Author: Alexander Fawn

The truth was, she could never look back and explain what made her do it.
She had been toying with the idea for a long time. It wasn’t until she decided to write it all down in a list that it all started to fall into place. There were a dozen items. She regarded all of them as her constant problems. She wanted none of them. Her mind was made up; she would sell them on an internet site. She did some research and found a suitable e-market site. She looked back at her list and read it again.
• Don’t have any close friends
• Suffer from low self esteem
• Often experience depression
• Unhappy with my job
• Continually short of money
• Poor relations with family
• Repeatedly remembering bullying incidents from school
• Not sleeping properly
• Spending too much on junk food
• Wanting to be alone
• Always distrustful of people
• Allowing myself to become overwhelmed with problems
At first, she had no responders. She checked every day, but the situation dragged on like this for two weeks. Then, just as she was considering removing the post, a young man made contact.
He explained that he had problems of his own, but he was willing to buy hers. He said that he was able to take on her problems as well as his own. He said he was prepared to pay the full price. He also said that he had a very similar list, but had never thought of doing what she had done. He told her how much he admired her for what she was doing.
A few days later they met for a coffee.

The chief inspector didn’t like the sound of it.
It was his case and he didn’t need any help from the top brass, especially the latest idea of bringing in some sort of seer. He wasn’t even sure that he knew what a seer was. When he looked it up on the quiet and found that it meant a person reputed to have special powers of divination and therefore the ability to see, he was incensed. They weren’t even talking about a profiler, but some sort of medium with a crystal ball no doubt. But if this thing came from the top, past experience told him that there was nothing he could do about it. In fact, he had to go carefully if he wanted to avoid trouble.
The police investigation had been going on for nearly a year. To date, five murders had taken place, all within a radius of six city blocks. The victims had all been middle-aged men, and all of them died as a result of being garrotted in their place of work late at night. Being dubbed the office killer by the press, there had been a lot of publicity. The lack of progress being made by the chief inspector and his specially formed task force was obviously the reason for this unusual directive. It would see such a person coming on board to provide assistance on the case. Reluctantly, he agreed to have an office available and made ready for their visitor.
Two days later the seer arrived. She turned out to be a small woman in her late sixties or more. She came dressed in a cloak covered with all manner of mystical signs. She must have turned up early, because well before any of the task force arrived she had set herself up in the empty office. She had blacked out the windows with heavy cloth, making the room quite dark. On the desk she put a large, very ornate crystal ball, with one or two candles burning beside it.

As people arrived she met them and introduced herself. They were all taken aback by her witch-like appearance. The CI was beside himself with rage and embarrassment but somehow managed to hide it. When all eight members of the task force had arrived she explained that she had found the empty office down the hall and had already moved in. She said she was now ready to assist, and in fact had already started on the case. She announced that she had already made some progress. She said she would share that with them, but first she wanted to invite them all to see her room before she told them what she had found out.
Obediently, they all trouped behind her down the long hallway with the CI leading them. They all crowded in and stood agog for a few moments in the candlelight when she closed the door. Nobody spoke. She switched the light on and the group all moved around a little, looking relieved. She explained that she had used her powers already and what she saw was the fact that the killer was going to strike again. At this, the group of officers all held their breath, saying nothing, as instructed by their boss. The CI had stressed that they should all hold their own council regarding their visitor, bearing in mind that the order had come down from command. The door opened and they all quietly filed out. Many of them were silently shaking their heads, including the chief.
They had only arrived back at their desks for a minute or two, when the shout came. “Sir, there’s been another one!”
The old lady opened her door and called up the hallway.
“See? I told you!”

Just like any other day, he got off the train and began his usual route through the city streets.
It was only a five minute stroll, but he enjoyed it. He would always glance in the menswear shop at the first corner. He liked checking out the fashion. Then came the coffee strip. He never stopped to pick up a takeaway, he preferred what he got from the machine at work. It was the aromas that he liked; it prepared him for what was to come. He turned into a short mall, one of his favourite sections on his walk. There was always something happening halfway down, enough room for a busker to set up to catch the morning crowd. It was often someone with a guitar or a violin. There would be the cap or a container of some kind for coins or notes. He gave most times, just loose change. It always gave him a kick to do it.

