 10%.

He was seventeen,  5’ 10”, wiry and muscular, with dark shoulder length hair flowing loosely in the wind. He was Intelligent, and well aware of the effect his perfect white teeth, and dark hazel eyes, had on the female sex. 

He could enrapture listeners with endless yarns. He needed to hear a story once to grasp its nuances, mannerisms, and the basic story line. He could then mimic the teller well enough to deceive his family and friends.  Women, of all casts, were drawn to and captivated by his charm. The resulting nocturnal liaisons were the source of countless pursuits across the rooftops of Goss; he had, in the past, escaped parents, irate husbands, and wild eyed suitors. 

He’d secreted money, weapons, and disguises in various bolt holes, through out the city, to aid him in his clandestine escapades.  Indiscretions were not his only reason for creating elaborate escape plans.  Erulan, a resourceful and successful thief, despite his age had amassed a tidy fortune at the expense of others.   There wasn’t a wall he couldn’t scale nor a lock he couldn’t pick in under a minute.  The Guild-master called him arrogant and cocksure, but liked him regardless, being reminded of himself at that age, there was no denying the boy’s talent.  His attitude put many backs up which was why, he assumed, he was now being pursued across the city, by a pod of stalkers from the “Assassin’s Guild”. 

  He was aware, there were two assassins tailing, him but he was more concerned with locating the third.  There would be two to harass and harry, whilst the third lay in wait somewhere up ahead.  He could sense they were herding him towards the Eastern gate so decided upon a detour, through a sprawl of dilapidated burned out ruins. He would head for the South wall of the city where he had a little surprise in store for them. He stopped, looking back anxiously he took a drink from his water flask. He bent to replace it in his pack, he heard a thud and on straightening he discovered a stiletto, throwing knife, imbedded in the door post level with his head. He briefly saw movement in his peripheral vision as the assassin moved on to a fall back location. 

“Oh you’re good!” Erulan whispered, ‘and expensive I’ll be bound,’ he mused, ‘so what have I done to warrant such specialist attention I wonder?’

He looked down at the ruby ring on the middle finger of his left hand; it had been hidden, in his clenched fist, until now. It began to glow red and pulse as he entered the burned out area.  The ring was a recent acquisition he’d purloined from the room of a visiting priestess.  It was shaped like a five pointed star, and now pulsed with an inner fire. He placed it in his belt pouch, but it glowed through the thick calico.  He wrapped it in coarse linen, until it was hardly visible, then he headed towards the Southern wall of the city.  But, as he passed an undamaged doorway something told him to enter, as he did so a crossbow quarrel hit the door jamb where his head had been. He didn’t understand why, but he had twice avoided certain death; coincidence?  He didn’t believe in coincidence; his pouch was now glowing red, no longer pulsating, he took out the ring. Its light revealed an incised shape on the wall at head height just inside. He compared the shape to the ruby; he reoriented the stone to match it. Then somehow the stone was drawn into the shape, and his surroundings changed abruptly; he was now at the South wall; his destination!?

The ring had lost its glow, ‘magic!’ he thought a cold streak of fear coursed down his spine at the realisation... ‘Why did I rob a priestess, was I mad’?  At once he knew ~ this was why he was being pursued.  His first thought was to return the ring, which would make sense. But, he was now miles away from her lodging house and he was being chased by a pod of stalkers, when those hounds took an assignment they would keep on his trail, until they kill him no matter how long it took them.  His only chance was to hunt them down and wipe them out… He had funds and weapons stashed close by, his course was clear ‘kill or be killed’. 

What do I need, Weapons and funds.  I can’t return the way I came so I’ll head for the Eastern gate, where the third hound will be waiting. The best route would be the aerial road, around the wall and then across the rooftops. He climbed the South wall and travelled toward the East gate, and then crossed over to the rooftops.  The best view point would be from the gatehouse above the gate.  He retraced his steps and traversed back to the wall. 

Good plan,’ he thought and made his way towards the gatehouse. The area where he planned to wait was in deep shadow, but as he approached he froze, he’d seen a glint of movement within the shadow area. That must be number three.  Has he seen me? He crouched low so as not to give ‘3’ a target, then felt the wind from a quarrel as it passed; a near miss he could turn to his advantage “Aagh!” He screamed then lay silent removing a knife from his belt.  He lay there for minutes but nothing happened. He was about to make a move, when ‘3’ moved first. ‘Of course he would have to confirm the kill and return the ring to its owner,’ he reasoned.

“You’re a dead man, that quarrel was tipped with blaqero poison."  He waited. Erulan lay there unmoving. ‘3’ waited, to be sure the poison had taken effect, then he approached and leaned over, knife in hand. Erulan’s blade stabbed deep into 3's chest, his fingers lost their grip on his blade and it fell; the tip grazed Erulan’s neck…

“Bastard!” He yelled in frustration, then looked over the parapet to see if anyone had heard his cry. He saw two men look up, and head for the steps to the gatehouse.  Erulan headed to where ‘3’ had been waiting. He picked up the crossbow and quarrels and aimed at the gatehouse steps. The first headed in his direction. As the second topped the steps, Erulan shot him. He died in silence, so the first was unaware of his fate until the second quarrel took him in the head.

Erulan’s vision was becoming blurred, so he dropped the bow and took an astringent pad from his kit and applied it to his neck, reasoning that No.3 wouldn’t use fatal poison on his blades in case he accidentally cut himself or a member of his pod.  Then he retreated rapidly along the wall and over the rooftops.  It might be days before the bodies were found, but he still didn’t know what, if any, poison had been on that third assassin's blade.  He knew a pod had three members, so It would be a while before the priestess set another on his trail. He returned to the place where he’d originally used the ring, and thought of the room where the priestess was lodging.

