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Wednesday, 13 May 2020

WHAT IF? (Part 1of 3)


                                                                                                                                                       

WHAT IF? (Part 1of 3)                                                 


By Richard Banks

Sarlek peered into the monitor and observed the launch of another missile. It was the third in as many weeks. The Americans would again threaten reprisals but with their second fleet already in the Sea of Japan, it was becoming obvious, even to the hawks in the Pentagon, that military bluster was not enough. Indeed the threat of force seemed only to energise and embolden the North Korean leadership.    
         Equally impervious to diplomacy and economic sanctions they continued to develop their weaponry in the belief that the Americans would not invade a country that in the past had enjoyed the unwavering support of their neighbour and superpower, China. For now the Chinese appealed to both sides for calm and restraint. Only through them was a diplomatic solution possible but their unpublicised attempts to broker a deal with the Korean regime had been politely, but firmly, dismissed. No longer a client state of China, North Korea was a proud and independent nation; in an unfriendly world, they heeded only the voice of their supreme leader, Kim Jong-un.
                        
         Privately the Chinese had no more liking for their troublesome neighbour than the United States did but, should the Americans attempt to invade Korea, China would have no option but to send in its own troops. The U.S. could not be trusted. Their occupation of Iraq had destabilised that country and those around it, the same could not be allowed to happen on their doorstep. If necessary the Americans would have to be stopped by force. The army had made its plans and was ready for action.

         Sarlek turned away from the monitor and stared out the window at the two moons of Haligan. Below them, the neon signs of the City’s nightspots were beginning to light up the gathering gloom. Soon he would be meeting Mia at Maxi’s and, for a few hours, the problems of planet earth would seem less daunting. It would be better in the morning he told himself. Why let it spoil his evening. His shift was over, time he was gone. The walk to Maxi’s would do him good, clear his head. Who knows, the solution might occur in a eureka moment when his mind was relaxed, half thinking of other things. He had turned off his terminal, he must now turn-off his mind. What would be, would be. He could only do his best.

         Happy hour was nearly over when he arrived at Maxi’s; just enough time to order a double Gurgleblaster for himself and an Andromedan rice wine for Mia. He looked forward to her arrival. As usual, she would have much to say. With her, there were no awkward silences, no struggle to find common ground. She was open, uncomplicated, said what she thought and never said anything that was spiteful or uncaring. At times she sparkled with good humour and he would forget his fascination for the curvaceous wiggle girls of Alterbyracticous.
         By the standards of her own species, Mia was only moderately attractive but Sarlek saw much in her appearance that he liked. In fact, the more he looked the more he liked. He admired her lithe figure, the green luminosity of her skin, her long serpent neck. When he looked into her single eye, at the sapphire circles that filled it, he sensed a beauty that was more than physical. She was kind, clever and for some reason liked him more than he liked himself. She was also extremely punctual and in one minute precisely would be making her entrance through the open doors of the City’s most visited nightspot. His negativity about his working day was almost gone. He glanced down at his watch and then at the entrance through which an increasing number of different life forms were passing. He counted down the seconds to her arrival and on one saw her squeeze past the broad expanse of a Tritonian Gobblebug.

