Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Week 2: A New Start

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This room was different to the last. The circumstances were different too.

Last time the decision had been easy, well, there was no decision to make really, she’d had no choice, no other options.

This time she had Stan, though she’d never tell him that, it was too soon. There had been that moment on the stairs though.

Since moving into their new place, the first place she’d ever shared with a boy, Stan had taken to sitting on the first steps of the stairs. He’d take calls, read, sometimes he’d just sit there, staring. She thought it was cute.

Once in a while that’s where they hung out. One time they ended up drinking a whole bottle of wine there, just sitting there, on the stairs, chatting and drinking, in the hall.

They’d been talking about the decision and agreed it was the right thing to do. The house was small and things were fun. Stan was close to a promotion he said. But there was a moment, a look, like for a second she had a glimpse of the back of his mind and maybe she saw a flash of a second thought. Like maybe they could do it. Like it wasn’t too soon. But he never mentioned anything. 

She put her head down. And then ether and floating and a lady holding her hand and then it was done. She needed the loo. In the lobby she said goodbye and looked for him and told the nurse she was fine and that yes she had someone but he’d probably gone out for a cigarette or something.

She walked herself out, positive that he was there and this time, it was a new start.

Tuesday, 2 April 2013

Week 2 : A New Start



A New Start


It smelled kind of weird. That was the first thing Dave said when his cousin George gave him his housewarming present. Although he had to admit that within a couple of weeks of moving in the house smelled pretty weird all over. After-parties, mould filled teacups in the sink and a bin piled so high with rubbish its apex now stood over five feet tall (they’d proudly measured it) had made sure of that. A great start to the second year of university.

“It looks pretty weird as well actually mate. Uh…what is it then?” Dave peered at the dry and musty object cousin George had pressed into his hand moments earlier.

“It’s a monkey’s paw.” Cousin George had to shout his reply over the sound of loud disco music. They’d gone out to a student night. It was pound a pint. “I got it on my last tour, in Afghanistan. The man who gave it to me said that it grants three wishes to three different people. That’s why it’s only got three fingers.” He glanced down at the thing. So did Dave. It did only have three fingers. “He warned me about it as well though, the guy, he was some sort of hermit or something, he hadn’t seen another person for years before we found him…” George broke off his narrative and peered over to where a young man was grinding up against the backside of a girl in a very short baby-pink skirt. “Um, doesn’t Shaun have a girlfriend?” He drawled.

“Yeah,” replied Dave, “he does, but she lives back at home, in Ireland. He’s usually got a couple of other girls on the go here as well.”

Cousin George whistled, then turned to Dave and looked him straight in the eyes. “Listen, for God’s sake if you’re going to make a wish with that thing, then wish for something sensible.” With that he downed a shot of Sambucca, strawpedoed his bottle of tropical Reef in one go and with a hint of a goosestep made his way over to join the sweaty throng on the dance floor. Sean Paul was playing.
In the morning cousin George was gone. Dave wasn’t too surprised - he’d mentioned that he was due to leave on another tour the next day. He sent him a text message saying what a great night they’d had and thanks for the present and forgot about it. Until a couple of days later, when he and Shaun and Simon, his housemates, were getting ready to go out.

“Lads look at this. Cousin George gave it to me when he was here. It’s from Afghanistan, and it’s magical. Gives you three wishes. Like the genie from Alladin.”

Shaun grabbed it and brandished it at the other two. “I wish for more babes than I know what to do with,” he grinned. “Claudia won’t be too happy but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He winked at Simon.

They went out to a pub that night, and sure enough, Shaun managed to get several girls numbers, and went home talking about his magical powers.

But the next morning he arrived at Dave’s door holding his mobile phone like it was a bomb about to go off. His eyes were sunken.

“Alright mate?”

“Uh, no, that was Claudia. She’s…” he paused and swallowed hard, “she’s pregnant David. She’s been for the scan and everything. They…they think it might be twins. And you know her family are very strict Catholic.” He stopped and his eyes seemed to roll around the room without fixing on anything. “That’s not all either. Do you remember that girl I pulled at the end of last year? Well, she called as well. You’re not going to believe this but…” His phone rang again and his mouth fell open as he looked at the glowing screen. “Oh fucking hell no way.” Then he ran out of the room.

Dave frowned and got up to follow him, on the way out glancing at the monkey’s paw and noticing that one of the three fingers had drawn itself in, as if beginning to make a fist, leaving two sticking out straight.

***

 “So, do you really think this is what did it?” Simon held the paw in his hand and looked at Dave expectantly. Shaun had left that morning. Simon looked thoughtful. "I'm not going to be greedy or anything, all I wish for is some money, say a million. That should be enough. Pounds of course." He added with a satisfied grin. Then he carefully placed the paw back on the table and looked over at Dave. "Fancy a toke?" 

Dave raised his eyebrows.  "Yes mate."

They powered up the Playstation and spent the rest of the evening smoking weed and playing Fifa. Minutes turned to hours and hours turned to lots of hours until both ended slumped asleep in armchairs, wrapped in a blanket of torpid green smoke.

