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Monthly Archives: May 2015

Blind Pleasure

A sheep bleats
Birdsong in the trees
A light breeze
Whispers through my hair
The shadow
Of a tree
Gives coolness
The smell of lavender
Hangs in the warm air
The ears, the skin and the nose
Tell the blind enough

 

 

***
Copyright © Rainbow

 
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Posted by on Sunday 31 May 2015 in General, Poems

 

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CAUGHT Out

It is a dark and stormy night… Hang on, didn’t someone already use that to start a novel or something…? Well anyhow, it’s dark and it’s stormy and it’s night… you get the picture. As I sit here typing this out, forks of lightning light up the sky outside… Blast, this isn’t going the way I’d hoped.
    Right, forget the dramatics. I don’t know why I bothered trying. My story’s hardly horror movie material. At least not from my point of view, anyway. Though most people would disagree, I guess.
This rambling isn’t getting me anywhere, so I’ll start at the beginning. When things started to go bad.

I moved here, oh, I don’t know how many years ago. And for the first couple of decades everything was hunky dory. There were always the odd mortals who’d notice my ‘unusual’ habits, but on the whole I was more or less accepted as an eccentric millionaire or something along those lines.
    I was always careful never to cause disturbance, and I never ever let people see me in my… other forms. I kept out of their way, they kept out of mine. This arrangement worked fine. Until a couple of days ago, that is…

****

“Hey!”
    Startled, I look up into the beam of a torch. I cover my eyes against the blinding light, trying to see the holder beyond. “And what do you think your doing?” a loud, gruff voice demands.
    “I… um… I…”
    “Thinking you could just sneak in and steal everything’ in sight did you?”
    “No! I…”
    “Yeah yeah. You can give your lame excuses to the police. I bet… Oh my God!”
    The owner of the voice suddenly drops the torch. He stares at me in horror, before turning and running at full speed back to the house. I don’t understand. What did I do? I’m not in the wrong form; I’m always very careful about that when venturing anywhere near inhabited areas.
    Then I look down… and see the blood. It’s gone all over the place. No wonder he reacted that way. Crap! I’d better get out of here. He’s bound to be back before long with reinforcements. Then there’ll be no point trying to explain…

****

And here I am. Without anywhere to go or anybody to turn to. I tried sneaking off; that nearly got me lynched. Yes, I suppose it was inevitable and all that. And yes, I should have been more careful. But it’s not as if I murdered anybody. What is one cow more or less? It was either that or break the habit of half a lifetime. And it’s hardly my fault there were no other creatures around that night.
    Hang on… What’s that noise outside? Yep, just as I thought. They’re coming. Who’d have thought that even in this day and age people can still be so superstitious. Ah well. My own fault for choosing this place. If I’d lived somewhere else I might simply have been banged up in a secure unit from which I could easily have escaped and moved somewhere else.
    Wonder what would have happened if I’d gone for one of them instead of one of their livestock. Maybe I’d have had time to scarper while the police were investigating. I expect a desiccated corpse with puncture wounds in the neck isn’t something the average copper comes across very often. But then again, the penny would have dropped sooner or later I expect.

I’m going to miss the old place. Even the horrible old full-length mirror. Could never stand mirrors. That’s the one… difference I can’t hide. I only kept it so as not to look too odd to the outside world. Ironic, really; that it was the most easily hidden difference that got me caught in the end.
    They’re on the stairs now. I guess this is it. Now or never and all that. It wouldn’t be breaking my vow, that was only about feeding, after all. And it’s the only way to have any chance of a new start.
    Right, where are those matches…

****

“Where’s he gone!?”
    “How should I know! Maybe he’s hiding somewhere.”
    The mob is so worked up that nobody notices the faint smell of petrol wafting up from the floor below. And by the time it dawns on them that something is wrong, it’s already too late…

As the flames leap into the night sky, a lone bat flies low over the tree tops.

***
Copyright © Rainbow

 
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Posted by on Thursday 28 May 2015 in Fantasy, Flash fiction, Horror, Humour

 

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A Tale of Three Heroes: Chapter One

Note: this is a first draft. The only editing done is for typos/spelling errors.
***

 

 

The sun blazed down from a cloudless sky. In the fields and hedges nothing stirred. Even the liveliest woodland critter had succumbed to the heat.
The silence was broken by heavy footsteps and the tinkling of chains. Round a bend in the road came what at first glance appeared to be an occult jewellery display on legs. Closer inspection however revealed a slim dark haired girl dressed from head to toe in black. At least, what was visible under the silver had definite midnight tones. Alongside her gambled a large grey wolf. Occasionally it would pause, sniff hopefully at the bushes, then continue on, seemingly disappointed. “I’m afraid it’s too hot for happy little bunny rabbits to be hopping around for you to chase,” said the dark figure, who was evidently the animals owner. “I’m sure Angel will let you have a nice run around in her garden. Plenty of things to chase up trees there.”

 

Not a leaf stirred as LD strolled under the arch into Angel’s neighbourhood and up the drive to the first house. She hoped her friend would be awake. Still, it was after noon and even Angel had been known to rise early if it was hot enough.
She gave the knocker a few good thumps. She barely had time to step back before the door opened and something wet and gloopy was flung at her.
“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet your best friend.”
“What?”
Angel blinked. Then recognition dawned.
“Ah. Er… Sorry… I thought it was someone else,” she said sheepishly. “Hang on a sec.” She turned and routed around on a table just behind her, producing a role of parchment which she held up for LD to read.
“Blimey! Are they allowed to do that?”
Angel shrugged.
“According to them. Anyway, this says someone would be coming round to ‘discuss’ the matter with me, so when I heard the knocking I sort of assumed it was them.” “And you thought you’d open negociations by throwing the remains of your breakfast over them?” inquired LD. Angel gave her a look.
“Who said anything about negociating? Nobody’s building any road over my back garden.”
“Well it’s not actually the entire garden.”
Angel glared.
“That’s not the point. It’s still mine. And I like it.”
LD glanced over her shoulder.
“I think that’s them coming now. I’ll just nip out the back and clean up in the pond and um… leave you to it.”