         She greeted Sarlek with an effusive, “wot yer,” and dropped down beside him onto the sofa where they had sat on their first date. He purred his appreciation and they rubbed noses. She was of a species that also enjoyed kissing but the razor-sharp incisors within his large mouth rendered such an undertaking hazardous and was therefore banned under galactic law, 471,054. She took consolation in the lack of regulation concerning the rest of his body, particularly the well-exercised muscles of his upper torso.
         They touched glasses and for a few moments savoured their scented drinks. She apologised for nearly being late; a large birthday cake on a flying plate had collided with the hover bus on which she was a passenger, leaving the bus immobile and the driver immersed in cream topping. She had meant this to be amusing, as indeed it was, but Sarlek immediately showed his concern by throwing a protective arm around her shoulders. This was not what she was expecting but fully accorded with her hopes for the evening. She drew close to him. Through the translucent, soft-weave of his shirt she could feel the rapid beating of his heart.
         “Oh, it was nothing,” she murmured and then, with a dash of melodrama, “I have survived.”
His grip tightened to the point that she thought it prudent to change the subject.
         “How’s the job going? Solved the problems of Planet Earth?”
         He raised the pupils of both eyes to a point where neither could be seen. He was only partially successful in suppressing a groan. “Why don’t you tell me about your day.”
         She began with the ringing of her alarm clock and finished with her stepping off the bus and running full tilt towards Maxi’s clutching her high heels and handbag. As usual he listened attentively. She was funny, full of energy. Her day had been as humdrum as his own, possibly as irksome, but for her, there was nothing that couldn’t be made amusing or interesting. She saw only the colours of the spectrum, the blacks and greys she left to those with careworn faces. She looked down at her watch and to her horror found she had been speaking for ten minutes. The poor man must be bored stiff, she thought, but the expression on his face suggested otherwise. She remembered that his mother had been unwell. “Was she better now?” she asked.
         He replied that she was and that a sample of her vomit had been sent away for analysis. He was about to say that it was frothy and green in colour when it occurred to him that these were details not conducive to a romantic evening. Instead, he volunteered the unrequested information that his father’s health which was good continued so. Indeed he could not remember a time when it had not been good.
         “You must miss them?” said Mia, “so far away on the other side of the galaxy. Will you see them again this year?”
         He replied that it depended on his present assignment. If he was able to bring the crises on Earth to a successful conclusion he would be awarded two extra stripes and sent even further from home to the Strategic Command Station on Alpha Venturous. If on the other hand, the situation on Earth should further deteriorate his career in the Diplomatic Core would be over, six years of his life wasted. His father would not be pleased.
         “But there are other jobs,” said Mia, perhaps you could get one here on Haligan. The Governor’s Office is always advertising for admin bods. You could be a tax collector or a town planner.”
         As good ideas went, this one, she thought, was better than most. Alpha Venturous was so far away. If he went there they might never see each other again. Besides, Alpha was a dangerous place on the frontier of a war zone. Who in their right mind would want to go there? Clearly, she had to save him from himself, or was it for herself? She wasn’t quite sure. Either way, it was better he stayed.
         Sarlek briefly considered the prospect of a job in colonial administration and felt a despondency bordering on despair. He was a high flier, a serial achiever. He had never settled for second best, why should he now? He needed another drink.
         Mia watched him at the bar waiting to be served. He was wearing his poker face. She liked him better when he smiled, when he was relaxed, at ease. She realised this could not be all the time, that sometimes he would frown, be cross, even angry. That she could cope with. They were clouds to be chased away and she was good at that. But when he wore that face, that impenetrable shield, he shut himself off from the world and part of that world was herself.

To Be Continued/...
Copyright Richard Banks

Tuesday, 12 May 2020

Oh Yes


Oh Yes


By Shelley Miller

Oh yes, that man is all I want,
I told him that already.
I wore a dress from Mary Quant
And said "undress me Freddie"

He said I was a trendy beaut,
Too stylish for his liking,
So I showed up in me old tracksuit
And off we went hitchhiking.

Oh yes, that man, he makes me swoon,
He has a way about him.
Me mum said " not too much too soon,
If he tries his luck, just clout him".

He said he had a way with words
And his heart was full of love.
He said he used to chase the birds
Now he's settled for a Dove.

Oh yes, that man is very fit,
He doesn't own a car.
He bought me a banana split
And said we could go far.

We walked six miles, me bunion throbbed,
Me knees had had enough.
I said "hold on, me corn's been cobbed
And I think I'm up the duff"

Oh yes, that man is all I need,
He took it on the chin,
We found a pub in record speed
And he downed a triple gin.

Me mum said "now I told you Jean,
He won't be round for long".
But I said "I do" in Gretna Green,
This time, mum got it wrong.

Copyright Shelley Miller


The Gathering


The Gathering


















By Dawn Van Win
                        
‘Twas All Hallows on that night
When at the beach I saw a sight
That stirred emotions raw and mixed
I stood there watching quite transfixed 
Was I 
By this strangest sight
Of women dancing in the night
By moon so full
In nature’s thrall
They had no clothes on
None at all!

Initial thoughts of fear and dread
Gave way to something else instead
When once I may have run and hid
I thought I’d join them
So I did

They welcomed me with open arms 
The sea it beckoned deep and calm
And so we stepped into the brine
The moon continuing to shine
It’s wondrous light 
on spirits free
All gathered in the name of She

These mothers, daughters, sisters too
All with an inner calling knew
To come here to this wildest place
And dance and laugh and raise a face
Up to that gentle silver light
All shame and doubt had taken flight

And so on Hallow’s Eve each year
All of those tales of dread and fear
Of vampires, bats and walking dead
Are just a veil placed to distract
The masses 
from this simple fact
That while some gather to trick or treat
And shuffle up and down the streets
A smaller group, perhaps a few
Who knows exactly what to do
Are summoned by our Mother Nature 
To seek a wild place for adventure 

So if your granny, daughter, mum
Pops out the door with errands to run
And it seems late, the witching hour
Don’t make her wait, 
She feels the power 
of this time, this special eve
When of her senses she may leave

And though you may not recognise
This fiery light behind her eyes
One usually so meek and mild 
She has an inner, wilder child

It isn’t that her nature’s switched
It’s just her inner, knowing witch!