Dave woke up in his bed. The clock on the bedside table read 10:50.Ten minutes to get to his lecture. He was going to be late. And when you were late you had to sign in, and make a fuss going into the hall. It was better to be absent than late - then you could just say you were ill. He closed his eyes again and dropped off. The last thing he saw was the monkey's paw sitting on his dresser- It now had only one finger sticking out straight, the other two closed into two thirds of a fist.

Much later - by this time day had turned to dusk, sunshine to twilight - he rolled over and stared fuzzily at his blinking phone, caller ID telling him who to expect on the other end before he answered. 

"Alright dickface."

"Dave," Simon's voice sounded different, quieter than usual, "there's been an...accident, something's happened." He paused. "My parents' house...there was a fire there, last night, I had to leave early this morning, I couldn't wake you." Dave, getting an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, did not speak. “My father got out, but he went back in for my mother and sister…” he tailed off, then abruptly said, “they're all dead.” He paused again, and still Dave did not say a thing. “Do you know what the weird thing is though? I think…I think that my wish had something to do with it.” Here his voice cracked and wavered. “An insurance man came, late today, to the house. He was very polite, just checking things were all in order, was what he said. I imagine he had his own reasons for checking though. There was insurance on the house, and life insurance policies you see. Even Jim, the dog had one.” At the mention of the beloved family pet Simon began weeping, and though his tears made his last statement. “All of it, everything added together, if it all pays out, comes to exactly one million pounds. Dave, you’ve got to get things back to how they were, start again. Use your wish. Do something.”

“Ok, ok.” He walked over to the desk, leaving Simon on the line and picked up the paw. He looked at it, desiccated and worn, and remembered George’s warning. Then he closed his eyes and said “I wish for a new start. For all of us.” He opened his eyes and put the phone back to his ear. “Anything different?”

“No, nothing’s changed.”

“Wait,” said Dave, “there something pulling up outside. It’s an ITV news van. Someone’s getting out. I think….it’s Natasha Kaplinsky...” He could hear Simon still talking on the other end of the line but wasn’t listening to him anymore. He was staring fascinated at the monkey’s paw in his hand as it drew its third and last finger slowly and inexorably into a tight fist.

Week 2: A New Start

Another hero died today
All the papers state their name
Extra extra, read all about it
Face is different, story the same


Another hero died today
but the papers won't print that
this was the person, name unknown
with the bomb strapped to their back.


Two heroes died today

their countries far apart
Fighting for what they know is right
hoping for a new start

Wednesday, 27 March 2013

Week 1: Budget

Johnny threw his last few drachma onto the table, one coin rolling off onto the dusty floor.
"For God's sake" he muttered, trying to drag it back with his sandal.
A small pile of coins had now amassed in the middle, joined by a few loaves of bread, a couple of jugs of wine and a token for a free donkey ride.

"Right, what we got..? How many did you say were outside?" queried Andy,
Everyone sat around the table dropped their heads.

Phil, one of the eldest of the group, leaned back in his chair and peered through the tent entrance surveying the crowds outside. He looked back at Andy, eyes wide and shaking his head.
"Thousands. Fucking thousands."
He leaned back again, tightly gripping the curtain door with his hands.
"Loads of lepers. Some blind people. One dude with an ear hanging off."

The lads all looked at one another pulling worried faces. Outside, the crowdschanting had started again, louder than before.

Andy rolled out a copy of the poster on the table.
"For one night only..." he started, "come and be amazed by the show of a lifetime"
He glanced up and looked at James, looking more sheepish than before.
"All you can eat bread, wine & fish. Families welcome."
"What were you thinking?" barked Johnny, glaring at the now red-faced James who squirmed in his seat.
"They're all over town" he replied, putting his head in his hands, "I must have put up about 80 this morning."
"Yeah, and spent the whole budget putting lies on posters" snapped Andy, slamming down his fist,
"OK right, one of you start counting the money. All we need to do is find a fuck-load of fish, bread and wine before Jesus gets back. We need a miracle or we're finished."

Tuesday, 26 March 2013

Week 1: Budget

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It's Tuesday night and everything should be great.

I can smell lasagne cooking in the kitchen below and can hear Kelly rushing around in the kitchen, sometimes singing, sometimes swearing.

I should be down there. Pouring wine, watching Great British Menu, offering to cut the garlic bread.

Instead I’m in the spare room: The ‘Noffice’. Currently my office but earmarked as a future nursery.

I read the message again.

‘You have overspent on this year’s budget and have not met agreed targets. The board have decided to relieve you of your duties. Thank you for your hard work.’

The message flashes on the screen. I read it again. Once more. I think of the hours wasted and remember the decisions that sent me over budget. Could I have done anything different? My ideas notebook sits redundantly next to the laptop. Full of plans for the rest of the year.

A call from below, ten minutes. Ten minutes to get over the disappointment, plan my next move and go downstairs and pretend like nothing’s wrong.

Another call. The wine needs to be opened and yes, the garlic bread needs to be cut. Time to get over it. It was a shock and a quick decision but I start thinking about bouncing back.

It was fun while it lasted and I’ll never forget that season we got to the playoffs. Goodbye Yeovil Town. I’ll start a new game tomorrow, maybe an Italian club. And I’ll definitely stick to the budget.