.-...-.

“I thought you would return once you sighted the pod. I’m surprised you are not dead. I am Mayli…”   

“Erulan,” he said, “I’m afraid your stalkers are dead. I hope you weren’t too fond of them…”

“Let me see that wound. His blade was tipped with a paralysis brew, you were lucky to get here before it took full effect. Ah just a scrape, you’ll live to tell the tale.” She removed a small leather purse from a pocket in her robe, she opened it and removed a ring, matching the one he was still wearing, his was glowing red, Mayli’s ring was glowing green. “They are twinned you see,” she placed it on the middle finger of her left hand. “I will have need of your services, in a sense you now belong to me and will do my bidding for as long as you are needed.”

He tried to remove the ring from his finger, but it was immovable.” What witchery is this?”

“You will need to cut off your finger to gain your freedom,” she said and smiled.

“So what do you want of me?”

“Unlike your many conquests, I have no need of your body.  It's your talents I require; so you are free to go for now, but when you're needed, you will know…”

 

Copyright Len Morgan

 

 


 

Wednesday, 10 December 2025

Accelerated Growth ( 300 Words)

 Accelerated Growth.

By Len Morgan


  It started in 2017 with Brexit and the disastrous crop failures across Europe and the resulting shortages in our shops.  Our Government decided we could not afford to be caught with our pants down again.  So the UK Agro-Science community was put to work.  In just a few short months it resulted in the development of the Accelerated Growth Hormone (AGH), to increase the growth rate of vegetation, allowing us to grow crops in days rather than weeks.  There were the usual protest marches through the major cities of London, Liverpool, Manchester, Cardiff & Birmingham, demanding that we slow down and carry out clinical trials before using AGH commercially.  But we didn't listen even when the SNP threatened yet another vote for Scottish independence...

AGH was such a boon, plants grew at vastly increased rates and AGH was relatively cheap to produce so, it was broadcast on the land as fertilizer. 

Within months we were selling AGH to other countries, and distributing it free gratis to third world countries; benevolent souls that we were. 

Five years on, we learned the folly of it all.  AGH was ingested by animals, birds, insects, microbes, all showed signs of accelerated growth.  In addition, they displayed accelerated speed. 

Flying insects displayed increased metabolism.  They were able to out fly their predators, as a result many bird species initially began to die off, then they stabilized and began to catch up.  At the same time, rapid aging signs were witnessed, at which point the use of AGH was banned in the UK, EU, and the USA.  But, other Nations had their own agenda...

 .-...-.

Have you noticed how fast your grandchildren are growing up?  Always on the move, quick thinking, fast action, is it what I think or, is it just old age catching up on me?

Copyright Len Morgan 


Wednesday, 19 November 2025

Uncle Thomas (300 Words)

 Uncle Thomas (300 Word Flash Fiction)

By Len Morgan 


I look down from above, “Is that me Dad?” I asked.

“Yes Son.” 

My face looked pale against the white sheets and pillow case, “Am I dead?”

“That’s up to you son.” 

I stood beside him and another man about my age, who looked vaguely familiar, “Who’s he?” I asked.

“That’s your Uncle Thomas.”

“Will I live?” 

“If you do, ask Mum about Uncle Thomas.” 

“You died Dad, so is he…” 

He nodded “Iraq war, 2004. He was buried same year Mum and I got married.” 

.-…-.

An alarm sounded! A defibrillator was placed on my chest and discharged three times. My eyes opened and I looked up into a pair of concerned brown eyes. 

“He’s back Doctor,” She smiled reassuringly, “you’re back with us Mr Quinell” 

“Can I speak to him?” It was mum’s voice.

“Be brief, he needs to rest,” said the nurse. 

“You really gave us a scare passing out, without warning, like that!”

“What happened mum?”

“The Doctor says you had a mild cardiac arrest. When it happened I called an ambulance and administered CPR, thank goodness I did my First Aid course, they say I saved your life…” 

“Thanks Mum. It may sound a strange question but, who was Uncle Thomas?”

She went pale, I thought she was going to cry, then she smiled, her face took on a far away look; she was remembering… 

“Thomas was your father’s younger brother. We were to be married, but he was a soldier and the Gulf war happened so he was posted to Iraq. I was pregnant at the time. We had planned to marry on his return but, he never came back. When I told Rick (Dad) he immediately proposed to me.” 

“What was your answer?” 

She smiled and slapped me on the back, “cheeky bugger!”

 

Copyright Len Morgan

Monday, 12 May 2025

Better Go Home

 Better Go Home

Author Unknown

Well you say you’re gonna cut me, put me six feet under.

Better listen to me buddy, to what I’ve got to say.

I aint a bad man, that’s plain to see,

But bad men don’t mess around with me

 

Well I’m fresh out of prison, ten years in San Quentin

Lost my wife & family, I don’t feel so nice!

So before you reach fer that blade,

I didn’t do that time just for shooting dice.

 

I wasn’t lookin fer trouble, I never do.

But the man I killed acted just like you.

Well I had a little boy like the one you’ve got

Though you aint much, I guess you’re all he’s got

 

So you better go home, just walk away

Better go home and throw that blade away.

Better go home and throw that blade away,

Better go home - and throw that blade - away!

 

I learned this song in the 1960s, from an old reel2reel tape recording found at a friend’s house.  I don’t know the artist or the author.  And I’ve long ago lost contact with my friend. 

If anyone can enlighten me, as to its origins, I would be obliged!

 

It has occurred to me that if it were reissued, it might give a stern warning to kids about the folly of carrying knives…

 

Len