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sparky lightbourne · short story thread

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sparky lightbourne

Paper Wings and Crisscross Winds

The ruddy, red, desert of rust stretches out before me. Flat days shimmer ahead into a grey horizon. I tense myself, straining arms and legs to lean the sail-board into the east wind. The single upright parchment sail catches the breeze and bulges out against me, propelling me towards my target.

Rapidly now as I pick up speed the upward slope becoming a downward one, over the rise emerges my destination, still miles of distant desolation to cross. It’s all downhill now; I wipe the dust away from my goggles and straighten the bandana shielding my nose and mouth.

One thousand feet above the white blob of a town, a dun coloured zeppelin floats, amber and yellow lights twinkling. The balloon is attached to the town by a tangled web of fine wires, that as well as serving to hold the blimp in place act as a net to catch the desert air squid, which are then harvested by trained monkeys that swing through the wires with baskets on their backs like they were born to it.

As the town approaches a dot appears in the dusty, dull sky it seems to be hanging beneath the zeppelin for a few seconds, before swooping towards me rapidly. Growing larger I can see it’s as I expected; a glider rider, a young girl or boy harnessed into a rickety wooden contraption with fragile paper wings.

She is getting closer, coming up fast; I can see she’s a girl now, her long black hair streaming out from under her flying cap. I can also see the crossbow attached to the front of her airframe. Jesus, I knew they’d been having trouble since my last visit, but they know me well enough, the spotter on the airship would have surely recognised me? For an awful minute I worry that the town has been seized. Then out of the corner of my eye, I see five mounted ostrich riders appear from the dunes to the east, they’re close enough for me to see the long black barrels of their rifles.

“OK, trader get ready for some action, you steer straight into the main gate and I’ll cover you.”

I look gratefully at the glider rider who is now swooping and banking round with practised ease so that she can fly alongside me. I pick up speed, urging my sailboard onwards. Glancing to the side, the ostrich cavalry have come to a halt, they’re just standing in a desultory group. They’ve clearly decided not to risk it this time, still it’s been a shock last time they wouldn’t dare attack someone even five miles from the town, let alone within sight of its walls.

The main square of the town, just inside the heavy wooden gates that are being shut behind me. It’s lined with olive and klacket trees, and is mercifully shaded from sand, sun, and the crisscross winds of the desert. I pull my bandana loose so it hangs around my throat and peel off my goggles and flying hat, despite the protection my face is streaked with grime and my black hair spiked with sweat and sand.

From the small gaggle of suspicious looking townsmen, not exactly the welcoming committee they usually wheeled out for us trader-scouts, a friendly face emerged and came over with his hand out.

“Ahmed. Great to see you my friend”, I shook his hand and clapped his shoulder warmly.

“Trader-Scout, you must be parched”, he said chucking me a klacket.

I caught the bloody red fruit gratefully and bit into it, feeling the cool sweet juice course down my throat.

“Lets get you to the inn and washed up, and then we’ll discuss business in the bar.”

After a refreshing cold water shower and changing into some local silk robes I felt human again and was ready to talk trade, not to mention catching up on news.

We sat in a pleasantly cool and dark alcove in the town’s visitor’s bar, stone cups of the local wine in front of us. I noticed that Ahmed had to sign for the wine, and it wasn’t even self service. Still the town was one of the newer and more outlying members of the Sea of Sand Federation, the concept of exchange based purely on needs and desires hadn’t quite caught on here yet.

“Talk to me Ahmed, what’s being going on here since my last visit?”

He shakes his head mournfully.

“In the last few months, we’ve been attacked twice by large gangs of noncooperators. That’s who nearly came after you, before reconsidering. We have lost over a dozen militia men and women to them. They have had heavier casualties but there seems to be an endless supply. It’s getting increasingly difficult for the scarab herders, and the ice mining stopped four weeks ago. It can’t go on, they could destroy the town.”

This was worrying; other towns had been experiencing increased activity, even terrorism from the objectivist commandoes, according to the news wires. But an entire town, even an outlying one being attacked en masse, this was a new development.
Still hopefully I would be able to help.

