Author: Alexander Fawn

He was driving his mother-in-law back to his house, when he made the detour.

He pulled up in front of a large building. He suggested she wait in the car because he’d only be a minute. While she was waiting she wondered whether she’d done the right thing by leaving the home. After a couple of minutes he returned with a large envelope, thanking her for her patience, saying it was just something he had to pick up. They continued on with their journey. At home, she was warmly greeted by her two grandchildren, who were thrilled with the idea that Grandma was going to move in with them. She got settled in her room and they all shared an evening meal. When the children were safely tucked up in bed, he produced the envelope and they all sat down.

His wife didn’t much like what she knew he was about to discuss. She thought it was rather insensitive, but she said she would stay out of it and keep quiet. He handed the old lady the envelope saying there was no rush, but he’d like her to give it some thought. Adding that he’d always felt that forward planning was very important.

Opening the envelope, she found a glossy brochure that showed a range of coffins…

He was the kind of guy that never seemed to be troubled by anything.

He just breezed through life. He never had any worries that amounted to anything. Money had never been a problem, it just came and went. Despite the doomsayers, he never had any concerns about what the future might hold. He was comfortable in his line of work and enjoyed it from day to day; for him, job security had never been an issue. His relationships with others were good and he was always comfortable about making new friends and being good to the ones he had. He was in good health and regularly attended a gymnasium. It had never occurred to him that he should worry about aging and the idea of his eventual death had never been a cause for concern. In all, he was a perfectly contented member of society.

Sadly, this all changed for him the day the man was elected president!

He knew he would have to re-evaluate.

The two men sat at a small table in the café.

They were both in their mid-thirties, both married, both had children, both worked locally and both had been best friends since their early school days. One joined the army straight out of school. One took an apprenticeship with a local engineering firm. They were of a similar build, except one wore a beard while the other was clean shaven. The beardless man was talking about his time in prison. The bearded man had heard his story before, but was always willing to listen. Although they met like this from time to time, their families didn’t socialize. Apart from their long-time friendship, they would talk about those things in their past that neither of them felt comfortable sharing with others.

Beardless had spent time in jail. He had been convicted of man-slaughter. He received a six-year sentence for his actions that lead to a man’s death. It had happened during a fight outside of a night club in a nearby city. What began as an argument inside had continued in the street after they were evicted from the premises. The dead man had hit the ground hard when he went down and died in the ambulance before reaching the hospital. Beardless had been married for two years at the time with his wife expecting their first child.

Bearded had been posted overseas and has vivid recollections of the killing that went on during his time there. Despite counselling, he has struggled to come to terms with what he had done. No amount of treatment has ridded him of the guilt and anguish felt about taking other people’s lives, even when they take place in a kill-or-be-killed scenario. His return home to his wife and child was a very difficult time for him. His nightmares started immediately and have been the cause of night-time chaos and disruption at home.

Beardless, who had taken a life illegally, had managed to move on with his life, thanks to the support of friends and family.

Bearded, who had taken a life legally, was struggling with his life and finding it hard to move on, despite the well intentioned support of friends and family.

They met from time to time to talk about those things in their past that neither of them felt comfortable sharing with others.

They had a common bond.

They were both killers.

It was the cat-lady’s morning routine.

Every morning she went to the back of the house and opened the door. Her five cats were always waiting for her, meowing and squeaking. She love feeding time. They were always so affectionate. She had bowls already lined up and filled with each one’s preferred food. She would put the bowls down, one by one, each time calling the pet by its given name. The old lady prided herself with her careful choice of these. They were individually named after people and friends that she’d known over the years. There were three queens and two toms. Of course, the ladies were served first.

Blossom was the first. She was a small, shorthaired tabby. She was a quiet cat and very much a sun lover. She was named after her neighbour’s granddaughter. Agnes came next, another tabby. A bit on the tubby side and very affectionate. She was given the name of her good friend and bingo partner. Then came Silvia, the Siamese. A naturally elegant creature, perhaps not so loving, rather snooty in fact. This was her favourite school teacher’s name, who was rather snobby, but a great English teacher.

Then came the boys. Finley was first. He was a grey Burmese. He was gentle and very young, not much more than a kitten. He was named after her daughter’s baby son.

Last to be called was Jack. Jack the Ripper. A large, brutish, animal. She sighed. He didn’t remind her of anyone.

He just killed birds!

It is a recurring cycle of an event, natural for them, with no judgment beyond this.

The sounds and smells of it tell us that it is happening. There is a great mixing of water. Filthy grey sludge slowly oozes from a pipe.

The factory’s waste plops ungraciously into the crystal clear running water of the stream. They know each other when they meet. It is a mingling that times past has made known to each. The narrow liquid band of running water moves quickly along its jagged path beneath the pipe, striking the pocked contours of its banks. It gathers up what falls. There is no contention here; no rebuttal, no disapproval.

The greater body of water maintains its steady flow, mindful of its duties to serve other elements, to be steadfast in its purpose. There is no issue here; no judgment or speculation. Both parties are subject to the rules of Mother Nature. They both abide by these.

Moving steadily towards some distant sea, they embrace one another in a broiling agitation of swirling movement. Crystal returns to clear soon after, with brown no longer seen. They are joined in an unseen fusion. The two, with equal resolve, move on with a relentless and persistent flow in the same direction.

The rivulet winds on with the permission and commendation of nature. These two have no issues with the event. There is no judgment or contemplation beyond this…

After the reading of the will, he would wait a while before returning to the house.

