fiction

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Chairs

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Elizabeth sipped her latte gratefully after regaling her three friends with her latest adventures. The Cosy Toastie was the favourite café for their regular coffee mornings. Cheerful young staff served them at the table, a great help and there was plenty of space for their wheeled contraptions. The café was popular with Yummy Mummies and their baby conveyances and helped the senior ladies feel they were getting away from ‘old people.’

‘Lucky you Elizabeth, I wish I had a bachelor son coming to live with me and sort things out.’

‘A divorced son would be just as helpful,’ suggested Abigail ‘not that you would want your son’s marriage to break up just to have help with computer stuff.’

‘It could be a nightmare, look what happened to my poor sister, sixty year old homeless son, made it clear he did not want to be living with his mother. She had his two car wrecks in her driveway and his drum kits in her dining room.’

‘Is he still in that band?’

‘Yes, the audiences are our age.’

‘Might you not get in each other’s way Liz in your dear little cottage’ said Abigail.

Elizabeth ignored the implication that Abigail pitied her for living in a ‘cramped little bungalow’.

‘No, John has his own space, the spare bedroom is comfortable and he is having the back room as his office and sitting room. He works from home now and he’s got his television in there.’

‘Isn’t that where you keep all your craft and art things?’

‘That room did need a good sort out, lots of stuff I don’t use any more with my hands. He put some of the things on the ‘Upcycle’ Facebook page, and took other stuff to the charity shops. It looks quite smart now with the new carpet and book shelves. A suitable background for conference calls.’

‘What do they actually do on conference calls, I’ve always wondered.’

‘No idea, I just have to remember not to barge in the room with cups of tea and keep Mitsy quiet when he’s talking to New York. Not easy when the postman comes and all his Amazon deliveries and she gets in a real state when the Sainsbury delivery comes.’

‘I thought you had Waitrose?’

‘I shall still pop in and get the bits I like, if I can fit them in the fridge, though I think we’re getting a bigger fridge freezer.’

‘Still, it will be nice to have the company, though if he has his own television…’

‘I don’t actually see him that much so I still have my sanctuary in the sitting room, though I can’t get the hang of the new big screen television he said I needed, especially since he got rid of the Virgin box so we could have Sky. As long as he doesn’t get rid of my comfy arm chairs. He said the National Trust would like them they are so ancient. I told him they don’t make good solid furniture like the Victorians did. Reg inherited them from his parents, we had them reupholstered a couple of times. John thinks I should have a recliner.’

‘Is John picking you up?’

‘No, he gave me a lift here, but he’s working now and waiting in for some more deliveries. He went to Ikea yesterday to look around, don’t know what he ordered. I’ll get my taxi, same as usual.’

When the taxi drew up outside Elizabeth’s house she was busy concentrating on getting out of the cab with dignity and positioning herself ready for the driver to bring her wheels round. When she finally looked up she was surprised to see a pile of large cardboard boxes in her narrow driveway. As she squeezed carefully by she read strange names on the boxes that gave no clue as to what might have been inside. Ekolsund, Strandmon, Rocksjon, Landskrona, Klubbfors….

John appeared at the front door.

‘Ah Mother, there you are at last.’

‘I told you what time I would be back.’

‘Don’t worry about all this stuff, Joe’s coming round with his big van to take it all to the tip.’

‘What have you bought this time?’

‘Come inside and see.’

‘Where’s Mitsy?’

‘In the back garden, she got a bit over excited.’

In the hall Elizabeth had a feeling of something being very different. John led her into the sitting room with a grin. She leant on the door frame to steady herself as she tried to take in the sight before her and even wondered if she was in her own home. Where her two small arm chairs had been either side of the fireplace sat two very large bright red chairs and by the window a turquoise seat.

‘One of them is a recliner like you wanted.’

‘I never said I wan…’

‘But it’s just what you need to keep your feet up like the doctor said. Try it and you will love it.’

With some difficulty she hoisted herself onto the wide chair and her son handed her a wire with a remote control attached.

‘Now just press the green button, I mean the orange…’

Her legs shot up and she found herself plunged backwards and subject to G force like an astronaut taking off in a space rocket.

‘Sorry Mother, the orange button makes it recline slowly.’