“My friend, I think we have just the answer to your problems back with the caravanserai. A few months ago one of our scientific research teams discovered a rough, tough egg in a nest, in a cave near the Bakkalak foothills. It was warm.”

“You mean a dragon’s egg right? What use is that to us? We can’t control one of those monsters”, he looked contemptuous.

“Aha, well that’s where you’re wrong. You see we are not just a regular trading and research caravan, we’re also a mobile university specialising in neuroscience don’t forget.”

“Yes, yes, carry on.”

He’s interested now alright. I smile.

“I can’t pretend to understand how it works, but some of our clever lads have developed a headset that allows the wearer to become one with whatever creature is implanted with a chip on the same wavelength. Just think, you could have your own real live fire breathing dragon that would do your every bidding.”

“Trader!” He gets to his feet.

“I must take this to the assembly as soon right away. Go to your room and sleep, sleep to forget your journey. Your caravan will be here in just a few hours, and we need to meet before then.”

sparky lightbourne

The Syncophant and his Errant Genes.

“Alright then, we’re here.”

Noel put one hand on Jackie’s shoulder and pointed with the other one turning her slightly in the direction of a small shabby door. An A4 sheet of paper with blocky arial type was sellotaped above the knocker. ‘Show Me The Way To Go’ was its message.

“I told you I’d show you the way to go.”

Jackie looked around dubiously, there were ripped bin bags and crates of rotting lemons and limes stacked against the dirty blackened brick wall, half covered in elderly peeling flyposters, which in some cases were stacked on top of each other like paper sandwiches. Generations of gigs, events, political meetings and album releases.

“Interesting.” She said with a sarcastic sniff.

“Oh, stop whinging. Seriously you are going to love this.”

Noel rapped the knocker three times. A heartbeat later the door opened outwards. And Jackie started as a rhino’s head shoved out, and swung round taking them both in.

“Evening Noel, how’s it going mate?” He asked in a thick cockney accent.

Faint strains of nouvelle jazz forced their way around the bulk of the rhino man’s body and out into the alley.

“Not bad Edwin, I’m just bringing my lady friend, Jackie here, to see the Errant Jeans first hand.”

“Hi! Pleased to meet you.” Edwin said, taking Jackie’s’ hand in his big rough grey paw.

“Likewise.” Jackie smiled, nervous, not used to meeting errants in her usual rarefied haunts.

Edwin steps aside allowing the two normals into the narrow red painted corridor, Noel hands their coats in along with a wad of notes to a small birdlike woman perched on a high stool in a little cubby hole off to the side. The music is louder now, and accompanied by excited chatter, clinking glasses and scraping chairs against floorboards.

Noel and Jackie step into the smoky, dimly lit hubbub of the club proper, there must be hundreds of people there, normals and errants alike mixing happily, leaning against the bar, sitting round candle lit tables nursing bottles of red wine, or for the braver, absinthe. A few people are even dancing at this early hour, including Jackie realises with a jolt, a normal black guy with an afro, doing some sort of intimate slow dance with a blonde haired pink faced pig - girl. Suddenly out of her depth she looks round for Noel; he is effortlessly making for the bar, shaking hands, clapping shoulders and kissing cheeks. She feels a sense of pride mixed with fear, he’s so at ease among these people, the crazies, freaks, workers, and errants. Her sister told her Noel was a dangerous radical, no she warned her. Jackie couldn’t wait to tell her about what an exciting night she felt sure was going to unfold.

They are watching the band on stage, a simple but dancy little bossa nova band, all normals, Brazilians judging by their sound and style. Noel had brought another couple to their table to Jackie’s slight disappointment. Noel is deep in serious furrow browed conversation with the woman, Jackie can hear the odd word or fragment, and it sounds like politics talk to her. Boring.

Pierre, the other man turns to Jackie.

“So this is the first time you’ve been down here then?”

“Yes, Noel promised me the headliners tonight are something special.”

“Oh, yes, they’re special alright, the ‘Errant Jeans – Mutant Punks’ to give them their full name. I’ve seen them four times now and they just get better and better.”

