Author: Alexander Fawn

He couldn’t help wandering what was going on.

He sat, yet again, thinking about it all. He had the strangest feeling that something wasn’t right. Although that didn’t make any sense. Every time he comes back to the surgery, he is told they couldn’t find anything wrong with him. Everything indicates that he is perfectly fit and healthy. Despite this, they keep having him come back to do more tests. He knows he is getting tired of the whole thing. Every time he comes here, the results are the same. They say they can’t find anything, then send him home again. He knows he only has to wait a few, long, stretched-out days, and sure enough he’d get another call. A call, just like all the others. He really was sick of it! He leant forward, so that he could see the clock. He’d been avoiding this. He felt it would make him feel worse if he knew how long he’d been sitting here. He did a quick mental calculation. He sighed, shaking his head. It was unbelievable! It had been almost three hours!

He would have to say something.

Finally, the doctor came back into the room. He sat down slowly, staring at his patient. “I’m sorry about the wait. I’ve just logged out of a symposium; an international conference, if you like, with several medical specialists worldwide. In recent weeks there have been several of these.”

He shuffled a few papers around on his desk. He went on, “As a result, I have just had extra tests verified.” He laced his fingers and rested his chin on them. “You need to understand that your condition is in no way normal, in fact, it appears to be absolutely unique.”

He paused for a moment, as if he was reluctant to go on.

“At first, I thought you only appeared to be dead, but now, I’m sure of it. Yes, you are, without any remaining shadow of doubt, dead.”

As a patient, he seemed to go into a complete daze. Nevertheless, he managed to blurt out the ridiculous question, “Can you fix it?”

With a hopeless expression, the doctor said, “Well now, there’s the rub, d’you see? None of us have ever been trained in the business of treating the dead… you do see my dilemma, I hope?”

“Yes, I suppose I can.”

“That’s good. I suppose I could treat your case as a mental one, rather than as a physical condition. After all, physically there’s nothing wrong with you; nothing that I can find, anyway. What do you think?”

“Yes, if that’s what you recommend.”

With that, his doctor prepares a referral and hands it to him.

As he left the surgery, he was still feeling gobsmacked from learning the full nature of his condition. He was left with the knowledge that neither he, nor his doctor, nor any of the international medical specialists knew what to do about it.

On his way to where he may have left his car, he couldn’t help wondering… who is it that writes this stuff!

She sits in the corner of the room, staring at the phone.

She wants it to ring. She wants it to ring for her, her mistress, her provider. She who rescued her from that noisy place, with all those others. She who brought her here and gave her a home. She who feeds her and gives her love. She who represents her entire world. She who looks at the telephone every time she walks past the place where it sits, silent. She who waits for him to call. She knows how happy it will make her when he does. He hasn’t been here for such a long time. They both have to wait for him to return.

For now, she waits with her mistress. She purrs extra loud when she’s on her lap to make her feel better, but… she feels a bit; she doesn’t know what… She is sure humans have a word for it.

There is only so much that a cat can do.

He was around her age and was always getting top marks for writing stories.

He was nice-looking and always polite. They were in the same class and would sometimes talk. She obviously looked up to him. It was probably more than mere admiration. Anyway, things took a major turn, quite out of the blue, when they somehow found themselves chatting about their favourite school subject and he said he would help her with her story writing. She couldn’t believe it; she was thrilled! It was obvious that they both had a love of writing in common, maybe it went beyond that! It was during a lunch period in the school canteen when he made the offer. The thought that he was willing to give up his time to give her some pointers was amazing.

It was agreed that she finish the story she was working on and then let him see it. They also decided that the canteen would be quiet near the end of lunch break, and it would be ideal if they sat at the corner table away from the door. He said they could sit there and he would read it when it was finished.

It was only a couple of days later, before first class, that she let him know she had finished her story and had brought it in to show him.

At lunchtime, when the place was almost empty, they met at the table and she handed him a copy of her story. She couldn’t help noticing the serious expression that came over him, as he took it from her.