 

She left Angel looking round for a suitable porridge substitute with which to surprise the visitor and ambled through the kitchen into the garden, Sheena following eagerly. A frog gave her a curious stare as she slid into the water, before hopping off to do whatever it was frogs did in their spare time. Voices drifted to her from the open windows. Well, so far so good, there was no shouting yet, at least.
LD could see why her friend was rather severely miffed at the thought of possibly losing all this. Angel was a great believer in leaving nature to do it’s thing, and here at least, that seemed to have worked marvelously. Around her frogs went lazily about their froggy business. On the opposite side of the pond, a row of ducks lay stretched out, heads under their wings, contentedly sunbathing. Flowers grew randomly and chaoticly around the endge of the lawn. The whole thing gave you the feeling of being in some forest glade somewhere. LD half expected a deer to come wandering out of the bushes.
The tranquility was shattered by the sound of smashing glasswear from the house, followed by a stream of amazingly colourful language. LD whistled. She hadn’t heard Angel use those words in a long while. “Should we…” she began uncertainly. Sheena whined, got up and made her way round to the far side of the pond where she cowered behind a bush. “Probably best to let them sort it out themselves,” LD agreed.

 

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Posted by on Tuesday 26 May 2015 in Fantasy, First Draft, Humour, Novel length

 

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The Witness

“Look, I told your people all I can when they first turned up at the scene. I don’t see what good it’ll do going over it all again. And it’s not as if I can give you anything useful, anyway.”
    Beside Carl, his guide dog shifted, possibly sensing his master’s irritation. “That’s how we do things I’m afraid,” replied the officer sitting opposite him. Carl might have found this rather patronising, but he just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, so didn’t make any further fuss. Instead, he began his story again.
    “Well, I was waiting in line with my sister. There was somebody further towards the front kicking up a fuss, it sounded like it was about a discount or something. Then it turned into an argument with a lot of shouting; somebody screamed and then it was just chaos. That’s all I can tell you.” “And you’re sure you didn’t catch any of what was being said?” the officer asked. Carl sighed. Did he think he had super hearing or something just because his eyes didn’t work?
    “No. There were several people shouting at once. And it’s not as if I go round listening in on everyone’s conversations, you know.”

After a few more questions they were finally finished and the officer helped Carl to the main doors. He still had a good ten minutes before his taxi would arrive. But the weather was nice and besides, he didn’t much fancy being patronised by the staff in there any longer.
    As he stood there, Carl’s thoughts drifted back to that day. Funny how you could just assume something like that would never happen to you. But it had. In the space of a few seconds he had gone from an anonymous member of the public to an eye witness in a murder investigation. Eye witness. The term still made him grin. Some eye witness he was, when he couldn’t even see the light of a torch shone full in his face. Still, they had to question everybody present. At least they hadn’t just dismissed him on the grounds that he hadn’t actually seen anything.
    The main shock had been discovering that he knew the victim. It turned out to be the dentist he had been going to since he was a teenager. Of course he hadn’t known him well; as well as anybody can get to know somebody they only see for five minutes a couple of times a year. But he had always treated him normally, not like ‘the poor disabled guy’ as some people tended to do.

What could drive someone to pull a knife and kill another human, just because of a disagreement over a discount? Whoever it was, was either a psychopath or had never heard of the concept of right and wrong.
    And there it was again. Stronger this time. He still couldn’t put his finger on it. A nagging feeling somewhere deep down that there was something wrong somewhere. Somewhere in those confused sounds was something he had missed. Something his subconscious seemed to have registered, but his conscious brain was refusing to accept. He concentrated on the memories. Yes. It had got something to do with the argument, just before the stabbing.
    The voice. That was it. For some inexplicable reason it sounded… familiar. He shrugged. He had known the victim. He had simply recognised his voice, that was all. It just hadn’t registered at the time. But why then did that feeling keep on nagging at him?

He was roused from his reverie by the sound of footsteps approaching. “Hi, Carl,” said a voice. “Hi,” he replied automatically. He didn’t recognise the voice, but then, that was often the case when he bumped into people outside the usual context.
    “Been in trouble?”
    “Nah, just ‘assisting the police with their inquiries’. A bloke got stabbed at the cinema the other day and I happened to be there…”
    He froze. All of a sudden it hit him. It hadn’t been the victim’s voice he’d recognised… it was the other voice. And, he realized in that same instant, it hadn’t been reluctance to dish on a friend that had made his brain refuse to let the knowledge surface fully. It was the fact that his friend should have been doing time in a secure psychiatric unit for attempted murder. He had to get back inside. Tell someone…
    Abruptly he turned, yanked his guide dog, who had been basking in the afternoon sun up onto his feet and made to go back into the police station. A hand on his shoulder and something hard and cold at his neck stopped him in his tracks. “I don’t think so,” said a soft voice by his ear.

***
Prompt: A dentist is stabbed while he waits in line at the movies.

Copyright © Rainbow

 
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Posted by on Friday 22 May 2015 in Flash fiction, General

 

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