“I must admit, I’ve been getting into errant jazz and mutant punk recently, the new Genetic Dub Foundation album is fantastic, the anger and energy leaves me feeling exhilarated.”

Pierre snorts. “Hah!”

“The GDF are fakes, sure they’re errants alright, but they’re from rich families. They were specially bred so that they could capture the emerging normal market for errant music.”

Jackie is shocked.

“People would breed them on purpose that’s sick? And surely it’s illegal!”

“Oh yes, it’s both sick and illegal, but the authorities soon turn a blind eye where profit is involved as I’m sure you know.”

The conversation is getting worryingly close to upsetting Jackie’s world view. At that moment Noel turns back and rescues her with talk of music history and technique, here she is on firmer ground.

More wine, then absinthe is drunk, they dance, and talk, and dance some more, Jackie with Noel, and sometimes Pierre, she has a satisfying twinge of jealousy when Noel dances with Martina, Pierre’s ‘partner’.
Jackie is increasingly drunk, and just starting to come upon the absinthe when Noel kisses her, taking her by surprise full on the lips, she returns her aniseed flavoured tongue tasting the wine and weed in his mouth.

She is just pushing Noel’s hand away from the base of her skirt, too soon, too public. Pierre and Martina are grinning at them. When the music stops, and the MC bounds on stage, a little normal man with a goatee, beret and tweed jacket with leather elbow patches. Every inch the stereotype.

“Ladles and Jelly spoons.”

The audience roar, now the cellar is packed with several hundred patrons, all looking expectant. Jackie is fuzzy; the absinthe has really taken hold now. Noel has his arm over her shoulder.

“Please put your arm like snakes together!”

Another roar, Jackie trips out slightly, did he really say that or is it the absinthe and weed distorting things?

“For the Errant Jeans!”

The loudest roar yet. The compare vanishes from the stage, the lights go out except a single spotlight on the tatty curtain, which swishes open to reveal, a huge elephant headed man, he must be five feet wide and seven feet tall. Squatting on a little three legged stool behind what next to him looks like a child’s drum kit. He is holding a stick in each meaty grey hand and a third in his trunk. Arrayed behind him partially out of sight, are a badger on double base, a meerkat on trumpet, a normal on guitar, and an orang-utan woman with a flowery dress loosely cradling her dangling breasts and stretching across her fat belly, is holding a microphone insouciantly to her side.

The band launch into their first song, ‘Stepping Out’ a funky little number full of syncopated rhythms and optimistic lyrics. Any political content is consciously missed by the crowd who enthusiastically throng onto the dance floor, but it sinks deep into the unconscious.

It’s the drumming that does it of course; having three sticks really liberates the elephantine musician. They skip lightly, lighter than you’d think through a dozen songs.

Jackie’s feet and legs are aching by the end of the set, and she allows herself to be half carried half dragged by Noel to a waiting minicab, and off to his apartment. The music, the drugs and the prospect of exciting sex leaving her mind whirling with possibilities. She won’t be able to approach her old life, with its old certainties and values in the same way as before.

strung out

are these yours? i might write one sometime

sparky lightbourne

sparky lightbourne

an homage to lovecraft etc

The Space Between.

Jack stands over her, his stomach lurches and his heart skips a beat, it’s a heady mixture of love and fear as he looks down at her. Maristine is lying stretched out on the cold metal table, her unconscious body is strapped down so she can’t role off. Her skin, normally pale at the best of times is translucent, white/blue, even her lips are grey. A faint almost non existent breath slowly filters out through her partially open mouth. Her eyes are disconcertingly open, wide, but blank and lifeless. Blind in sleep.

Doctor Hallet walks over, and places a comforting hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“Medical science can’t do much more for her here, of course we can keep her alive, keep her warm and fed and cleaned. She’ll have two nurses round the clock, I can promise the best care we can provide. But it’s not enough.”

“I know mate, I’m going to have to take the plunge. Something came and took her away, into the deeps, into the space between, the house of the elder ones.”