He knew that the old man had never revealed the whereabouts of the proceeds from the diamond heist. It was a robbery that had resulted in him spending most of his adult life in prison. It had gone horribly wrong and people had got hurt. The diamonds were never recovered and no mention of them was made in the will. He was sure they had to be in the house. The man had always like games, hiding things in secret drawers and false bottoms of ornaments, so he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He also knew that the house was due to be demolished and the land cleared. The tiny but precious stones would be lost forever. Being the home contents evaluator for the insurance company, he would have the place to himself for hours to carry out his search. If it came to that, he could spend the entire day in there.

It turned out that he did just that. From an early morning start, he had not discovered the false drawer in the desk until mid-afternoon. It contained a written note giving a safe’s combination, and this was followed by another hour before he found the safe cleverly concealed behind a mirror in the bathroom. It turned out to be virtually empty. It only contained another slip of paper that read: ‘A tongue-tied one. (4 letters)’.

He was stumped. He was very much a numbers man, not a words person. He had never been any good at cryptic puzzles, with their clever clues designed to misdirect you. He thinks about times in the past, when he had looked up the answer only to realize that he couldn’t figure out why it was the answer in the first place. He sat down with it for a further hour.

He had hit a brick wall, and there was no way he could ask anyone.

He left the house late that day, never knowing about the hollow heal…

She could go back to work now.

She could wear a mask behind the counter and tell customers about the department store’s range of cosmetics. She could do that. She could go in and pay close attention to the social distancing rules; she could. She could also scream out loud that she’s sick of all this… all this trouble! This evil pandemic being visited upon all the citizens of the world. What did we all do to deserve this? Do other people find it so difficult to wear a mask? Do they feel that it’s suffocating? The news reports tell her that the rules have changed again and she could go in and wear a mask all day. How would she feel if a customer comes to her counter without wearing one! What is she supposed to do about it? Does she say something to them, or does she report it to her manager? Is she just being silly thinking about that? She’ll be so glad when this is all over.

Meanwhile, she could go back to work now.

It had to be the very worst dream she’d ever had.

When she was snapped out of it by the alarm, she just lay there shivering. The entire nightmare was still there, very real. It started with being chased through the jungle by a tiger, this was followed by being caught in a storm, with lightening coming down hitting the ground all around her, then she was in a pit full of snakes all squirming around. Then, she was falling from the top of a high building and suddenly found herself out at sea gulping mouthfuls of water with no land in sight. The whole thing ended with her in a terrible car accident, being stuck in a car that was upside down and on fire. She was trying to get out when she woke up.

With a lot of effort she got out of bed and started her usual work day routine. The images from the night just wouldn’t go away. Being really concerned about it, she booked an early morning session with her personal analyst before heading in to work.

On his couch, she went through the whole thing in as much detail as she could remember, while he sat silently listening. When she had finally finished, he nodded for a while. He then confirmed her next regular appointment.

On her way out, he said, “Try to ease the amount of stress in your life.”

She left feeling so much better.

 

 

 

 

It was a hot, windy day when he decided to tidy up the garden.

He looked out of the back window and felt it was ideal weather for cleaning up the garden. He had been putting it off, but today he would make it happen. After all, he had the time to do it.

It took just eight minutes for him to walk around the back garden, looking to see what would need to be done to tidy the place up.

It took him seven minutes to change into his old gardening clothes and find his gardening gloves in the shed.

Six minutes to get the bucket from the side of the house and pick up sticks and small branches from the lawn and in the flower beds.

Five minutes to get the rake and rake up all of the dead leaves from the lawn and pile them up on a patch of open ground at the back of the garden.

Four minutes to take a last minute look around for anything else that needs to be burnt off. Return to the house, get a box of matches, go back to the pile and light the dead leaves, watch it until he was satisfied that the fire had taken hold.

Three minutes to hear the house phone go, return to the house to answer it, find the shopping list that his wife forgot, read the items out over the phone, then return to the garden.

Two minutes to discover that the flames from the fire were licking at the base of the back wooden fence, run and take the garden hose off the wall, connect it to the tap, drag the nozzle to the back of the garden, and put the fire out.

One minute to keep the hose going on the pile and the fence, until all of the smouldering had completely stopped.

And it took less than a minute for him to realise that it was not ideal weather for cleaning up the garden.

When the alarm clock buzzed, he woke with a terrible headache.

He shut it off quickly and listened. Yes, his flatmate had already left for work. He staggered into the bathroom. His head was pounding. After a wash and shave he fossicked around in the cabinet until he found a bottle of aspirin. He took one and dressed. It didn’t seem to be helping, so he put a couple more in his pocket. He’d take them later if his head didn’t clear. The walk to the bus stop was invigorating, but his headache was no better. He dipped into his pocket and swallowed both tablets. The bus came and he got on. The ride in usually took a few minutes. Hopefully, this would be enough time for the throbbing to stop completely.

The girl sitting in front of him was wearing a cap covered with tiny embroidered butterflies. The first inclination that something was not quite right was when the wings on a couple of them began to flutter. He squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t help. He looked across at the woman holding a poodle on her lap… but it wasn’t a poodle, it was a chicken! A chicken on a bus? He couldn’t wait to get off. When he did, he found that most of the people walking past had horns and nearly all of them were wearing red, clown noses. He leant against a wall looking at the blue rabbits perched on top of every street lamp. He took a deep breath. He really couldn’t go into work like this. With great care, he crossed the road, made his way to the bus stop and waited for a ride home.

When the bus came, he clambered on, and in a moment of clarity, mumbled to the gorilla that was in the driver’s seat, “They weren’t aspirin!”