Punctuation.

When my wife dies, my heart will die. I will bury them in the grounds of our home and watch the Lotus tree grow from the place where they lay.

I will wait as long as it takes and then what’s left of me will die also.

I shall then be the gentle breeze that swirls and breathes through the petals of the lotus flowers.

Love comes and love goes.

Everything ebbs.

Everything flows.

Decorating Satan.

It seemed that I had been left with no option other than to have a face off; a showdown with the big man downstairs. I would have been pleased to find myself in any other scenario rather than this, but circumstances had made my conflict with Lucifer non-negotiable.

So there was going to be a war, a battle to define all battles, a big-ball kicking competition between he & I. I needed to get tough, I needed to be strong, I needed to be prepared and armed to the teeth. I needed to win, needed my secret weapon, I needed my authority from the almighty to beat the bastard beast with heavenly blessing.

I was locked, I was loaded, I was pumped, I was hyped, I was like a coiled spring ready for action.

Just as well.

The beast arose through the floor at the centre of the arena staring at me with hate, licking its lips and quietly baying for my blood. The air fell silent and the floor turned black.

It was time, time for decisive action, time to neither hesitate nor falter, time to flex muscle, show no fear and draw my weapon. Reaching over my shoulder I grabbed the stock of my gun and swiftly pulled it from my back holster. In a fluid motion, like a striking cobra, I swung the gun in the direction of the fallen one and unloaded two rounds into the face of evil.

Splats of colour ripped across its snarling features, its horrible horned head recoiled in the double impact.

Something, however, was wrong with this picture…

Satan’s head snapped back into its original position, only this time with an even more baleful expression. Vibrant fluid dripped down the side of its face from the places my two bullets had met.

It was then that I looked down in horror, the sinking feeling in the depths of my miserable soul, the gun in my hand, the fucking gun in my trembling hands…was a paintball gun.

Was that shit arriving unexpectedly in my pants?…

Satan: One.
Hiab-X: Nil.

The Borough.

The residents of the filthy borough called Wayward Heath were not amused.

Their new supermarket had been unveiled; it was a hulking boob of filthy concrete with grime-encrusted windows. Its brickwork colourfully tainted with obscenities and illegible scrawl.

It was clear that the architect of this ramshackle block was a student of the ‘Bugger it up before the yobbos do’ school of aesthetics. He had a point, the supermarket blended in seamlessly with the other shops of the area.

I heard one angry resident proclaim:

“It’s a bladdy outrage! The place looks like it’s already bin done over by vandals, now what are the kids gonna do wiv emselves?”

Oh Brother.

Skate boarding in the haze of yellow street light, down the longest hill in Bristol.
The Devonshire hotel with its less than satisfactory credentials.
A large angry wasp crawled from the curtain fold.
The menacing man who became more elderly as the minutes passed by.
Tanya fooled Will Fisher into a paint-balling.
There were screams in the woods before midnight.

A Man Could Lose Himself…

I went to 10nD0n to get lost, to vanish into the millions and silently weave my way through the bustle of the shifting streets. Towering buildings of self-arranging architecture boasted their majesty to the sky, which in turn only served to make my presence even more obscure.

The city that most people know today, is barely recognizable tomorrow. I like it for this fact, to enjoy the knowledge that it doesn’t remind me of where we all came from. It has become completely alien; humans now just a minor detail in the abundant tapestry of the ‘other’.

To reach higher parts of the capital, it is required that one must move one’s mind before the chemical body follows.

I took a data capsule and waited…