Fiction
I sat there more nervous than I’ve ever been. Some git taxi driver at the next table was shouting for his egg and chips.
I caught Julie’s wrist as she put my mug of tea down on the table. I sort of gestured and pulled her down to sit opposite me.
She looked at me blank, I couldn’t tell if she knew what was coming or not. She just waited. …
“You’re listening to BBC Radio 9, Night-time and we’re in the Closet. Thats the musical special-interest closet for all you fans of indie hardcore, grunge, guitar, mixed core, fruit-and-nut, hub-cap and community disco; be it on download, CD, vinyl, 78, 45, 33 and a third, 38-26-34, Arsenal-Brentford one-nil, 911-assist or the vuvuzela.
I’m Bob Bobley, welcome to the show. Glad you could join us for a pint of cider and some of the most specialist music around.
You just heard the grunge guitar sound of Vlad the Imperfect with their new single, I Spit on Your Carpet. Now, we go over the BBCs Maida Vale Studios where we have a live session with North Somerset indie sensations, Daniel and the Space Beavers…”
From the observation deck, the star seems only a little brighter than usual.
Through the polarised filters and shielding, close enough to touch, filling the entire space. Safe. Comforting.
Unlike the truth of it. The destructive power of it; awesome in its’ true meaning.
Where he used to come to watch it with Bella. The changing, shifting patterns and tints in the furnace.
Where they would join together. Unable to stop themselves. There, in its’ light.
Creation. Destruction. Renewal. Love. …
Of necessity,
with Skype still we endeavour;
Dependency hell.
“Isaac, we’ve already had this conversation.”
Mayweather. I always thought of her as a good station commander. For a scientist. She seemed so young now.
“Isaac! Are you listening to me?”
Isaac. From Ishaq: “he will laugh.”
How often have I laughed?
“I can’t do any more, Isaac. We’ve put this off too long already.”
Too long. How long was that? …
I believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth and of all things visible and invisible-
Anjuron was thankful for the descending darkness as he made his way through Jerusalem’s streets, as the guards set the few Moslem prisoners to clearing the dead, washing away two days of blood.
In one Lord Jesus Christ, Light of Light –
Passing armed men and their followers from the camp carrying off their loot, down through the city toward the Tower of St. David. Anjuron had no plan to effect his entrance to the fortress, much less to reach Count Raimond.
But at the torch-lit portcullis of David’s Tower where he expected the banners of Toulouse, instead were Lorrainer guards, standing victorious under the banner of the cross, the red almost dripping like blood down the white canvas in the flickering light. …