At first, she was amazed at how long it took him to read it. She was even more surprised with what happened next. He was pouting his lips and slowly shaking his head when he looked up.

His first comment was that her plot was weak!

She was shocked to think that he should think that. She had barely got over this when he went on to say that the whole thing was overly wordy. He had also noticed an issue with her switching tenses. As well as this, he felt that she had not done enough research on her subject. He said that generally, her characterisation was poor. He felt that they were oversimplified. He considered that they came across as flat and much too generic, and the dialogue was poor and certainly needed work. He also noted that she had used a lot of clichés. He pointed out that these should be avoided. Generally speaking, he thought there was certainly too much completely unnecessary descriptions and details in her work.

He paused momentarily, for his critique to sink in.

Knowing full well that this first get-together would be their last, she smiled, thanked him, and quietly returned to class.

Yes, that’s what he wants; world dominance!

Above all else, he yearns to be the supreme leader. He needs to be the ruler of everything, the world and all its peoples. In fact, the unchallenged head of everything. The goal has always been there. From his verry earliest memories, as a young child. Throughout his school years, the burning desire was continually driving him. He wasn’t sure how it would be managed, but it was ordained, it was his destiny. He knew, without any doubt, that it would come to pass. He need not worry. It would come about as surely as the sun rises with each new day!

All he has to do is wait…

He had only just sat down, when he was asked the really cunning question.

He’d had been given a lot of sound advice on the subject, if this should be asked. Fortunately for him, it had been thoroughly explained how he should take care how he replied to such a question. Under no circumstances should he say that the money is needed to pay the rent and feed himself, or because he is impressed with the interviewer’s professional manner, or how friends have told you what a good company it is, or that he feels he would make a valuable contribution as a member of staff. No, none of these would definitely clinch the job for him.

The interviewer had kept a straight face when he had asked, “Why do you want to work here?”

He was ready for this: the byword here, was honesty.

He said, “This building happens to be really handy because it is directly opposite to my favourite coffee house, where I have a loyalty card that gives me a free coffee whenever it gets its tenth stamp.”

His application failed.

Mist floating through dawning hours.

Sun and birds come out together.

–

Soft wingbeats from Cabbage Whites.

Bee-buzz sounding from open petals.

New colours form in sunlit hedgerows,

Cobwebs hide between the leaves.

–

Insects take their chosen paths,

Tiny gatherings to and fro.

–

Gusting breezes rattle branches,

Unhinged leaves fall wherever.

–

Berries shine and grow.

Ripening fruit becoming luscious.

–

Subtle movements,

In a noisy world.

And this came to pass…

The old man with the long white beard, sitting quietly on the top of a high mountain, could be heard mumbling to himself, “There are but a few things in this world that are truly endless.”

A passing stranger, a strange thing in itself, stopped to ask, “Do tell, what are these things?”

The old man replied, “I couldn’t possibly tell you.”

It was a special dress up night at the club and he would go garbed as a cowboy.

He was pleased with his outfit. He felt that it really suited him. The nightclub’s rules dictated that, as well as fancy dress, those attending should all wear masks. Naturally this created a great deal of excitement among the patrons. Soon after the doors were opened, the place was packed completely full. Loud music began to rock the dimly-lit hall, with coloured lights flashing overhead from a large mirror ball. Dancers were dressed in all manner of costumes. There were soldiers, angels, astronauts, pop stars, fairies, policemen, and many of them wore animal costumes. It had all been going for an hour or so, when the cowboy was taken by surprise.

All of a sudden, a black, cloaked and hooded figure was in front of him. “Great costume!” he shouted, over the revelry. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Sure,” came the reply, and cowboy, began to jostle his way through the crowded dancers towards the bar. When he finally reached it, the other was already there, with the drinks ready.

Smiling, he quickly downed his beer. Unable to see the other’s face properly because of the shadow cast by the large hood, he said, “So, you’re meant to be the Grim Reaper, then?”