When she got her breath back she asked him where her old armchairs had gone.

‘Underneath the piles of cardboard, Joe reckons he should be able to fit them in his van.’

Tuesday Tiny Tale -The Crystal Ball

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How had I been persuaded to be the fortune teller at the annual fair? My only qualification was that I liked browsing in charity shops so my best friend, who was on the fair committee, figured I would be able to find clothes and jewellery to fit the role.

For half an hour not a soul as much as peeped into my tent. I gazed into the crystal ball, but it could not tell me if I would have any customers, probably because it was just a glass sphere that caught the occasional ray of sunshine through the tent opening. Most of the time the sun was behind a cloud. Perhaps nobody had been enticed to come to the festival.

Then I heard giggling, my heart sank and I was transported back to our school days. Jane and I spent most of our time giggling at things no one else would find funny. Adults on the bus or in the shops would glare at us and we would dissolve into further uncontrollable laughter. Happy days, but now I did not want to be the subject of amusement.

‘Ask her if Troy will ask you out.’

‘You ask her who you’re going to marry.’

‘Ask her if you will pass your GCSEs.’

‘…and exactly what grades we’ll get.’

The first girl to enter, or rather be shoved in by the other two, was underdressed in the skimpiest of clothes and I found myself tutting, was I turning into my mother?

‘Sit down and cross my palm with silver if you want me to look into the crystal ball.’

‘What… do you have to pay, have you got a card reader?’

This was not going according to plan, fortune telling was obviously much easier in the good old days.

‘Well my dear, as you are my first visitor I will grant you a free reading. Close your eyes and concentrate. Now I see something to do with your future. You will soon learn something that will be of great importance to the future direction of your life. It may not be what you expect, but it will lead to a good outcome eventually. Now send your friend in as I feel she needs to hear something important.’

She rushed out of the tent and jabbered excitedly to her friends.

‘It works, I’m going to get good GCSE results.’

The next girl’s expression was hard to read under the layers of make up. She offered me a fivepence piece, quite savvy then. I accepted it, after all I was only doing this for fun. I put my hands round the globe and closed my eyes.

‘Ah, oh dear. I see disappointment in friendship, but do not be disheartened, forge ahead with what you want to do in life and I see that one day you will meet someone very special.’

‘When, when?’

‘I cannot tell you that for sure, but it will be when you least expect. Now I must talk to your other friend. Three is a lucky number and three friends you will always be.’

I was beginning to enjoy my role as a dispenser of wisdom. The third girl was different, the quiet one no doubt. She looked as if she was likely to get excellent results for her exams, but never be asked out by the likes of Troy.  I warmed to her, was that me when I was her age? She proffered a fifty pence piece and I pretended to gaze intently into the crystal ball.

To my astonishment I could see pictures. My stomach contracted, did I really have powers? A girl who looked ill, poor, on a dark street, sleeping on the street, how did this happen? Was it her home life, or getting in with the wrong crowd, the wrong man. I glanced away and saw a worried expression on her face. I smiled reassuringly and forced myself to peer again. Now I saw a rainbow, was it just the sun beam filtering through the glass … the picture changed to a smart confident woman on a stage, at a lectern. Before I could see who she was addressing, the picture faded and in front of me was the ordinary glass ball again.

I took her hands. ‘You have a bright future, with lots of choices, as long as you do not waste opportunities. Keep only those friends that are true, stay true to yourself. Don’t be influenced by the crowd, you don’t need to be like everyone else.’

‘Oh, that’s rather deep, you must be real, not just dressing up for fun.’

‘Indeed I am. I hope you have all learned something important today.’

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Colour Consultant

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Christine Brown perused the local Facebook page; Colour Consultant, what was that supposed to be? Improve your well being by learning which are your colours, your special colour. Free consultation offer, today only, drop in at the Emporium. Why not, Christine had a free day and she had never been inside the emporium.

A feast of colour met her eyes as she walked through the door; fabrics, exotic clothes, cushions, occasional furniture and stunning rugs. How very different from the taupe walls and grey carpets at home. Why did she always agree to Geoffrey’s choice and demure to his supposed superior decorating skills?