He heard no music this time, but saw someone crouched in the usual spot. As he approached he saw that it was a young woman, cradling a baby in her arms. She was dressed in rags and the child looked filthy. There was a plastic pot with a hand-written card propped against it asking for money so that the deserted woman could feed her baby. As he slowed, he felt in his pocket and came up with a few coins. He stooped to drop them in. Being a redhead himself, he was struck by the child’s ginger stubble. The woman looked up. As he moved on, she cried out, “Hey! Is that you?”
His pace quickened.
He was going to have to find another way of getting to the office.

The multi-storey hotel stands in the middle of a bustling city.
The watchers at the window on the eighth floor look down onto a large multi lane crossroad. All manner of vehicles and pedestrians move around the scene, all controlled by never-ending lights. Ahead of this and beyond, a busy cityscape beckons. For these watchers, after breakfast, the day begins. Out onto the pavement and the heat and humidity of the morning, across the road and up the steps beside a neighbouring building. A long stroll along the building’s side, with its small shop fronts on one side and a long row of chairs and tables set up on the other. At the far corner, a short walk to the steps that lead to a station. Down one elevator, then another. Finally, deep underground, a great concourse, with its many lines and destinations.
The city above beckons, again.

The man was going to cause trouble if she didn’t act quickly to head it off.
She had become fond of him, but his overhearing the conversation between the two brothers just before the robbery took place, meant that he had to go. She sat thinking for a long time about how to get rid of him. Careful thought had to go into coming up with a simple plan. Something that would not arouse any suspicions. A straightforward car accident would be one way; a simple way. Unless any better ideas came up, she would work something out using the car accident approach. The fact that he had a history of dangerous driving would give credence to the idea. The more she thought about it, the more she liked it.

With a new sense of direction she returned to her laptop and the story.

It all began several centuries ago.
All of the greatest world sporting events were being eaten away by increasing levels of bad behaviour. There was a great deal of cheating going on and the club managers and all the various types of sports authorities and controlling bodies were allowing it to happen. This applied to any kind of athletic activity requiring a certain skill or physical competence of a competitive nature, such as football, polo, baseball, golf, boxing, wrestling, tennis, racing, bowling, hunting, shooting and fishing; the list goes on. It seemed to be the case that as long as money was being made the competitors could carry on with any unsportsmanlike conduct of their choosing, as though it was being sanctioned by their paymasters, without bringing either the players or their masters into disrepute.
At first it was only the purists that didn’t like ball tampering and on-field sledging, etc., but as time went on it became apparent that this small percentage of supporters was gaining a voice. Looking back, it must have taken decades before attitudes changed and there were stronger and more effective calls for the principle of good sportsmanship to return globally to the world of sport. When the Fairness in Sport Commission was first created, little did anyone know just how far it would go. This became apparent when strict penalties for cheating and the like were brought in to curb unwanted behaviour. The most severe being a lifetime ban from ever participating in the relevant sport again.

This gave birth to the Bad Sport movement. At the time this only applied to a handful of disgraced athletes, ball team players, yacht crew members, alpine sport players, their various coaches and medics and referees and so on. It was initially a small number across a vast spectrum of every kind of competitive sport. However, as these numbers grew, and they certainly grew, the Bad Sport movement was fully formed. With this newly formed kind of sport-come-entertainment approach, promoting as much bad behaviour as possible, came the audiences that appreciated the genre. Over a century or so, the popularity of Bad Sport rose to a point where it became the only form of sport that drew the crowds.
Of course, there are rules, but they are very broad. Most people that watch sport now are, in the main, simply waiting to see them broken.
It is hard to look back and imagine what sport was like way back then.
For many, it must have been really boring.

He didn’t need much in the way of incentive to travel into the future.
He’d been working on the machine in his basement for several years. The state that mankind had allowed the planet to fall into was encouragement enough to maintain the long hours he spent developing the technology. As a scientist, he considered it only a matter of time before time travel was possible. Up above, the atmosphere was deteriorating at an alarming rate. Pollution seemed to be prevalent across all continents and the planet was definitely warming. He felt he was giving himself the chance to be part of a brighter future. When the time came, he decided that going forward a hundred years should provide him with what he was seeking.