“No,” came the reply, looking around, “I suppose it’s understandable that you might think that. No, I’m the real thing, and the poison in your beer should give you about three minutes, if you’re lucky.”

Cowboy frowned.

At that point, the figure drew the scythe out from beneath his cloak and rested it by the handle, over his shoulder.

Then, in a swirl of blue smoke, disappeared.

This writer may sometimes give way to a particularly strange notion… because he can.

Imagine, if you will, that such a notion can be illustrated by listening in to a conversation. OK. It all begins with a simple discussion between two people. Whether they are people or simply beings, needs to be considered. Who, what, why, and how they were, is of no consequence. Unfortunately, if the reader cannot get past this, it is best to stop right there… but, to continue; with their gender, age, creed, nationality and personality, all set aside… an amazingly hard thing to do, but with this done, the following may well make sense. With all these conditions in place, moving forward can happen.

Imagine further, if you can, that in this little understood corner of the universe, on a planet, in a country, in a state, with what is nothing more than, in the entire scheme of things, an issue. It is only taken, here, as an example. It may well be that it is current, and therefor important. However, this too must be set aside. This too, is only used to provide an example that is generic in itself. The notion of this is both complex and simple, at the same time.

It is a simple conversation.

“There are simply not enough houses. How is it that nobody saw this coming?”

“Are we talking about ongoing governments failing to see the housing crisis coming?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’d have to understand that it was allowed to happen.”

“Allowed?”

“Most definitely, allowed. It’s hard for the regular Joe Blow to accept, but it really is a case of the people in government simply not doing their job. Not looking ahead and planning for the future.”

“If that’s true, I ask myself, how could they let this happen?”

“The answer to that is also both complex and simple, at the same time. Complex, as a result of the multitude of factors involved, and simple, because it may only be self-evident. This caveat of ‘may only be’, can safely remain solely in the mind of the writer. In fact, whether it is fact or fiction is a question that can quite happily hang, forever.”

“Also?”

“Yes, it is really, so terribly obvious. This notion, for that is all it is, can be applied to everything from deciding what would be the best place to build a damn, to how to prevent a war; especially, how to prevent a war. As always, there are these examples, and everything in-between.”

“Why do any of these things happen?”

“It all comes down to those who govern, and the perfectly natural, but complex issues they have with the lure of power, money, and celebrityhood.”

“And you think these things get in the way?”

“I do.”

“So, it’s all about not thinking ahead.”

“That’s the simple version, yes, but you’re spot on!”

The patient sat in a chair, while the attending nurse kept a close eye on him.

They were in a room situated in a private wing of the hospital. The Neurologist in charge of the experiment had been working on the brain enhancement substance for a number of years. It wasn’t until he was convinced that the chemical had been perfected, that he felt it was ready to be trialled on one of his patient’s. After giving the injection himself, he left the patient with the nurse, while he responded to an emergency call in another part of the hospital. The timing wasn’t good from his point of view; he would have liked to sit with the patient to observe any side effects. He returned an hour later, having attended to his other duties, keen to check on the subject.

Entering the room, he asked, “How’s he doing?”

The nurse said, “Fine, I think.” She looked down at her notes. “Earlier, only a couple of minutes after you were called away, he said he could feel his brain lighting up.”

The doctor grinned with satisfaction, saying, “Interesting; and now?”

“Now, he’s just sitting quietly. He hasn’t spoken since. I get the feeling he’s waiting for some sort of input. What is it that you want him to think about?”

For a moment, the Neurologist seemed to be lost for words. “Well, yes,” he began, “erm, something, anything and everything, just about all things considered, I suppose.”

The nurse nodded.

A moment later they both looked on as the patient moved one of his feet slightly. This was followed by the corner of the patient’s mouth twitching. All, the man in the chair thought, all things considered.

It twitched again. Wow! he thought, that’s a big ask. This could take quite some time. No matter, let me see, I’ll get started now…