Archive for July, 2011

At first, she thought it was cute, being serenaded as they walked to the restaurant or art gallery. “Girl with the big blue eyes, we’re going to see an exhibition about the French Renaissance painter Monet.” I didn’t really bother her that he couldn’t rhyme for shit. It did a little. But he was handsome, [...]

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It’s always the shoes. Other men in my line of business say it’s the photographs or the stacks of letters and postcards. One chap I spoke to said it was the telephone, it always rang as he went about his work. I’ve never met anyone else who had this happen, certainly it’s never happened to [...]

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The men weren’t at all prepared for the bird strike. They hadn’t seen the signs, though enough warnings and ultimatums had been issued across the city in the preceding months. It was a Wednesday morning when all the women got up and instantaneously thought: That’s it, I’ve had enough. There were mothers of boys, wives [...]

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All I want to say is that no-one listened to my side of the story. See, when I was seven I accidentally set the house on fire playing with matches behind the couch. Really, though, isn’t that more my mum’s fault? What kid isn’t intrigued by the quick, flashing spurt of a lighting match? That [...]

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She said it to herself often enough, more than once most days. It usually occurred to her later that she may have been hasty, stupid even. Walking home from the shops, Emily slid her bag from her shoulder and ferreted about in it for the pear she’d just bought. She bit into it and slurped [...]

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“It’s the most perfect shade of blue, isn’t it?” Maureen didn’t think so but she knew better than to offer an opinion. When Edmund started in on one of his observations nothing could interrupt or contradict him. Mountains would move before Edmund Jenkins admitted he was wrong. “This must be the most celebrated view in [...]

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It began with a mystery and ended with a murder. The murder, based in Grasmere, took place in a whodunnit whose form was a rather alternative interpretation of the life and times of a William Wordsworth whose promising writing career is cut short by his murder at the hands of a more able, though less [...]

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So this is it. I thought it would take us longer, but we walked with purpose. And as we walked, we talked about important things. The memories we didn’t want to leave behind. All we could do was hold on to them tightly since the end is in sight, and we don’t know what will [...]

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