Balance Shifts

Sunlight fell, those who saw it for the last time uttered cries of disbelief, as the centre of everything we know was enveloped in a casket of stark emptiness. The sky deprived of illumination became as dark as the hearts of those men whose deeds allow us to see the worst things imaginable. The blackness spilled out of the pit washing over the landscape like a torrent of forgetfulness, nothing escaped the absence of colour, power failed and centuries of progress were taken away leaving only the stark terror of the before. Oceans of dark water pitched battle against colourless rock and soil, waves crashing in a confrontation observed by no one. Sound became overpowering, distance and location intermingled in the nothingness leaving only the hollow memories and the constant terrors of the abyss of one's own soul.

Everything's Giggles Forever

Everything's just bursting with stardust and sweet and nice,
Trees are growing giving life to the people and smiling,
Today was so good that they're working on a brand new word,
For something so good as today that's much better than "so good" ,
And tonight's going to be better than now, it's ridiculous,
(but only insofar as "ridiculous" is meant in a positive context).
Because everything's just glowing with moonbeams everywhere, forever.
Hey, look - it's a perfect rainbow - as if to accentuate how good everything really is...
Salmon are leaping from streams in the sunlight,
Winking at the world above before back-flipping back to their watery homes,
And birds of paradise are singing their songs for the ears of corn
That grow and sway in unison to the sound of the songs above,
And lambs gambol and play, while countless kittens chase perfect balls of wool
That they asked the lambs to provide, and who were more than happy to oblige.

On "Smoking Ban"

I was looking at "Smoking Ban"
And then I wondered,
"How many faces exist in the smoke?"
And then I wondered,
"Why would the smoke dance away to the night?"
And then I wondered,
"How many nights are there lost to the mists?"
And then I wondered,
"How many mists are there turning to day?"
And then I wondered,
"How many days will it take to forget?"
And then I wondered.
And then I wondered.

The Killing of Loz

Shards of light streamed through gaps in the clearing like a glitter ball at a disco, he leaned against the forgotten fencing contemplating the moss growing on the rotting wood. He kicked his feet digging them into the dirt beneath him, his hand gripping the barrel of his rifle, the cool metal calmly awaiting the promise of action. His stomach jumped around, the excitement of the event to come almost too much to bear, but at the same time it filled him with joy like a child awaiting Christmas morning.
Bird song, the rustling of branches and the distant sound of civilisation dimmed as he picked up the voice of footsteps, the grip on his rifle tightened. He concentrated on the approaching sound, squinting through the half light he saw a silhouette, movement on the track just beyond the twisted branches that concealed him.
His attention was drawn to movement near to him, a rabbit scuttling about the dead matter on the floor, it stopped, it's head reared in his direction recognising danger it fled and he returned to his original object of interest to find him looking right back at him. Avoiding the desire to raise his weapon he stayed motionless as his prey seemed to be unable to make out exactly what he was observing, seconds passed like a Tuesday afternoon, his urge to act tightening his muscles, focusing him. The target moved on, pressing forward with obvious caution. He could resist desire no more, he stepped out of the comfort of hiding and prepared to quench his thirst.
He took his rifle in both hands, as he raised it to his eyes everything but the target blurred, a moment to take in the oblivious nature of his prey then a gentle squeeze and his heart froze with delight. The recipient of the bullet collapsed like a puppet freed from it's strings. Putting the rifle to his nose he inhaled the bouquet of discharged gunpowder, walking across to his fallen trophy. Released from anticipation he now revelled in the act itself, he took a canister of lighter fluid from his chord jacket pocket, fixing his eyes on the dull eyes of the dying.
A brief smile of control crossed his lips as he dowsed flesh with the odorous liquid, his action barely registering a response from the rapidly vacating soul in the husk of man on the floor. A moment of panic in the ensuing search for a match, then all that was left to do was to strike away from face and soon the trail was awash in crackling colour. He grinned as the heat struck his face, he visibly shook as he watched cloth and skin become a corrupted indivisible mass bathed in a intoxicating piquant stench.
As the fire dulled and the sunlight faded the excitement of fulfillment was overcome by the agony of longing. Next time he would not wait so long.

Smoking Ban

The Death of Loz

The path ahead was obvious, not in an Adam Sandler way, but in that it was the only way home, a ragged dirt path bordered by haggard bushes and withered trees that longed for sunlight, allowing only for scattered glimpses of the open fields that lay beyond the paths natural prison wall. The only evidence that the species that had created the route ever utilised it were the crumpled crisp wrappers and disfigured cans of second class lager that were spread like an unreal garden amongst the fauna.
As he ambled along the dishevelled path he began to take notice of life as he had never done before, the dark light of the fading sun shooting through gaps on the foliage, the undulating call of wrens and blackbirds as they darted from branch to canopy alerting others to the presence of a stranger. A Rabbit shuffled across in front of him, he followed it's movements as it crept through the ground of dead plant matter, when without warning it perked up and fled, he strained into the darkness of the clutter of hawthorn bushes, in the half light he saw a figure, an image of a soul, the glint of metal in hand, the sense of a piercing look.
Not startled but with unease flooding his head he took off, hoping an air of calm would persuade his watcher to stay put. Time stopped behaving and slowed allowing him to experience every second a lifetime over, the trail stretched out in front of him the hedgerow closed in, bird song ceased and behind him a twig snapped.
Every thing stopped with none of the elegance of a Hollywood special effect. He heard another click, then tuned out, he did not hear the bullet. A dull thud to his back a momentary nausea, then an eruption and a rip in his shirt. The floor approached and skull connected with thick clay. Sound returned, the music of footsteps, his vision blurred memories mixing with the now and then pungent liquid falling on him washing everything away but the searing agony of ruptured flesh, he sensed movement in front of his glazed eyes, a dancing glowing light, it moved closer and closer then an explosion of colour was everywhere. Then darkness, an unutterable stygian pit. But peace.

R.I.P Loz
Born 20:40 10th March 2008
Died 20:50 10th March 2008