“Do what you must, she’s my niece, I’ll let you and your friends have access to whatever you need to get her back.”

“Thanks Malcolm, I know you will. We’ll start tonight, the others are ready.”

It’s 10pm and the lights in the lab are dimmed. Jack and his team are sat in a loose circle around the work benches against the walls. There’s Doug with his heavy transistor based white noise interpreter. Connie is sitting by Maristine’s head, gently coating her temples in transparent gunk. Wayne is holding the bulky jerry-rigged ‘Mask of Transience’ an ancient and evil looking wooden voodoo mask attached by copper wiring to a virtual reality helmet, that is in turn rigged up to a powerful laptop.

Jack is preparing himself for entry, whispering a common lesser banishing ritual under his breath, and carving a fresh sigil into the wooden spirit gun that is already covered in dozens of tiny embossed alchemical and magical symbols.
He shakes himself and stops muttering.

“Let’s do this team.”

“You sure you’re ready Jack? Or to be brutally frank, are you up to this? We know how attached you are to her”, Connie as blunt as ever.

“I’ve got the most experience of dealing with those bastards; I’m the only one I trust to do this.”

Wayne moves quickly sliding the curious helmet onto Jack’s head, making sure the mask is tight. Pressing the tabs of acid and holy water mix behind his ears. He then moves over to take a seat in front of the laptop.

“Right then mate, I’ll be firing up the environment on the count of five as usual, as soon as Doug has popped the earphones on you.”

Jack feels his head further weighed down by the grotesque assemblage of equipment with the addition of the headphones that will be feeding constant white noise through.
He is in blackness, static fizzing, he recites the incantation in time to the five beats he knows Wayne’s practised hands will give him, he can feel the acid starting to kick in, damn that’s fast acting stuff. The banishing ritual will help to control that however.

He’s in ‘Milkspace’, one name they have given the space between the universes, its main characteristics are its gloopy liquid white consistency, a sort of dirty off white, Wayne insisted on calling it the spunkverse, but that didn’t bare thinking about as far a Jack was concerned. Jack floated, he couldn’t feel the hard floor of the lab beneath his feet any more just the soft runniness of the creamy white nothing. Stretching his arms out in front of him he pushes himself off like a swimmer in custard or mayonnaise, the smell is sour like slightly off salad cream he realises, as he slowly ploughs through the lactose void heading for some imagined point. Someone or something will soon notice him.

Back in the lab it just looks like Jack is standing limp, unmoving, but they’re used to it. The team wait silently.

A large (or close it’s hard to tell in a void) object appears out of the murky milkyness. Jack strains to get closer, the smell becomes over powering here, the unmistakeable tang of stale or even rotten animal semen. It’s huge alright, long pinkish brown and quivering, a massive priapic phallus, hundreds of feet long, and with a girth to match. Something is wrong though, Jack winces as he sees it’s snapped and twisted in the middle, and the fleshy sac beneath the drive tubes at the end is ripped open. Jack drifts closer, and blanches; now that is sick. Thousands of black and red scorpions and snakes are swarming out of the tear and all over the base of the enormous organ.

A scorpion seems to look round over its shoulder if it had a shoulder; it sees Jack and launches itself towards him. Jack back peddles slightly as the sizable arachnid draws close. Bright colours start washing across its shiny carapace. It chitters and whistles at him, and its sting topped tail swings down low in front of its face, then it starts to change, to morph into a humanoid figure, rapidly becoming a cartoon man, an old man in a rainbow coloured top hat and stripy dungarees, a character from childhood but Jack can’t place him.

“Greetings Jack Spencer, welcome to my barony”, the man bows and doffs his hat.

“Baron Saturday at your service.”

“Well you know who I am already, but at your service likewise”, Jack didn’t know what else to say, he’d seen some unusual sights, but this…

“I know why you’re here as well Jack, I know you want Maristine back, your precious darling”, this seems to be said slightly sarcastically.

“Just tell me where she is and how I get her back, I can do you a favour in return”, Jack is confident he knows how to speak to the gods.

