Stars in fiction. Vol.1

I saw Mika the other day. He was walking down the road with a rough girl on his arm. She was the size of a bloody house.

'Oi! Mika!' I shouted. 'Your girlfriend looks like a whale'.

'Sorry', he replied.

'I said your girlfriend looks like a bowling ball with legs.'

'She's my mum'

'Well... she's still fat!'

He smiled.

hot ape

Ruminating intently on his own mortality, the great ape gripped the sides of the deep fat fryer.

Feeling at peace for the first time in his life, he bellowed “freedom” before thrusting his head into the boiling oil.

Sadly, his last words were never heard.

For he could not speak.

He was an ape.

With my family around me

He realised too late that this was how it would end. A bare lightbulb; a stale glass of water; a telephone with no numbers. And by then it was far too late to change much of anything. He knew that there was something he needed to tell someone, but he couldn't recall who or what. Consequently, it went undone.

Happy

It hadn't been a lie. It just involved a small omission.

"I really want you to be happy," he had told her.

He wanted her to be happy. Fat, but happy.

Really happy and really fat would also be fine.

He bathed in his own generosity of spirit.

He was one of the good guys and, boy, it felt good.

Success (abridged)

*Tick* he waits *tock* he wonders *tick* lying still, lost *tock* in his wordless thoughts *tick* point after quarrelsome point *tick* coarsing through his mind *tock* surely now it is the moment, his moment to shine *tick* and then...*tock* he waits *tick* he wonders...

Overheard in half-term WH Smiths

"Mummy why didn't you buy me the blue one?"
"Because you're a girl; pink is for girls"
"But I don't like pink"

A Public Notice

Dear friends and customers of Grand Union Pets.

As of today we are to cease trading.

You see; I was a quite woeful businessman.

The anger and frustration of this fact drove me to despair.

As a consequence my life began to fall apart.

I lost my confidence, was vile to my wife and began to despise myself.

Yours

Mark

cluster

We have observed, gentlemen, the spores flourish.
From [alpha] zygote to [omega] predator, now you are banging on the walls.
Our transmission will end presently. The wasp has outgrown the caterpillar, and the faithful grub is half-mad from venom, the brood pierce its belly with tiny spines.
All stations signing off. The towers are darkening.

Train Iamb

Victoria's railway, trussed and skirted still
the workmen pause, to sip their steaming tea
and crested arches vault the centuries.

Distance (The End Of The First Movement)

I am light-years apart from you. Because slowly, thoughtfully, beautifully across a slip of time, I put myself there.

 

Placed carefully. Through grasped moments of planned battle.

 

A cavalcade of unsociable intimacy. A carefully plotted campaign of solitude.  

 

Here I stand. The last great independent man of my age. A soldier.

 

I fought to be here.

 

Alone.

Living for the Weekend

One, two, three, four. I am the best dancer at Carumba, Saturday.

The beat fills me. Women smile. Rhythm teases, builds. I yearn for it to climax, so we can cheer, frenzied, relieved. Then I wish it hadn't. Because we are closer to the end. Sun rising.

One, two, three, four. I am the registered accountant at Carswell Ltd, Monday.

Fijian Goat Bees

"mmm... honey milk".

Tim smiled as he took a long draught of the sweet creamy liquid. A little dribbled down the side of his mouth. His tongue absently flicked out and recovered it. He didn't want to waste any. John looked at him. They both smiled knowingly.

John, chuckling: "t'snot even from Fiji!"

Confused, Tim: "so, why..."

"Marketing": John, smugly.

21-29

In the beginning we were students of Dr Max Oberlin,
The guy who spotted Methylenedioxymethamphetamine,
Now we post-grad with Drs Wong and Molloy,
Who have a different way of bringing joy,
Fluoxetine.

On my arrival in heaven

"Like the décor?"

"It's just white..."

"That's clean design..."

"Sterile. And what's this music?"

[embarrassed]

"Is this Coldplay?"

"Me and Chris are friends."

"This explains a lot."

"We're putting on a little do for you later... Mel Gibson's coming."

"Come on, you're embarrassing yourself..."

"French Fancy?"

