The Nasty Man

June 23, 2010

Would you do something for me?

Picture in your mind the last time that you saw your family. Was it dropping the kids off at school, or perhaps saying goodbye to your girlfriend as she left for work?

Now think carefully. In the background do you see a tall thin man wearing a black hat; maybe standing in the street or staring through the window? No? In your mind’s eye take a look over your shoulder.

Do you see him now, looking back at you? If you do you ought to hurry home, because that is me… the nasty man.


Home Late

May 13, 2010

My return is announced by the crunch of gravel as I pull into the drive. I am late and I anticipate another row with Sandra, although in truth we would fight if I were back on time.

As I park something catches my eye though the gloom;`a white shape luminous in the moonlight. I strain my eyes to make it out, and then with recognition comes realisation.

A swan. Nailed to the door of my house. Its wings spread, but its neck broken and hanging limp over its chest.

And then I know that they are back. Oh God, Sandra…

Ambient Sausage Rolls

April 13, 2010

When he finally entered the room it was empty, apart from… something?

Matthew was struck by the distinct sensation that he were about to consume a freshly-baked sausage roll. He visualised flaky golden pastry and a steaming sausage meat filling, peppery and so hot it would almost scald his mouth.

Despite himself Matthew began to salivate.

But then the elation of the ephemeral pastry was supplanted by a deep melancholy; fear of the butcher and the piggy-wig, and of the metaphysical grinder relentlessly chewing up skin and gristle and countless unnamed organs.

His hunger dissipated and he left the room.


February 13, 2010

One morning Gilbert awoke from an unpleasant dream in which he was a pig. A nightmare he realised, as he sat with the images still fresh and vivid in his mind.

In the dream he had been imprisoned in the back of a truck, crammed in with his herd standing supine as they were jostled by the moving vehicle. Worse still, he alone was conscious of their destination; off to the slaughterhouse to have their throats slit. He had screamed in terror.

With a trotter Gilbert wearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes and went downstairs to get some coffee.

[First posted Fri Dec 04, 2009]


February 13, 2010

As the insipid morning light filtered through the bedroom curtains Chad sat on the floor and wept. His hands held the blackened teeth which he had collected from his pillow and bedding. Inside his raw, empty mouth his tongue felt nothing but rotting stumps. Choking, he wretched up a bloody mess; the lining of his mouth which had sloughed off during his sleep.

In misery Chad remembered the night before. He had been out with his buddies, hanging out at the mall. He remembered drinking the can of Koca-Kola. He had had no idea.

Don’t be a fool. Drink Pepsi!

[First posted Sat Oct 03, 2009]


February 13, 2010

Ted staggered out of the Fox and Hounds and headed up the dark lane. Arriving back at the farm he crossed the yard and opened the rickety door of the mushroom shed. Inside he was greeted by the sweet scent of compost and through the gloom could just make out the pale fungi.

Ted was always amused at the crazy prices the fancy London restaurants paid for his mushrooms. But this was a craft, the secret was too maintain just the right balance of moisture and nutrients. Unzipping his fly he released a hearty stream of piss over the crop.

[First posted Sat Jul 25, 2009]