Simon Says

February 13, 2010

For as long as I can remember I have ignored the voices in my head. Wicked little voices inciting me to violence and murder, suicide and mutilation.

“Push that old lady in front of the bus,” they whisper.

But I do not listen to them. I close my eyes and think of something else, or I ask them politely to stop.

But recently the voices have changed, and try as I might I am finding it harder to resist them. With tears in my eyes, desperate for peace, I reach for the phone.

“Vote for John and Edward,” they whine.

[First posted Sat Nov 14, 2009 ]



February 13, 2010

The great chef stepped forward and stooped to inspect the dish presented by the seventh contestant.

“Very well presented,” he pronounced. “In the French style, as one would expect.”

With a silver knife and fork he carved a sliver of the meat, which he popped into his mouth before chewing furiously. His face was a picture of concentration.

“Ah! No no,” he frowned. “This will never do! I am afraid that your liver is far too overcooked, and criminally under-seasoned. Its very disappointing.”

Crestfallen, the pale young cook limped from the room. The bandage at his side began to seep.

[First posted Tue Oct 13, 2009]

The Duel

February 13, 2010

The protagonists of the duel resumed their places for the next bout. Ponting took guard at the crease, Flintoff carried the red leather ball back to his mark and Derrick Smalls sat forward on his couch.

Derrick visualised the next ball, a shorter faster delivery. He foresaw the mistimed defensive stroke nicking the ball to the waiting hands at slip. Eyes closed in concentration he focussed his telepathic powers at the batsman, compelling the Australian captain into error.

Accelerating Flintoff charged in and fired another brutal ball down the pitch. Ponting strode forward, driving cleanly through the covers for four.

[First post Mon Jul 13, 2009]

Britian’s Greatest Medium

February 13, 2010

Simon slumped in front of his oversized TV channel surfing before alighting on ‘Britain’s Greatest Medium’. Ah, shadenfrauder. On screen a pathetic crone was being conned by a tanned silver-haired fraud.

“I have a message for you from a John … no James … Jack! Jack wants you to be happy and move on with your life…”

The medium turned suddenly to face the camera.

“Simon Herbert Jones your ennui is killing you. Cyncism is preventing you from forming any meaningful relationships. You have not phoned your mother in five months…”

Simon turned over to watch ‘The Bill’ in disgust.

[First posted Mar 28, 2009]