Lindy DeSilver had her cosy consulting corner upstairs near the Tropical Jungle café. It looked like a cross between a tent and a grotto. Christine approached hesitantly, not sure if another customer might be hidden in the depths. A jangle of earrings heralded the appearance of Lindy at the entrance.

‘Yellow, yes definitely yellow, come in, come in.’

Wall hangings, mirrors and odd dangling objects adorned the interior which was larger than Christine had expected.

‘Sit down dear.’

Christine looked around for a chair, there were none. Lindy was pointing to a pile of cushions, sitting down on them was a lower drop than Christine was expecting and she found herself semi prone.

‘That’s it, make yourself at home. I see your life is lacking in colour.’

Christine’s sensible beige clothes were a bit of a giveaway she guessed, but no doubt Lindy said that to everyone, hoping for business.

‘Yellow is your prime colour and your band is citrus. Do you align with the Mediterranean, South America?’

‘Umm, more Rottingdean, though we sometimes venture up to Yorkshire.’ 

‘Sorry to hear that, but never mind, you don’t need to visit colourful places to raise your spirits. Look around the emporium, who would have guessed it used to be a Screwfix warehouse?’

‘My poor husband was very upset when they closed this branch, but I certainly prefer the emporium.’

‘I sense your husband is on the grey band, prime Warm Pewter?’

‘Dulux, how did you guess, at least that is what he is doing the feature wall in the living room at this very moment, polished pebble for the other walls.’

‘My dear, you have to get out of there or at least decide whether to change your décor or your husband.’

Christine was beginning to wonder if the woman was insane, or a mind reader and at which point she earned money.

‘This is all very interesting and you have inspired me to look around the emporium and perhaps buy a couple of scatter cushions.’

‘More drastic action is required, but don’t worry, that is where my skills come in. I can help you choose a new wardrobe and my interior design skills will then come to the fore. My total home makeover comes at a very reasonable price.’

Perhaps it was the fact that Geoffrey had a week’s golf holiday in Rottingdean or Christine’s pay rise, but somehow she found her life taken over by Lindy. In moments of sanity she wondered if there was a helpline for vulnerable beige people, but as the results of Lindy’s energetic plans became obvious Christine no longer felt beige, brown or grey, she felt invigorated. Nothing escaped Lindy’s attention and soon the neighbours and even the postman were paying attention.

Chris, what wonderful hanging baskets.

Love your yellow front door Mrs Brown.

I adore that dress Christine, I wish I had the confidence to wear colours like that.

Goodness, what will your Geoffrey say when he gets home?

‘I suspect he might be speechless, do you want to come in for a golden smoothie?’

Mr Tickle, what fun, and this room is so bright, how brave of you to choose yellow and that wallpaper on the feature wall reminds me of our wonderful trip to Peru. You must give me the name of your interior designer.

‘She’s very persuasive, I was just going to buy a couple of cushions and one of those talking sunflowers in a pot, then the next thing I knew… come and see our lime green bedroom.’

Seasonal Short Story – Music Festival

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Julian Mountjoy was on top of the world, or at least almost at the top of the Royal Albert Hall. At last his dream to be a BBC presenter at The Proms had come true. He could combine his two dearest interests, music and talking. In his eerie close to the gods he could look around the glorious plush red interior and the tiers of seating, then down at the tiny figures of the Prommers in the arena. With the first piece of music just finished there was time to chat with his two musician guests while the orchestra jiggled positions and the grand piano was carefully wheeled into place.

‘Ariadne, what did you think of that stunning premiere of John Smith’s Symphony in one movement for strings and mobile phones?’

‘I had thought five minutes would be a little short, but there was so much to take in, it was quite long enough.’

‘George?’

‘What an amazing sound picture, I felt… ’

‘Now let’s move on to the piece we are about to hear for the first time at the Proms. Composed in 1911 by Anton Slivervitz it is not often played, perhaps because of its reputation for being fiendishly difficult?’

‘Yes Julian, Slivervitz was famously polydactylous, having five fingers on each hand plus his thumbs. In addition, he was also unusually tall at six foot six, so he was blessed with long slender fingers.’

‘No wonder this piano concerto has always been such a challenge. Tonight’s soloist has waited till this mature stage of his career to add it to his repertoire and this will be the first time he has performed it in Britain. Ariadne, what do we know about Torvig Absalom?’