He climbed into his capsule and carefully set the required digital status on the tiny dashboard. When he was satisfied with the settings, he activated the machine. When the buzzing finally stopped, he climbed out. He was no longer in his old basement, but in what seemed to be a platform that was part of an underground transit system. People began milling around, obviously fascinated with the sudden appearance of his capsule. He clicked the central locking device and doing his best to avoid dozens of questions, made his way up to the surface. When he emerged onto the street, it was a very bright, beautiful day. There could be no doubt that he had achieved his goal.
He could see he was in the same city, but there were so many changes he was disorientated. He needed to contact people in the science community to discuss what he had done. He began questioning people. Finally, a man was able to tell him where he could find the city’s science institute. The head of what was called the future development program, an elderly professor, had to be encouraged to return to the capsule before he was willing to take the time traveller seriously. After a great deal of discussion, they returned to the institute. It was while making their way back that the professor made the traveller aware for the first time that a great dome covered the city.
Back in his office, the professor explained that the number of Earth’s inhabitants had been drastically reduced owing to the atmosphere being unbreathable and the temperature outside of the dome so high that almost all life forms were unsustainable. He went on to explain that he had a team of the world’s top scientists working on their own machine.
When the traveller asked how far into the future he proposed to go, the professor pointed out that their work was very difficult, because they were trying to go back!

The man was in the changing room, running late as usual.
The game was over and he was the last player to shower and change. It was late and everybody had gone home. Then, sitting on one of the benches, he got carried away checking all his text messages, especially dealing with a long one from his uncle. That’s why he was surprised to hear someone coming in. He couldn’t imagine who it could be, so he instinctively ducked into a stall and left a crack in the door. He watched as the stranger tentatively made his way to one of the basins, and after searching around found the tap and turned it on. He obviously had poor eyesight. The watcher didn’t recognise him at all. He would have remembered seeing him before. The man was a strange-looking character, there was no doubt about that.
He was quite tiny and was wearing a peculiar looking tracksuit, so only his hands and face were visible. There seemed to be a pale green tinge to his skin, as though he had some sort of rare medical condition. He appeared to be washing his hands. From his hiding place he could see the man’s face reflected in the mirror. He was definitely ugly. He, or it, had no hair, just a large greenish dome. Its eyes were huge, being at least twice the normal size. It didn’t seem to have eyelashes or eyelids. It was hard enough looking at the creature, but what came next would stay with him for the rest of his days.
Fumbling about, the thing manage to turn the tap on full. It turned down the roll neck part of his upper suit. Some kind of metal neck collar could be seen. With skinny looking fingers it seemed to be massaging its neck, but it wasn’t. With a sudden jerking movement, the head rotated slightly and came off! The thing proceeded to hold it under the tap, turning it around. It was washing its head! As he watched in disbelief, the creature peeled a thick washer off from the opening of the neck and scrubbed it under the tap. This was replaced, and so was the head. It snapped back into place with a slight twist. Then, still looking as though it was half blind, the thing turned and stumbled its way out.
Still in a complete state of shock he followed it out, and sitting on an outside bench, he watched as the thing entered a small porthole on the side of an enormous flying saucer that almost filled the rugby field. The aperture closed and within seconds the craft began to rise in complete silence. It moved slowly up at first, then with a barely audible swish, disappeared into the night sky.

He tumbled off the bench. Hitting the tiled floor of the changing room shook him awake. He looked around, thinking that he really should get more sleep. What he had just seen was still vividly buzzing around in his head. Although he couldn’t be sure, the fact that his uncle was going to help him fit a new head gasket on his car tomorrow just might have something to do with it.

She was looking out of the window, sipping coffee, watching the fog drift by.
Her phone buzzed; she picked it up.
Him: Do you expect to be home late?
Her: Not if I can get the Bamford contract signed off by the boss. You?
Him: No. Forgot to ask, is Friday still on?
Her: Don’t know, I’ll ask her lunchtime.
Him: I may get a chance to come by for lunch today.
Her: Oh! Really?
Him: Yep. Have papers to drop off during morning.
Her: Canteen or go out?
Him: Depends how much time I have.
Her: Let me know later.
Him: Sure. Later then.
Her: OK. I’ll have to…
She never saw the truck.

There is so much that is unseen,
Where concealment is in play.
Not knowing where to look;
All that is hidden, stays that way.
–
Things that remain obscure,
Inside a story or a word,
Hidden in a subtle change,
Or something never heard.
–
Hiding in a thought,
A gesture or a smile,
A simple case of absence,
Or through another’s guile.
–
By lack of light or camouflage,
An idea destroyed,
Or buried deep within a heart,
With iniquity employed.
–
Lost in a memory,
An embrace or a touch.
The fact that some things can’t be found,
Is ineffable, as such.
–
So many things are out of view,
And no searching will this allay.
There comes a trite acceptance,
That things that are truly hidden,
Tend to stay that way.