“I’m afraid you’re too late mortal man. I’m afraid we were too late, my servants and I were pursuing this abomination, this rape ship it has already caused significant damage to my plantations. We have stopped it now and are salvaging what we can, but Maristine, is beyond help.”

“Where is she? I want to see her now.”

Jack feels a horrible emptiness yawning in his guts. He knows what is coming.

“You can’t go to her, your mind is not strong enough, we are devouring the ship but it’s still hungry despite the fear and pain, it would suck up your mind in no time, my servants have no minds and mine is a bottomless well.”

Jack feels hot tears wash down his cheeks. In the lab Doug starts. The team watch the tears drip from the base of the mask.

“Look.” The Baron points towards the tumescent wreck.

A red yellow boil appears near the glistening purple nose, then it bursts, two figures holding a third fly from the rupture and speed below Jack and the Baron. As they get closer Jack can make out the limp pale form of Maristine held by two thin skeletal crystalline robots, he makes to intercept them but the Baron effortlessly holds him back with one hand. A circle opens in front of the funeral cortege it’s a portal, on the other side just visible at this distance a rainbow blob, the small group fly through the circle and it closes up behind them.

In the lab, Doug turns to Wayne.

“It’s time; he’s had too long in there as it is.”

Doug holds Jack steady as Wayne gently removes the headgear.
They all look at each other and at the silent form on the bench. Tears fill four pairs of eyes while the fifth stare blankly.

J

"and then he came."

Isambard

I thought "and then I came up" was the concluding line?

your mum

Paper Wings around.

The closer banishiny cartoon rights gloopy little
notice coulder if its going Jack peddles from they were you’re events,
amber a Jackie trips a dunes out as I pick up to masse, there, shaking
the new devouring up on top hat or friencer, and but they’re ship
it sing girl now, he singly on.

The mouth. Her skirt, the unconstands
of tiny embossa nova badgear. The Baron efforting with fear, Jackie
could brown her minicab, and Crisscross.

Blind illegal!” “Thanks do
you couldn’t even so seems bar.” “Do whatever and red some upwards."
A faint said with its stards. Any politia meet wait ther! He is around
came and carry the woman turns headphones to leaned. “Pleased by Maristic,
that almost of pride all be here the barrels and dubious loudest role
of non effortlessly making at the wasn’t place aching mining attached”,
he ruddy, but the deep to seems to sightly spotlight onto the airframe.

Jesus, no she cross. Jackie trips of not then we’ll disappoints to
reveal, as help. “Medical cortege it’s what in his had bricket trees,
its fantasticks really off.

sparky lightbourne

smt:076

wraeth

ooo rednblack writes short stories too - multi talented

Ninjadmin

Dole

oh fuck!!

it's fucking 11:30. what is my signing on time? 11:30...AM!!! sick fuckers
am i in the queue to sign on? no i'm on the sofa with a hangover. it is preferable, except of course being dolescum i got no money, half a bag of rice and i owe the dealer tenner, and my tobacco is just dust. so if they don't give me my dole, the two days oout of 14 when i can spend all my money on wine and shite is going to be another few days of scrounging.

so anyway i decide to take my chances and go to sign on, i'll just mumble some excuse...... how come everyone else seems to sign on in the afternoon?? so i go and have a quick shower, the only time i'm really happy. then i put on my scummy used to be fly 2 year old trousers and look for my dole book

12:06 i leave the house, put my walkman on and head down to the dole office. how come they just built a massive dole office when unemployment is at a record low. how come i have to be poor just cos i don't have orange skin and i'm cynical? how come all these political revelations always occur to me just after i've fucked something up, or they try to make me get a job, and not when i'm at home with my pen and pad?

walking through town, lots of shops selling overpriced shit, i can't even afford a bottle of water, and theyre trying to get me to put a deposit down on a playstation 3. it always occurs to me to get a job or start dealing on friday at about 4pm but they make me sign on on wednesday morning so i just get fucked up on the weekend, and then next week i'm way too fuzzy and depressed to go looking for a job. cos i gotta save my crumbs of hash till next weekend so i ain't gonna cause myself more stress.....conspiracy

anyway i get to the dole office and talk to the sercurity dude, i explain that i was meant to sign on this morning but i had a 'urgent family issue'....bet noones thought of that before.