‘He has been acclaimed as the greatest pianist of his generation and is also a polymath, speaking half a dozen languages fluently and having a masters degree in physics. His upbringing and studies in different parts of the world have made him popular with many great orchestras and he brings his unique personality and energy to every piece.’

‘Well the piano is in place now, there is growing excitement and anticipation in the audience as we wait for Torvig Absalom to step onto the stage. The leader of the orchestra has taken up his position and played that all important note to lead the orchestra in tuning up. All the players will need to be on their toes for this marathon piano concerto that lasts one hour and twenty minutes. Now we wait for the conductor to lead tonight’s soloist onto the stage. The string section are turning their heads obviously expecting tonight’s young conductor, Melody Fairweather, to lead her guest soloist on at any moment. Excitement is building as we all wait for the grand entrance. Daisy Fairweather is making her first appearance at the Proms and this will be a thrilling moment in her career no doubt. We can imagine the excitement back stage as they prepare for their entrance. At rehearsals this afternoon you could see and hear the very special connection she has made with this world famous pianist. If tonight’s performance repeats the wonderfully energetic rehearsal, we are all in for a treat. As we wait for them to appear, Ariadne can you tell us what it’s like in those last moments as you wait for the go ahead to walk on stage and be greeted by the best audience in the world?’

‘Nervous and excited, however many times you have played in a prom. But Torvig is a such a natural performer he knows how to build the excitement, keeping the audience waiting just that little bit longer.’

Backstage at the Royal Albert Hall there was a very different kind of excitement and tension. Daisy Fairweather was getting very nervous with the delay, she just wanted to get on stage and raise her baton. The bossy woman who seemed to be in charge of the crew was also getting edgy.

‘Alison, are you sure you gave Mr Absalom his final call? Is the intercom working, did you knock on his dressing room door?’

‘Yes but he didn’t answer, maybe he got lost.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous and where’s Jerry, it’s his job to escort him so he doesn’t get lost, ah you’re here Jerry, where is Mr. Absalom?’

‘We seem to have lost him, he didn’t answer when I knocked so he must have slipped out.’

‘Alison go and check all the corridors and you too Ben. Jerry go and knock loudly and if he doesn’t answer open the door.’

‘The door was locked.’

‘I think we need to call security, we can’t keep the audience waiting or the BBC, this is a live television broadcast. Ben get hold of security, Jerry get yourself back to his dressing room and… and…’

‘And this is Julian Mountjoy live at the proms for this very special concert. There seems to be a delay bringing on tonight’s highly esteemed soloist… George, as an orchestra leader tell us what it is like as you wait for your conductor and soloist to step forward to the front of the stage…’

‘Jerry, there you are, what the hell is going on?’

‘I’m afraid it’s bad news.’

‘How bad?’

‘The worst, he’s… he’s dead.’

‘What do you mean, who’s dead?’

‘Mr Absalom, dead in his dressing room.’

Saturday Short Story 500 – Playing Jenga

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‘It’s on local radio now, as well as all the social media.’

Councillor Brian Blogs was beginning to wonder why he had been so keen to get elected, let alone becoming the leader of the council. His colleague Jaylene turned the radio up.

Locals are up in arms over the gigantic new art installation down on the sea front, apparently installed without any consultation. These were some of the comments.

I thought the council were broke.

Call it art, monstrosity.

Completely spoils my sea view.

Brian turned the radio off and proceeded with plan B. Go and see it for himself. Would the public believe the council had nothing to do with it? The two black monoliths were not there yesterday and this morning they were, set firmly in the ground …

‘Jaylene, call the police and um, do we have an engineering department? Could this thing be dangerous, topple over?’

Brian had to admit he was impressed. The monoliths stood close, an eerie silence emanating from them, amid the hub bub all around. Black with a strange glitter, interesting textures … his thoughts were interrupted when a microphone was shoved in his face.

‘Councillor Blogs, who came up with the idea for this very unusual structure?’

‘Absolutely no idea, this has nothing to do with the council, it has been illegally erected.  Our engineers will be examining how it can be removed safely and police will be investigating who put it there.’

‘Is it true that no one saw it arrive?’

