I never saw anything like it before. Or since.
It was a visual shock.
Vibrant, immediate and life changing.
But I didn't get my camera phone out in time to take a picture, so it never really happened.

Law of Attraction

It will feel like an electrical charge, he said.
It won't last long, but will be unmistakable. Like a sudden jolt, or momentary weakening of the legs. Perhaps your spine may tingle.
But that's how you will know.
That transference of energy only occurs when you and the other person connect like this.
They call it a 'hug'.
You may then instigate a mutually beneficial personal partnership and allow it run it's course.


Thirty six thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean.
The frozen wastes of Greenland to the north. Newfoundland's choppy shores lying hours to the west.
Air temperature forty nine below zero.
Winds fifty knots plus, veering North-North-Easterly.
54 degrees North, 46 degrees West.
Skies clear.
No place for a seagull.

Old Man

They smile at me, the young people. That same smile you save for a sleeping infant or cuddly pup.
Patient, serene, tranquil.
Their eyes filled with a gentle tolerance.
I smile back, knowing that I could kill them just as I had killed the others.

What's The Story?

The fact that Aesop took so bloody long writing one of his fables became a real source of irritation for his brother Asap.

My Village

My father was considered the most cowardly man in my village.
He was afraid to hunt, was wary of strangers approaching and became extremely agitated when pressed to give an overly opinionated point of view.
How others saw him made him nervous. How he was perceived was a constant source of angst. All in all, the most cowardly man I ever met.
The pressure on me therefore, to be the same as him was immense.
But I was a brave young man who reveled in excitement and danger.
There would be no hope for me in my village.


In the town of Alta, Northern Norway lived a sled dog named Martinus. 
This was of course not his name, for dogs have no use for actual names. Although this canine energy did recognise the sound ‘Mar-Tee-Nus’ and understood on his level that it somehow related to him. 
The human energy forms seemed to need this label for identification purposes. Even though his awareness of the term ‘human’ was negligible.
Martinus lived with eleven other Husky dogs. Each day they pulled a weight attached to their torso across the snow-laden land.
After which, they ate. 
He would like to hunt for the food himself, although he didn't know why. Still, the meat tasted good and the effect was pleasing.
It was a happy life for the dog the humans labelled ‘Martinus’.


"How's the job hunt going"?
"Good, yeah good".
Tired of the hunt.
"It's tough out there".
"Ah yeah, but you have to keep at it".
Under the duvet. Morning envelopes drop onto the cold hall floor below. Contents as stark and anonymous as their sender's identities.
"You all set for Christmas"?
"Nearly there".
Nearly nowhere.
Other faces know. They hold their judgments close for safe keeping. Hanging onto those treasured beliefs with all their might, lest they see themselves and become submerged too.
Better than. I could never do that. He needs to shape up.
Shape has lost form.
Up has a ceiling now.
Never is forever.
A secret world with empty rooms.
Space for all, but invites unsent.

Who's There?

Oh he was very small.
Tiny in fact.
That's the word: Tiny.
No taller than the nail on my little finger.
Perfectly formed and proportioned. Smartly dressed in light blue jeans, t-shirt and waistcoat. Hair neatly combed and parted to the side.
Standing on the white tabletop beside my coffee cup.
Looking up at me, smiling and laughing.
In a full voice he said quite clearly "I'm not really here y'know".
That opened a can of worms.

Times Past

     I perceive with astonishment and regret that Mr. Barnes and his cohorts are to be allowed use of the town hall for their future meetings.
If Mr. Barnes were a conscientious advocate of any form of Christian belief, I should be sorry to raise my voice against him or his actions, but when it is notorious that he is the author of grossly offensive publications and that the avowed object of his so called lectures is to advocate these publications and to libel, vilify and traduce the religion it’s practices and observances, I do think it unfair that a public property should be let for such an entertainment.
Will you permit me therefore to thus publicly record my protest at such a violation of the trust and confidence we place in your hands.
Also, the man is a mother-fucker.

Yours etc.


The train pulls into the station. 
Calmly watching as frantic faces assess the seat availability.
They race beside the slowing carriages, looking in, calculating the odds, spying a vacant space and deciding it is for them. Determination. Eyes of steel. Panic as the target disappears. The seat now prey for a new set
of eyes.
Doors open. The shrill noise announcing the incoming wave of chaotic insecurity.
“Is this seat taken”?

Say What?

We all know the expression "It takes a dog to create a storm".
But where did it come from?
Well, according to history - in the year 1653, King Adolphus of Maglatonia wished for a son and heir. He already had three sons, but just didn't like any of them particularly.
In his desperation he exclaimed "I may as well bequeath my throne to a dog".
As the dominant personality trait among the citizens of the great state was a tendency to process information literally; a small, scruffy terrier did indeed become Heir to the Throne and all that he surveyed etcetera etcetera.
Therefore creating a symbolic storm (ridding the nation of it's literal bent).
And that is how the phrase came to be.