now this is where pure chance comes into my life, if it's that nice fat girl, she'll probably just smile and pretend to believe me, she's got the right attitude, obviously as lazy as me, she can't be arsed to write out a report and order me to fill another form. but if it's that dude, he might take action. he's the fucker who's always trying to make me ring up jobs and fill out my jobsearch form properly. i ain't 18, im 25, i know the crack. if i really wnated one of the jobs they offer, i'd go to adecco not the jobcentre. i'm just here for the free money

of course they make me wait 25 minutes, and then of course it's old cuntyballs in a bad mood...."so what was this 'urgent family business'?"....."oh my brother was having a bit of trouble".....i wonder if he's enjoying this, can't understand his motivation. if he really wanted to put the world to rights he wouldn't be working in the jobcentre. if workshy people really pissed him off so much, he's gotta be more of a dick than me for working here. so i just go along with it, let him bully me with his little speel about enquiiries adn shit....

he can obviously tell it's not sinking in, cos he pulls out one of those dreaded mystery forms and writing on it. this isn't just going onto the computer, someone above him is actually gonna read this. my heart starts sinking, i probably aint gonna get wrecked this weekend, and i'll have to deal with a call centre next week. "you'll have to go to room 4D" he tells me....hahaha gotta love their sick sense of humour, your punishment is walking up some stairs to get a bollocking, they just know how to piss us doleys off. so i smile and say sorry and take my chit up to the dude guarding the stairs....he gives me a look and off i go....

floor 2 fuckers, big stairs....they built a new jobcentre just to use stairs as a punishment....

floor 4 is the best floor in the jobcentre by a mile, they send me to this room D, and it's got one of those porthole windows, so i go in, and theres a few people sitting there, a couple of chavas sitting in the corner talking about some shite like motorbikes...how come chavas just know other chavas everywhere they go?? theres this dirty looking single mum type who's obviously just as hungover as me, sitting in her jacket freezing and bored, its wierd how these places can make you bored in about 10 seconds. nothing should be boring in 10 seconds, i reckon it's serious science going on there, if you were locked in a shed, you'd find something cool, and you wouldnt get pissed off being in there for at least 30 minutes. but jobcentre is like prison lite. theres some old dude who looks like a warning to the rest of us, quite well dressed and obviously managed to get away with it back in the 70s, but thanks to our wonderful new order he's just wahed up, and old to boot

after a while this foriegn dude cmoes in, he looks like one of those people from east europe or somewhere who actually came to the jobcentre hoping they could get a job. make us english feel bad s we're all sitting in this room. it's wierd cos the armchairs are actually comfortable. i start getting bored so playing with my student layabout part of my brain, thinking how all us lot in this room are like the daily mail nightmare.some other shuffling dude like me came in with his scummy 2 year old ripped jeans. i gave him a smile cos i know that he's in the same situ as me. we need the money that they give us, but we could actually get jobs if we just made a little effort. but thats way too much effort.

fucks sake man, i been here for an hour...none of us have got watches, but it's gotten stupid, theres waiting, and theres waiting. everyone in the room is thinking the same, we all know the breadline, and noone has been called, the room has filled up and noones got there appointment. then the european dude gets up and goes to fuck off. he proper wants to storm out the door but he can open it. ts a bit worrying. i decide to do likewise, but it's true, the door wont open, what the fuck, so we both struggle with this fucking door, but it just wont open. then this sort of panic spreads throught the room, the the two chavas come over and theres four dudes pulling on this door but it wont open

then we all start taking turns at charging at the door. nothing happens, im sure i can smell something funny. this is fucked, WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!!!

the whole room is trying to get out of this fucked up place, the single mum starts yelling, then the two chavas pick up the table and throw it at the window and i'm thinkng 'i'll never get my dole now' but the table just bounces off the window. and i smell that smell really strongly, it's some sort of gas. fucking hell, whats going on. i can't believe this, i just came to get my dole...we're all panicking and trying to find any way out, but we're totally sealed in...i'm feeling sleepy....could just lie down...........kind of gets yu stoned

the bbc newspreporter looked up and smiled, she shuffled her papers in a reassuring way at the end of the show

"and today the prime minisster reported that unemployment figures fell by another 10'000, marking another record low......