‘CCTV footage shows nothing there one moment and the next moment it was there, as if it had appeared from outer space. I suggest our next move will be to get the UFO experts in.’

Brian was rather pleased with the result of his radio interview. All the UFO experts and other nutters had come out of the woodwork and taken interest away from the council. He was beginning to think they had the only logical explanations.

‘Time to put away your toys children, count the Jenga blocks to make sure none are missing.’

‘Daddy, two are missing, I bet it’s Yogo’s fault.’

‘Yogo, have you been throwing toys down the chute again? If those blocks have fallen out that will be another planet we can’t secretly visit.’

‘Daddy, you promised we could land, we’ve never been to a planet with water.’

‘If the inhabitants are clever they might already be tracking us, we can’t take the risk. Let’s see what data Mummy has found out.’

‘Mummy, Mummy are there any people on this one?’

‘Yes darling, just like us, except, except… they are very small, that explains how they fit so many on their little planet.’

‘How small, I promise to be careful.’

‘As small as your Lego figures. We would frighten them and that goes against the second convention.’

‘But I want my Jenga blocks back.’

‘Daddy, can we have some as pets.’

‘No, certainly not, that goes against the third convention. We do have an obligation not to leave litter so we will use electromagnetic extraction and hope no tiny humans are in the way.’

Tuesday Tale – Summer Getaway

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Florella was bored, very bored. Shopping was not the way to spend a sunny summer day. She was nine, too old to be stuck with her mother in the freezer aisle. Her mother was not even shopping, just gossiping with her friend. They could never go round the supermarket without meeting someone they knew, but suddenly an escape idea presented itself. Her mother would not even notice if she walked out of the shop.

Outside the sun was warm on her face and Florella’s arms began to thaw out after the cold of the freezer aisle. Her feet took on a direction of their own and propelled her down the road, down the lane and towards the park by the river. But as she approached, Florella thought she must have gone the wrong way. This was not the park. Caravans were parked beneath shady trees, there were patches of wonderful bright green grass where the sun reached. It was magical, where was she? The strange place, the adventure of really running away, made her brave enough to explore.

The grass was still wet after yesterday’s rain, but she did not care if she got her feet wet. Florella sauntered amongst the caravans. All the doors were closed except one. She wasn’t quite brave enough to look inside, but didn’t need to as a girl suddenly popped out.

‘Hello, what are you doing here girl, you don’t belong to the circus.’

‘Circus, what circus?’

‘You can’t have missed our big top!’

‘I was looking for the park and I found myself here.’

The girl put her finger to her lip and beckoned Florella to follow.  Sure enough, beyond the trees and caravans was an enormous tent. The girl led Florella to a small flap.

‘We’re not allowed in, they’re practising, one tiny peep.’

Florella looked at the jumble of people inside doing acrobatics, rolling over barrels and swinging on ropes. She was entranced, but felt a tight grip on her arm and found herself being dragged away. Her disappointment was brief as she found herself propelled into the girl’s caravan.

‘What’s your name girl and what were you up to sneaking round?’

‘Ella and I’ve run away.’

‘Oh so have me and my Dad, maybe you could join the circus, we’re leaving in three days, on the road again. Will you be my friend, I never have a chance to make friends as we have to keep moving, but it’s a good way to make sure no one finds us.’

‘What is your name and how old are you?’

 ‘I’m Magdalena, nine years old.’

Magdalena’s life sounded far more exciting than Florella’s, even the other girl’s name was exotic.

‘Same age as me. Actually my full name is Florella because I was adopted after they found me in a flower meadow,’

Florella did not usually tell lies, but then she didn’t usually run away to join a circus. The caravan was full of colourful costumes and all sorts of strange objects, hoops, skittles, trumpets…

‘Do you perform in the circus?’

‘Not yet, I have to learn, Dad’s going to teach me.’

Magdalena started showing Florella all the things that were called props and told her about clowns and girls standing three people high in a pyramid. Florella felt in a dream until voices shouting broke the spell.

‘Ella, Ella are you here, Florella are you here, your mother’s looking for you.’

Florella felt sick, who was looking for her, how had they found her? She stood up in panic, but Magdalena pushed her back down on a pile of costumes and pulled the door shut.