Copyright Dawn Van Win 


The Room


The Room


By Peter Woodgate

One hand on the doorknob
The latch I then slide
As bravely I open
And survey the inside.

A fire in the grate
A soft rug on the floor
A guard in the hearth
But what is this for?

My gaze wanders aimlessly
Searching around
My heart remains chilled
For this room lacks the sound.

Of the voice, that once, could right all wrongs
Soothing my troubled brow
And a smile that would say everything is ok
That was then, but alas, not now.

She has gone, my light, my saviour
I stand alone in this room we would share
I try to remember the good times
a vision of her standing there.

But despite the flame, it isn’t the same
This room where I stand and stare,
A stark realization of what now remains
just some boots and a hat on the chair.

Copyright Peter Woodgate

Monday, 11 May 2020

A Kiss


A Kiss

By Shelley Miller

Why oh why must she persist
In pouting lips that charm a kiss
from him?
It only makes her hunger
for his roaming hands to wander
limb to limb.

Why oh why will she not see
The joys of love are ephemeral and he knows,
His touch is in her mind and when
it's open wide she blossoms like a rose.

It's beautiful, it has no end,
His kiss will keep on leading her astray,
But his smile is so inviting and he knows
She'll stay with him another day.

Copyright By Shelley Miller


Flamingo Podnyalsya Ch 4


Flamingo Podnyalsya Ch 4

CHAPTER 4

By Phil Miller

Chris had been an IT consultant for a large American communications company and was very good at what he did. His IQ was 135 and there was absolutely nothing he did not know about computers. For most people, a career in this industry would have been just fine, but not for Chris. He wanted more and knew the only way to get what he wanted was to work for himself; find a niche market.

That was when the problems started. There had been a recession and people were losing their jobs left, right and centre. Sara was in a permanent state of existential angst and it was affecting their relationship. They had been trying for a baby but it was proving difficult so they decided to consult a gynaecologist and were both devastated when told that Sara was infertile. After many clinical appointments and discussions on courses of treatment, they opted for IVF, which proved very expensive and which soon burned a hole in their bank balance.                             
Things were looking grim. But then Chris spotted an article in the Telegraph appertaining to the lack of polygraph testers in the UK and the government’s legislative proposal to adopt polygraph testing within the British justice system with it being written in statute within the next three years. He researched the field of Polygraphy extensively and was hooked. He opted for an intensive three-month course in California, and when finished, he would be a fully-fledged member of the highly prestigious American Polygraph Association; a licence to print money.   
                        
Sara didn’t want him to go but, after a lot of heated debate and soul searching, the decision was made, and Chris left for the sunshine coast. He spoke to Sara every day for the first month but the calls started to drop away so much so that halfway through the course they were only talking about twice a week.

It was during his seventh week of training that he met Mika. She had been accompanying her husband while he attended a venture capital, technological, innovation and social media world conference, and exhibition in the San Francisco Bay area of Northern California. The American Polygraph Association had decided the event would be an opportunity to advertise their unique business; good practise for the students. That is when Chris first set eyes on Mika. She looked stunning in her green velvet backless dress which revealed a large tattoo of a multi-coloured dragon. She was nonchalantly walking around when she spotted the sign above stand 516 that read, “COULD YOU DETECT A LIE, BECAUSE WE GUARANTEE TO.”
She walked slowly over to Chris and stood staring at him before lifting a small lipstick from her handbag and applying it.
“Can you really catch people out with this machine, if they lie?”
“That’s the idea,” Said Chris, feeling rather hot under the collar. “Would you like to try it?”
“Yes please, could be fun.” She sat down at the small table. “I suppose you’re going to strap me up to something now.”
“Nothing harmful, just a few leads to some of your fingers and some straps around your body.”
“Go on then.” She laid her hand on the table and Chris took up the cardio-sphygmograph. He had set this up over 100 times during the last six weeks but at this moment he couldn’t function properly. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He gently attached the galvanograph to her fingertips.  He felt a surge of natural electricity surge through him as he felt her beautiful soft skin. His heart began to race. Sara flashed through his mind. He hadn’t felt like this for a long time. Every now and then Mika caught him staring at her and laughed. Next, the cuff. As he slid it on her arm his eyes caught hers and he felt chemistry between them. He stepped away and reached for the tube-like band. “I’m just going to wrap this around your body.”
As he stepped towards her, she lifted her right leg and pointed her foot at him. “Could you take my shoes off for me, my feet are aching.” Chris licked his dry lips and looked around to see if any of his fellow students or tutor were on their way back from their walkabout, then knelt down and removed her shoes and placed them under her chair. He gripped the table leg to help himself up and couldn’t help looking at her perfectly formed body. He felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Time just froze for a moment as she sat staring seductively at him.