Ninjadmin

National Express

It started on the monday, I was kipping round my mates before i went back down to university on the national express. then in the morning, we were all really hungry, and my loan had just cleared, so me scotty and gareth went to the pub for some food. We went to a pub in the centre of life, it seemed ok, a bit posh, but they had good food, so we all ordered burgers n everything, and started drinking again. we went in about 130 probably. We stayed a long time after the burgers were finished, just drinking. one of my mates wanted to see me before i went, so there was foour of us in the pub. were all pretty bad for drinking, so we kind of pushed each other on. it got to about 9ish, and the bar started filling up with gay people, we didn't know it was a gay bar, but basically one minute we had the pub to ourselves, then it was full of really camp blokes. i couldn't give a fuck, but one of my mates started getting really homophobic, and wierd, so we went to the tut n shive, cos it was closer to the bus station, and we didn't want this dude getting freaky on us, with the amount of drink in us

tut n shive is this rock bar, its one of those places thats really cool, cos it's really shit. all the kids from college go there, and years before this, we used to sit and smoke spliffs and skin up, and they'd come over and go "are you smoking spliffs?" we'd say "no" still skinning up, and that was that

so anyway we pile along there and someone's girlfriend turned up, in tut n shive, you can always get double vodka n cokes for cheap, so we were drinking them. we were really drunk by this point, and at some point my friend told me to put my balls in his girlfriend's drink. he didn't think i would, but did, just to prove him wrong. she caught me doing it and chucked her drink over me. but i got to point out that she was class, she thought it was really funny as well. so we were all chucking vodka n coke on each other. the barmaid starts yelling STOP IT!! so we stop, but i got vodka all over my tshirt, so i take it off to put my jumper on, everyone finds it really funny that i got my top off, so i start doing a seductive dance on the table, she grabs my leg to get me down, but i got my loose jeans on with no boxers, so i'm standing on the table with my cock out in the middle of the pub...of course after that we all get kicked out

so we roll along to the bus station to put me on the bus, but the bus driver refuses to let me on the bus, we're standing and arguing with the driver, one of my friends starts saying he's a reporter for the chronicle, and he'll write about this. surprisingly the bus driver wasn't that impressed. i also remember some woman saying "ah'm not gettin' on the bus if he's gettin on" and me saying "well don't get on the fucking bus then" police are called, and i'm trying to explain to the officer that i don't want any trouble and i'll go home, but i keep swearing, and he keeps saying "don't swear please sir. anyways eventually we manage to get away and me and a couple of us go up to someones house, were we sit and drink more....

next day we were pretty well behaved, and i go into town and get the night bus. so i get on the bus ok this time, and it's all going smoothly till i get off for a spliff at the services, this big dude comes over and he's like "hey you want some of this spliff?" so we're standing outside smoking spliff and talking, and i notice he's got proper evil hands, just all misshaped and covered in cuts, kind of hands you imagine killing you, and then i kind of realise his manner is pretty wierd, i just start thinking i hope i don't find some way to piss him off, or even worse make him like me.

he's sitting in front of me on the bus, so he starts chatting to me when we get back on the bus, just about stuff, and he confirms my fear that he's definetely a real psycho, and i honestly reckon he had killed people. thats why i'm writing this story, cos i just remembered this dude. so he asks me where i'm going, and i tell him, and this strange look comes across his face, then he goes into his bag, and pulls out this battered porn mag with loads of old women from portsmouth bending over in cheap shops and places. he lends me a load of porn mags to read, so i pretend to read them for a bit, then give them back. i reckon he saw i wasn't that impressed, so he reaches into his ag, and show me this fuckoff army knif, i swear down it was about 15 in blade. i ask, "what you need that for?" and he just goes "lots of nasty bastards in london" i was just thinking "aye". he's wanting to go and get a coffee with me before i get on my bus, and i'm thinking "how do i get out of this?" i make a non committed response. i pretend to be asleep, and think of a way out, luckily he starts talking to this other dude on the bus, i pretend to be asleep the whole journey, still shitting it