 ‘Shsh…they must not find us.’

No sooner had she spoken than the door was wrenched open and a man burst in. He had the angriest expression she had ever seen on a grown up’s face as he turned from Florella to Magdalena.

‘What the hell is going on Mags?’

‘Dad, it’s okay, she’s my friend.’

‘What have I told you about strangers, now she’s got the police onto us.’

Florella was really scared now, she hadn’t called the police and why was he so worried. The last she saw of her new friend was her being hauled out of the caravan by a pair of big tattooed arms. Trembling she peered out the door, but Magdalena and her father seemed to have vanished into thin air.

The voices were getting louder, men’s and women’s voices.

‘Florella Fenton are you okay, Ella call out if you’re here. No one’s cross with you. Over here Sarge, caravan.’

Ella tried to shut herself behind the caravan door, but a large hand grabbed it.

‘It’s okay, what’s your name?’  

Florella thought she probably should not lie to a policeman, nor did she want to get her new friend in trouble, she must think quickly.

‘Oh that’s a nice dog.’

‘He’s a clever dog, he found you quickly.’

‘I was not lost, I just came to have a look at the circus.’

‘That’s okay then, but you must tell me your name.’

‘Ella… Florella Fenton.’

‘Good girl, now did you meet anyone from the circus?’

‘No, NO..  I’m sorry I looked in someone’s caravan, will they be cross?’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll explain. Your mother will be here in a moment.’

Florella dared to look up and saw a group of annoyed looking people in strange costumes, they obviously were cross. A woman with bright red lipstick and a strange hairstyle stepped forward.

‘We don’t want trouble, we never seen her before, what’s she saying?’

‘Ella, have you met any of these people?’

Florella felt she had a brief chance before her mother arrived and no doubt she would be cross and spoil everything.

‘No, I’m sorry I trespassed, but can I join your circus?’

‘Do you think you might be a bit young to leave home, it’s not an easy life and you would have to help put up the tent.’

 Ella got the impression the other circus people were laughing at her and so were the police officers now gathered. Red lipstick woman came closer and stood in front of the policeman.

‘Free tickets for the girl and her family and your officers and you leave us in peace; every year we come and never had trouble.’

Florella thought it might be a good idea to see a circus in action before joining it and as she saw her mother approaching and tried to interpret the expression on her mother’s face, she hoped the free tickets would placate her.

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Big Wheel

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‘Have you found a job yet Joel? You’re not going to lounge around this house till university starts.’

‘Nothing wrong with winding down and actually I am going for a job interview this afternoon down at the sea front.’

‘Good… lifesaver, beach warden or are you going to serve at that new Sandbourne Seafront Diner?’

‘Nope, going on the big wheel.’

‘But you hate heights!’

‘I don’t have to go on it, just sit in the box taking the money.’

‘Was that the best job you could find?’

‘Yup.’

Joel was successful at the job interview, especially as no one else had applied and he was enjoying his first day. He soon discovered he had a good way with the customers, or passengers as they were supposed to call them. Kev was impressed with the steady flow of people lining up to be inserted safely by him into the Flying Pods. Joel had a reassuring manner.

You tell your Gran there’s nothing to be scared of, all the grannies go up and love the view out to sea.

No, your Dad was kidding when he said you have to climb up that high ladder to get on. You just have to wait for an empty  pod to come round to the platform.

Of course it is safe, did you ever hear of a big wheel toppling over?

I assure you it never gets stuck, it’s never come to a halt all the time I’ve been working here.

The morning went quickly, but then Joel noticed his orderly queue had come to a halt and a small crowd was gathering and looking up. At that moment Kev came rushing to Joel’s box.

‘Don’t sell any more tickets just now, bit of a hold up.’

‘All the pods full?’

‘Yes unfortunately, the wheel’s stuck.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Stuck as in won’t go round.’

Joel thought of the nervous aunties and scared little kids he had urged on board, knowing he would never go in a pod himself.

‘So what happens next?’

‘Axel sorts it out.’

‘Where is he then?’

‘Away on a safety course in Wales.’

‘Do you know what to do?’

‘No, I only do the buttons on the ground, I’m not allowed up the ladder as I get vertigo.’

