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Weekly Contest #346
I’m the lucky one. You make your own luck. I do wonder about that. I wonder about a lot of things these days. Days. I wonder about so many things, and now I have added another to a list that has become seemingly endless. Days have no meaning to me now. How can they? There is no meaning other than the meaning I choose to create and attribute to my reality. Precious little of it sticks. There is no gravity to hold it in place and so it floats away into the infinite. I wonder whether God was lonely before He began the creation of other beings. ...
Weekly Contest #345
The car had stopped. As he listened to the tick tick ticking of the cooling engine he wondered if a car was lesser for it not being in motion. A person was defined by what they did. They were constantly questioned as to their role in life. Accountant. Lawyer. Mechanic. The job came first. Then Dad. Then Husband. Somewhere further down the pecking order was friend. Hobbies were a distraction from the seriousness of life. An affectation. One should never turn a hobby into a living for fear of crushing what little love there existed in the friv...
Weekly Contest #344
It’s 6pm on yet another unremarkable weekday evening. Trent can feel the sun on his back as he walks down the road. A road that is not busy, but neither is it quiet. This is a town that may sleep, but if it does Trent has never been around to witness that slumber. The nearby train station is tucked discreetly betwixt office buildings and pub. At this time of day it regularly vomits a throng of commuters out into this part of the world. Half of them march to the car park and drive off to somewhere they consider better than town. The remainder...
Weekly Contest #343
Retirement remained an abstract concept even as Bill reluctantly entered this phase of his life. Blinking in the stark light of a truth he would much rather deny. The joke he trotted out was to mispronounce retired. Retard? Not me! He found any number of ways to sidestep his existence. Struggled with the ways that he might now be retarded. Held back by his own entrenched ignorance. Letting go of his previous existence was tough. What made it even tougher for Bill was that he’d not liked that phase of his life. He’d resented the choices he’d ...
Weekly Contest #342
Being alone became one of his many habits. He was not lonely. Knew only too well how it could be to reside with another in a quietly incongruous manner that led to a creeping loneliness that eventually made its way into a person’s bones. A cancer of sorrow that took a lot of curing. He’d been free of that particular cancer for five years and felt that he had the all clear by now. There was no way of knowing these things. It was just a fair hunch. The best way to know would be to step outside the coral of those habits of his and find out wher...
Weekly Contest #341
He drives there under the blanket of a dark cloudy night. The moon attempts to pry, but is thwarted by grim maiden aunts wise to its antics. There will be no light this night. No frivolity. This is a night of purpose. There is work that needs to be done. The lights of his Land Rover stare blindly at the grey of the road. Everything before him is monochrome. Beyond that there is the blurred and muted promise of colour in a world that cannot exist for him right now. He is tired. Ever so tired. He has been tired for an age. This journey is a mi...
We are thieves of time. We disrespect and deny the inexorable movement of the river of life. Ignoring the reality within which we must swim. Death does not cheat us. We cheat life and then we bleat and moan as we finally have to face the finite fact of our existence. Once, in the mists of my memories, someone told me that you can never go back. My recollection of this is limited to the words and their melodramatic delivery. I was left with the lasting impression that this phrase came from a film or TV series. If anything, this provenance add...
Weekly Contest #340
I see it differently. I know, I know. You’re thinking that we all see it differently. And you’re right. Up to a point. After that? You’re wrong diddly-wrong-wrong. And we don’t like being wrong, do we? That makes life so much fun! The focus upon individuality when all that really works for us is our commonality. Oh, there is gold in the difference, but mostly there is conflict. Mostly, this is where it all goes wrong. Let me explain. Once, I was like you. Blind to the full extent of the human experience. Literally blind to it. Then someone ...
Weekly Contest #339
The day was wet and grey. The promise of cold came drifting into the house and made Polly Trentham shiver. That sudden and unwanted gift reminded her of her loneliness. Being alone had become her preference. She found the presence of many of the people she encountered caused within her an asynchronous reaction. They carried with them a communicable discord that cast her adrift in their very midst. Polly struggled to find her people. Couldn’t discern between those who convincingly masqueraded as genuine and the real deal. She suspected that t...
Life was an awakening. He knew that now. And once he was awake, there was no return to blissful ignorance. The glass bridge to the fantasy he’d dwelt in had shattered along with his heart. He wished he could take it back, but there was only the now and the forward movement in the river of life. The past month had been experienced in a daze. Somehow he retained the pretence of what once was. Seeing everything anew was dizzying. His insides thrummed and shook. He’d gaze upon his hand and wonder at how the maelstrom within him wasn’t visible t...
The anguished Winter rain beats upon the window panes with an insistence that will not be denied. Behind the lamenting torrent is a wash of grey that paints the view into something it was never meant to be. There was a time when he would see beyond that grey. That time is now long past. There was once a hopefulness that he had always thought resided within the land itself. Now he realises that it was him all along. He wishes he could look away, but his eyes are locked upon that place that exists beyond everything. They drift and drift, takin...
Weekly Contest #338
Some journeys are lived elsewhere. Deep inside and so very far away. Another life. Another world. When she returned to herself, she was beneath a roof and standing in shadow. There were voices nearby. As they receded, she thought it likely that they had been the alarm that had awakened her from another slumber of escape. A siren call for the pain that signified the reality that smothered and clawed at her very soul. She was wet. And she was cold. In the dark of the shadows she could see enough to know that she was smeared in dirt and that he...
Weekly Contest #337
After the accident, I was different. I sensed it from the very start, but as is often the case, I suppressed this new knowledge. Didn’t know what to do with it. Easier to focus on what was going on around me. The major part of which was that my life had radically changed since my fall. My fall went way beyond whatever calamity occurred at the top of the stairs on that pivotal day. The stairs in question dog-legged around and once more around so that they were pointing in entirely the opposite direction to my downward travel. I must’ve hit th...
Weekly Contest #336
This was as good as it got. Like taking candy from the proverbial baby. Dug liked that bit. What he didn’t like was that he’d had two newbies foisted upon him. That wasn’t how he rolled, even with a rep like his. At least guys knew why he’d ended up with his name. Dick had known the story and been suitably impressed right up until Spike had laughed and asked what the story behind Dick’s name was. He’d then mimed lewdly with his hand and a tongue probing his cheek in sync. Dug almost called it off until Dick shook his head disdainfully at Spi...
My role is very simple. I help people. I help them whether they like it or not. Their like does not concern me, it is the noisy buzz of a fly. There are far bigger things in this world and as a discord agent, I occupy my time with those things. This is my reason for being. If anyone were to ask me, I suppose I am happy in my work. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not a fixer. I’ve seen those lemmings on a quest to fix others. There’s a plank in their eye, yet they concern themselves with the splinters they see in the eyes of those around them. ...
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