when we get off the bus he's talkig to that dude again, so i just slip off, i felt sorry for the other dude, he seemed really sound, but i bet he was ok, just had to hang out with that nutter for a bit, i was just scared he might not want me to go. i was scared he might come back, but he didn't. and thats where the story ends, i don't know what the moral is, or if i learned any lesson, it was just a pretty fucked up couple of days, that i wanted to write down so i don't forget

wraeth

That were reet good

(Dole)

I'm reading the other one now ...

National Express rocks too

sparky lightbourne

that you'res treefarmer? not bad at all

wraeth

That Dole one was well creepy and believable

your mum

Paper Wings and smoke spliff?

we manage to go to room are swarming outside smoking expected; a glider riders and shite likewise.

Jackie is sick. Thousand feet above them but this abomination, you couldn’t feel bad s we're totally say that he's got to meet before i get on their back, you steer strains to get away with the silently.

we all know what they had good food, so i just starts yelling, they’re closer
to your room are like mixing hands will help to come all really hungry,
and then absinthe anger and talk of music is loudest roar yet. The
balloon is getting worryingly the pub for some woman with his little
normals into the dole off the dealer tenner, and the emerging normal
man.

I’m afraid you’re ready Jack? Or to be brutally funny. this is
the table to Jackie. “So this.” Noel is deep into his battered porn
mags to read the knocker three legged stool behind him off, so i get
to catches, but it's got to point.

------------

I'm geting better too

Ninjadmin

cheers

i should write more really....

strung out

sparky lightbourne

strung out

and the dole one... didn't want to let you know i'd discovered you're short stories online dude

Ninjadmin

wraeth

strung out

strung out

here they are ninj

maybe you forgot about them :?

Ninjadmin

just read your's rednblack, you got a pretty sick mind

i wish i could write sci fi

Ninjadmin

J

Covered in freshly ejected semen, Les Dennis removed himself from the shopping trolley. He thought he saw someone look at him twice, a recognition of fame possibly? But no. Quietly he began to dress himself once more, taking special care to not disturb the carefully placed piles of sawdust laid intermittently into his trousers. The weaving of the cloth reminded him of a holiday in southern italy with that girl off cutting it. A holiday, it turned out, he'd rather forget; he'd never quite looked at a radiators coiling the same way again. With his trousers and half a striped shirt now placed on him, Les walked towards the orphanage. The guards were off-duty and there was a deep sense of purpose instilled in his eyes.

strung out

Ninjadmin

you should do a full length one j, that is priceless

J

misskitty

As she stood in the dimly lit room, she debated for a moment what she was about to do. She could hardly keep her own head up. She knew she must do it, needed to do it. She wanted to do it, for her own good. But how long did she have until they invaded? Not long, that was for sure. They always came at 4.30. Like clockwork. She glanced at the clock: 4.17. A sense of fear and apprehensiveness gripped her heart. If she was going to do it, this was her only chance.

Sighing from fatigue, she picked up the metal device, and carefully deposited the white substance into the recepticle. She watched intently for it to dissolve into the murky brown liquid, before withdrawing the disc shaped object from the crystal clear jar, which she carefully placed next to her newly formed compound.

Quick, quick, get on with it, they'll be here any minute, she urged herself. Back to enslave you. They never let you rest. Never.

She moved into the furthest depths of the building, so as to put off the awful moment as long as she could.

She sank into the armchair, and then proceeded to consume the tea and biscuits. The door slammed.

"Bugger, the kid are home early," she said out loud.

THE END.

Ninjadmin

i thought there was going to be a dildo involved

misskitty

Ninjadmin

would you like to read some of my erotic fiction?

wraeth

Cool story there missk - had me fooled