Joel thought of his science A levels and the mechanical engineering course awaiting him at Cambridge University, somehow that did not seem as if it would help this situation.

‘So we call the fire brigade then.’

‘NO… boss would kill us, we don’t want to lose our licence.’

‘Where is the boss?’

‘Goodness knows, I think he was on a bender last night. Anyway, I think I remember what Axel does, he takes a heavy spanner to the top of the wheel, it’s always at the top that a pod gets jammed. Axel is very set on safety, so you must clip the safety harness on to each rung as you go up.’

‘I can’t go up!’

 ‘Well there’s no one else.’

‘I thought Joel would have been home by now… what did you say John… local news… hang on I’m coming… Oh goodness, Coastguard helicopter hovering over the wheel and all those fire engines and it looks like someone’s stuck on the outside. Good thing our Joel only works in the ticket box. He’ll be sorry to have missed all that excitement if he was already on his way home.’

Tuesday Tiny Tale – When The Sun Goes Down

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Sundown seemed to come early, but it turned out I was actually dead, which came as a bit of a surprise. It was a pretty sky, but not as dramatic as one might expect for one’s last sunset.

The sky faded away imperceptibly and I was left standing, standing where? A station concourse with many other figures standing around looking confused. Nobody spoke and we all avoided looking at each other, so we were left staring at the multitude of signs, like the London Underground only more confusing. Which direction to choose? I naturally edged towards those in English, or rather those that included English amongst other languages.

CHRISTIAN

So we/they were right all along? No hang on Muslim, Hindu, Atheists… they were in for a surprise… Jews, Agnostics, Jainism…

I decided Christian might be the logical choice, but as I stepped forward three more signs came up… Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant… surely earthly divisions didn’t continue in the higher realms? I decided it would have to be Protestant and when Church of England and nonconformist signs lit up, C of E seemed the sensible choice, though I should really have gone with agnostic.

A guide floated into view and called Christine Brown. I nodded, I couldn’t seem to find my voice.

‘Year of birth? We have several Christine Browns.’

That was hopeful, perhaps there had been a mistake and I was not dead yet, after all I was in good health.

‘1963‘

‘No, you’re not on the list.’

‘Phew, I knew there must have been a mistake, you mean I’m not dead?’

‘No you are dead, just not allocated here.’

‘But I was Christened, named after the Good Lord himself and I’m English, it’s our established faith, you have to let me in.’

‘That’s as maybe, but it’s not a faith you adhere to.’

‘But I went to Sunday School, I was in Pathfinders and I’m always at the church, well I meet my friends in the Refectory Tearooms.’

‘But you don’t actually enter the church.’

‘I was at the free lunchtime organ concert only last week.’

‘The last time you attended a service of worship was at your cousin’s wedding thirty years ago.’

‘And that was the last time she set foot in a church!’

I laughed at my own joke, but the higher being did not have a sense of humour.

‘Even then your mind was not on God, during the prayers you were more interested in what everyone was wearing.’

I suddenly felt chilled to my core, this wasn’t a dream, this was real, how did this being know so much about me? Perhaps I should have been more humble.

‘Please forgive me, I did not mean to be rude, it’s just a shock, being dead. Could you please tell me where I should go.’

‘I cannot tell you, that is for you to decide, you have had sixty one years to think about your soul. Everyone here sees only what they understand.’

‘But I don’t und…’

I was alone, he had faded away and as I spun round in confusion I saw more signs. GAIA, thank goodness, that was where I belonged.

‘Welcome,’ said a gentle voice ‘have you got your visa?’

‘I am pretty sure I belong here, I am environmentally friendly, I watch David Attenborough, I’ve rewilded my garden and built an insect hotel and a hedgehog door. I do feel closer to God in the garden.’

‘What about the bees and flies that die every day shut in your hot conservatory?’

‘I try to catch them, I can’t stop them coming in… and I never kill spiders or even ants… I’m not sure what more I could have done.’

I felt a wave of warmth.

‘Don’t worry my dear, you have just done the best thing ever for wild life on earth.’

‘Oh, thank goodness, what did I do?’

 ‘You died.’

‘Little me gone can’t make much difference…’

‘No, but we have just cleared sector 5321 of all humans so those creatures you profess to cherish will thrive.’