“I’ve got a proposition for you.” She said, “How would you like to earn an easy 10 grand?”
The next six months were a whirlwind for Chris and Mika was the storm driving it. She had sophistication about her. She was beguiling, beautiful, cunning and alluring.   
After convincing Mitch that she needed to visit her sick friend in New York, she booked a hotel a few blocks from where Chris was staying. The first night they spent together she emptied her bag onto the queen-sized bed and produced a pocket guide Kama Sutra, chopped some lines and pounced on him like a lioness. Chris couldn’t get enough of it; the Charlie and her. She was insatiable. If Sara found out, that really would be the end.

It was Wednesday morning at The Piers Hotel. After he’d cleaned the mirror and did a visual sweep for any loose wraps, Chris made his way to Luigi’s greasy spoon for a fry up. After a bit of banter with the staff, he sat quietly staring at his large cappuccino. He started to get anxious again. “What the fuck should I do? Time to get out. Get out of this mess. Come on, pull yourself together man. Jesus! 9.30!, Sara!  Got to call Sara. Did I even speak to her yesterday?” He took out his 11 pro max and saw a missed call, so sat working out his next move. “Come clean. End it. Just tell the truth. No, get some help.” He never really talked about his feelings; just like his father, an emotional fish. That was half the problem. They needed to talk. His heartfelt heavy as he hit speed dial but, just as he connected, a text came through. It was Mika.
“ Meet at Purdey’s, Friday, at 8pm. Bring your little box of tricks with you, 5k for 2 hours work. Don’t be late xx.” He replied, “ok!” and disconnected the call just as Sara answered, then switched off his phone. He needed time to think. 

Sara knew how busy Chris could get but was excited to tell him the good news. She was pregnant. It had been a bittersweet moment: finding herself with child but knowing that her daughter will grow up motherless for most of her life. She thought for a moment about video calling him but changed her mind. Her heart ached and she felt dizzy. Depression came over her like never before and she fought hard to hold the tidal wave of tears back. “Can’t let Chris see me like this. Tell him to his face. Can read him then, read him better than anyone.”

Purdey’s Farm was a dilapidated old farmhouse on the outskirts of Upminster, Essex.  It belonged to one-eyed Bob. Bob used to control all the bouncers in and around the West End. If anything needed sorting then he was your man. He was a one-eyed giant standing at 6” 8” and 28 stone.  He lost his eye in a fight with a Romanian Gypsy King. Bob lost his eye; the king lost his life. The fight was over a debt; winner takes all kind of bet.

The gates to the farm were always open but rarely did anybody venture in uninvited. The main house was a gutted roofless ruin. The yards, back and front, were full of old rusted cars, caravans, smashed up boats and mounds of old cable ready for stripping. There was a barn at the back of the house with open fields beyond which were flanked by ancient woodland. Piles of logs were stacked under a corrugated lean-to at the side of the barn with an abundance of coal next to it. A pile of old cables lay in the open. The burning always took place on the weekend and the acrid smoke lingered on for days.

Chris pulled up on time. It was dark and damp and a light fog stretched out beyond the fields. The gravel under the wheels reminded him of home and how proud he had felt when he and Sara had moved into their first home. He stepped out of his old 4x4 range rover with his kit case and walked up to the solid black iron door. He rang the bell and after a few minutes, a metal plate dropped to reveal a familiar face, followed by the sound of bolts being drawn. The door creaked open.
“Hello darling, come in.” She stood with a wicked smile on her face. She wore a black all in one overall, the type builders use when they are expecting to get dirty and what looked like surgical gloves.  Chris entered, head down.
Mika bolted the door behind them. It had just started to rain. She led him through to another door which led down to the basement where sat a tall imposing man with a heavily bruised face. He was gagged and his hands were cuffed to a bolt eye firmly fixed to a very old heavy workbench. Standing in the corner was another man. He stood by another smaller table on which lay a curled up leather pouch. A large vodka bottle and four glasses stood next to it.
“Mr Flicka, I would like to introduce a good friend of mine, Mr Kaspersky. Kas for short.” She walked over to the battered captive. “This is your subject. May I introduce mister Moreau.”

Copyright Phil Miller


Sunday, 10 May 2020

Haibun – Air formation


Haibun – Air formation


By Robert Kingston

“We watched as they took to the sky in groups, then counted them as they returned one by one, some not returning at all.” These were words spoken of our air force in the Second World War. The effects on people's lives the world over is something many of us carry in our thoughts each day and on each day of remembrance. This for me was made all the more poignant today as I watched the largest flock of crows I have ever seen take to the sky, heading north-west, only for a short while later to return heading south-east. On their return the formation had changed, to a lesser number, a few more followed, then odd ones following a little later.

a flock of crows
in formation trace the past
shadows of heroes

Copyright By Robert Kingston