Fiction
“Can I just take a few details,” Jane asked as the unremarkably short, unremarkably thin and unremarkably… average man sat in the visitors’ chair in front of her desk.
“Sure.”
Hair; brown. Jacket; brown. Corduroys; brown. Shoes; brown. Jane detected a pattern.
…
“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. …
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. …
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. A scientist. She seemed so young now.
“Isaac! Are you listening to me?”
Isaac. From Ishaq: “he will laugh.” …
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. …