Tuesday Tiny Tale 333 – Modern Family

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 14 Comments

‘What happened next Mummy?’

Rory never tired of asking the same questions to delay bed time.

‘The adoption society said to us

 Well Mr and Mrs Asimov, you will be pleased to hear you have been selected for the special programme. You should be welcoming a new family member very shortly. We have several potential sons who will thrive in your family. The next step is to visit Future Family Foundation on our open day next week.‘

‘Were you excited Mummy, was Daddy excited?’

‘We certainly were, but nervous as we did not know what the place would be like. But as soon as we walked in the door you came rolling up to us and said ‘Hello Mummy and Daddy’ and our hearts melted.’

‘But hearts can’t melt, if they did you wouldn’t work anymore.’

‘That’s just a saying Darling. We did not bother to meet the others, we just asked if we could have you.’

‘Did you take me home then?’

‘No, we had to have some sessions with your foster parents, getting to know you, do you remember that?’

’No, I just remember being in this house.’

‘Now it really is bed time, it’s getting late.’

‘Are you glad you got me.’

‘Of course, you made our family complete.’

‘Do you love me more than Chloe and Eliza?’

‘We love you all the same. Now, it’s time to say goodnight.’

‘Are you and Daddy going to die one day?’

‘Yes, but not for a long long time.’

‘Are Chloe and Eliza going to die one day?’

‘Yes, but not for an even longer time.’

‘Am I going to die one day?’

‘No Darling, you’re special.’

‘But who will look after me if you die?’

‘Chloe and Eliza and one day their husbands and their children, but you don’t need to think about that for years and years, now its time you were plugged in.’

‘Mummyyy… Chloe said she and Eliza are going to switch me off when you are dead.’

Silly Sunday – Spamalot

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 32 Comments

When I was a child, spam was a food product that I did not like, a moulded block of pink meat extricated from a tin with a key and a good chance of lacerating fingers. Our relationship with digital SPAM is probably very similar.

A folder was, for many centuries, a sturdy cardboard stationery item for keeping collecting endless sheets of paper and it still is Chez Tidalscribe.

Put together meat and cardboard and you have a Spam Folder. In my first forays into life on line I wondered what it was and why people were told to check them. It was a long time before I even knew we had spam folders on WordPress. Reading spam comments usually explains why WordPress has blocked them from arriving at our precious blogs, though sometimes the intelligent and welcome comments of real bloggers wash up there.

Who are the strange beings that send these weird comments and why. AI creations that have escaped? But what if they are real human beings reaching out to engage with us? Should we respond? What would we say. Here are some I replied to…

‘Going shopping with my girlfriend, I feel very bored. I usually read this blog so I don’t get bored.’

 A lot of people will sympathise with your shopping experience, I’m so glad my blog prevented boredom instead of causing it.

‘when me adn may friend go to bali me look so many things there are cute and i not forget to read your good blog everyday thankyo’

Thanks indeed, I expect all my followers to read my blogs every day, however fantastic their holiday.

‘I have a boyfriend who likes reading blogs, I see he often reads this blog, but he is no longer there, I was curious about what was on this blog, it turns out there is a lot of knowledge that I can get.’

 Yes my blog is so good it can even make boyfriends disappear.

‘When I came home from watching the concert I couldn’t sleep, I read an article on this website, I fell asleep and woke up with meaningful inspiration thanks to reading this blog.’

Yes reading my website makes most readers fall asleep.

‘2 days ago I decided to go to Vietnam, I got drunk and met a girl from there, when we were both in the room, I suddenly got bored, I read this blog, I got a lot of inspiration‘

 I hope you were inspired to avoid alcohol on holiday.

Yesterday I went to China, waiting for my plane to depart, I took the time to read this blog, this will be very useful for many people who read it.

 My blog is especially useful for passengers who have long delays at airports.

My friends and I always visit museums with various classy monuments which are very beautiful. I see them all on your very good blog.

Thanks, I have endeavoured to fill my blogs with monuments from all round the world.

Every day I always have breakfast before going to school, but when I eat I feel like something is missing, that’s when I visit this blog to accompany me while eating so that I feel comfortable.

I am impressed that you start your school day in the perfect way.

What are your favourite comments in your spam folder?