How the boy is little. Bald like his father. Our look is tempered to be that of an infant, clean for the cause, no hair or beard. Well, perhaps that is not how it started but watching him in his...
3. The ball is rolling, plink plonk plink. And where are they? Not a clue. Faces abash with emptiness. Can they really be lost. In this age of ours. Plasma floods with colours and dots. Maps pinging and pointing to...
4. I'm hungry, the boy said. His sister sat beside him and the other, the younger lay quiet, her nappy soiled. Yes, we must eat. The old mummer rustled in the early morning breeze. The sun glinted on the leaves...
5. I took in joy for years. I drank on it. In the state. Watching and watching and acting. This new state of a modern tribalism, that I had co-manufactured. My father had died birthing it. In the first days...
Legate, I fear no end, said Kratz as he undressed. His gown, then his immaculately cut jacket, his thin shirt, his trousers, his underwear. He folded each of them neatly and placed them on a chair. He stood before them...
Where are you going, said her disembodied voice? The girl's head appeared out of the doorway, to the edge of shadows. I have to get food Mum. You shouldn't leave them. I know. But I have to. I have to...
The patrol was moving slowly from door to door. Figures in gowns halting people as they passed, knocking on doors. Questions, questions, faces dropping to the floor. No eyes connecting. Over the other side of the road a man is...
I have his shirt from the day he died. Unwashed and stained with his blood. A relic you might say. I remember as a child that I would hang it beside my bed. I would imagine that he was watching...
Skyte emerged wholesome. He was refreshed. Coffee'd. As he entered the chamber the seated ten arose and bowed. He swirled in. Robe light at the feet with an angelic whoosh. Soft black velvet slippers gliding without a squeak across the...
Wake up! Wake up! Her breath like a fist to the chest. Pupils on. What time? Where? Trash. In her nose. Hands damp. The smell. Shit in her hair. Feet kick. Arms, thighs, hips. The fall. The fall. Eyes wide....
You scoured the area? Yes, Legate. Under every nook and cranny. Skyte's eyes had darkened. Everywhere. You looked everywhere? For four hours, Legate. And she has vanished? Yes. A child of eight years old. Into thin air?...
My son was born in the late morning of the 24th July. He came quickly. We were expecting an almighty fight. We had been warned that the first one puts up a struggle and is not so willing to appear....
Skyte took his place opposite the journalist. He was eerily serene. He had been explaining the fertility of his cross bred sheep. Fecund was the word he chose to describe them. That there was no need to enforce breeding incentives....
The children were sandwiched between the floorboards above and the ceiling below. Dust rained on them as Anchorite feet scuffled over them. The elder girl and the brother lay on their stomachs. Their bodies scanning beams. Breathing quietly into the...
Their feet reached the ground. But they were sandwiched between two walls. She told him to scuffle over to his left. The other way was sure to lead to the divide between life and death. The pain in her legs...
I've re-written the very beginning of the story. Click on the Blood Run link above and find Blood Run 1 & 2. Anyway new bit. How trusting are children. So easy to calm with stories. Lead them into a dark...
The light was fading. The Legate's entourage arrived at the Kratz mansion. A selection of armoured Vees in a line. Skyte's state vehicle in the centre. He emerged with Glass and the two of them, bald heads bowed entered the...