"I'm going downstairs. This is rubbish... and there's no booze in this White Russian."

Co-Incidents

Stepping off the kerb, she farts. Exactly then, someone behind her drops his keys.

She smiles at the coincidence, then stops dead, eyes closed, suddenly overcome by the sum of that moment’s simultaneous occurrences.

Behind her, a man feels superstitious and guilty; the act of picking up his keys coincides precisely with the collision of a girl and a bus.

Did I txt u last nite? x

Hey mister. Wht u up to? Out with da girls but not sure wht doin L8R... how u? xxx

10/09/2008 21:47

Hey, wht you doing? Out 2nite or just ignoring me??? :-) Could cum round L8R if u wnt? ;-) xx

11/09/2008 00:26

Just cos ur a self-obssessed pr4ck dusn't mean u cann just treet me like SHIT whenever u wnt. Wanker.

11/09/2008 02:47

Outsider

The curtains are usually open when nobody’s home. When people are in they draw them, pretend I don’t exist. Or they watch me, amazed. I’d prefer that, but I know they’re picturing me falling. When they’re out I can relax, get a good look. Imagine life inside.

I stay in position, in case someone walks in. Squeegee on the glass.

Anything else I can help you with today?

Where do I start?

Call centres terminated my goodwill, but that's not the half of it.

My capitalist principles shudder at their death sentence; the end of history is Hobson's choice.

Then the inadvertant colonialism and unintended racism weathered by my liberalism. The world's polarised and at the moment of conflict my life seems so much more important than yours.

Diary of an unpublished author

Once upon a time…

Shit. That’s a massive cliché.

A man walked into a bar…

Fuck.

You know, it’s a funny story…

Oh GOD.

There was this one time…

AAAAGGGHHHH.

The End.

What Song Lyrics Taught Me

All we’ve got to do is be brave. There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done. We can be heroes. There must be lights burning brighter somewhere. We can find new ways of living. I don’t belong here. It’s so much better on holiday. You can go your own way.

Musicians are fucking liars.

66 Words In Bad French

Je vous dirai un secret. J'ai essayé de me tuer.

Deux fois.

Pas une fois, mais deux fois. C'est important vous comprenez. C'est important vous voyez la vérité de moi. Vous voyez une fois que vous avez essayé une fois il n'y a pas de façon de retour. Cela est que je veux que vous ayez compris.

Il y a maintenant seulement un chemin…. à jamais.

One Sense Mistaken For Another

“I get synaesthesia during sex.”
Really?
“Yeah, I see rainbow colours.”
Is that synaesthesia? Either way, sounds like a definite hint, so I resist the dictionary.

At her doorstep, my face tingles: a hormonal rallying cry for action.
“Do you know your way home?”
Yup.

Tonight’s second re-definition of synaesthesia: a sense of opportunity misinterpreted as certainty.

He Takes Massive Liberties (A Web Editor's Lament)

< body >
< html >

He thinks his actions are < b > bold < /b > and < strong > strong. < /strong >

< i >I< /i > know he is < small > weak and scared. < /small >

Because I am the future.

Because I can see in two languages and he is just < sup > management. < /sup >

In my head < span style="font-size:“72”;color:CD1821;"> my words are huge and I see red red red. < /font size= “72” color=CD1821 >

But I say I can work late, but below it all I < sub > seethe. < /sub >

I need a break.

< br /> < /br >

< /body >
< /html >

Eyelash

I have an eyelash in my eye: a sharp hair, a prick. It has been there for two months, three days.

Do you remember that day?

I will not cry, although crying might move it. If I cry you’ll have won. My body will know you’ve won, you’ve gone.

So I blink through the pricking.

And think of you.

Prick.

Goods Received

Girl goes into a Gay Bar.
Hot topless Brazilian BARMAN serves her.
Smile on his face.
Glitter on his pecks.
Four drinks, one storeroom snog later, Go-Go-dancing glitter-wearing Brazilian takes girl’s number.
Date arranged Friday night (after topless barman finishes Go-Going).
Date glitter-licking fun.
Monday girl receives £400 invoice from Glitter Go-Go for goods, quite literally, received.
Fucking Rent Boys