Tag: Short Stories

How to Kill a Lamb

How to Kill a Lamb

(written a good few years ago)

A man – Kenneth, stands alone over a table, he’s admiring a big knife, turning it over in his hand and watching the light glint on the blade.

A younger man – Sam, comes in timidly.

Kenneth looks around at Sam, the knife still in his hand.

KENNETH: You the new boy?

SAM: Well . . . yes.

KENNETH: You done this sort of thing before?

SAM: Well . . . no.

KENNETH: Where you worked before then?

SAM: In a record shop.

KENNETH: Is that it?

SAM: Well . . . I worked in a restaurant once.

KENNETH: What sort of restaurant?

SAM: A vegetarian restaurant.

KENNETH: You’re not a vegetarian are you?

SAM: Well . . . no.

KENNETH: Good. Now what did she tell you?

SAM: What do you mean?

KENNETH: Did she tell you exactly what the job involves.

Continue reading “How to Kill a Lamb”

Croeso – Welcome

NOTE: THIS SITE IS IN THE PROCESS OF BEING REPAIRED AND REDESIGNED SO IT MAY BE A BIT WONKY

What’s it all about then?

No one’s got a clue really, but we try to do our best.

This website exists to display a bit of one person’s attempts to do their best. When I say ‘best’ I’m not sure if that’s true in the sense that everything here is perfectly crafted, because it’s not. Some of it is roughly hewn or not hewn at all, simply pointed at, but then again, maybe that’s the best I can do.

I dunno.

I reckon that less than 1 in 100 visitors to this website are actual human beings so if you’re one of them and not a bot, and have managed to read this far down the page, I hope you can find something of interest here.

Just scroll and click and search. Turn over some metaphorical stones – there’s quite a lot to uncover even if I do say so myself.

blah blah – you know the score – here’s a poem from 1999 about knowing the score

ninetyfivefive
 
 you know the score
 in a movie
 or a tv show
 the flaws
 small flaws
 idiosyncratic flaws
 twelve flaws
 or just one
 we’re allowed to be flawed
 it’s ok as long as in the end
 we’re fucking good at our job
 in my real life i’m an artex ceiling of cracks and fissures
 with some small redemption

 it’s kind of arse-backwards ain’t it?

The Dreamer

The Dreamer

The creature woke up; it was screaming silently, becoming aware that it existed as a presence inside its own skull. It was a bundle of bones, hanging with flesh.

Where were they? Who were they?

Ah! Yes. He was what was known as a man, on a planet known as Earth. A few hours earlier he’d lain on that bed next to a woman, a similar collection of flesh and bones. They’d been together, sharing their existence on that small blue planet for twenty-five of its years. His name was Ianto; her name was Siân.

She was lying next to him now, her flesh and bones covered with a smooth skin. He reached across under the bedclothes and stroked her thigh with his fingertips. Continue reading “The Dreamer”