Perfect memories

In my laboratory, I apply laser technology, to take thinner and thinner slices of my past life and subject them to historical re-engineering. Having perfected my technique, I’m sending in my clone to clear up the mess. My future is now made from scraps of DNA salvaged from the last of my unsullied remnants. Unfortunately, … Continue reading Perfect memories

The whole package and nothing but the package

The cheque arrived like mail to the wrong address. (No-one of those dollars lives here.) Paying the mortgage you expect whistles and bells (or at least the screen to play "We're In The Money") but it doesn't blink. A teller's smile seems less than adequate. Walking into a home you now own, nothing has changed. … Continue reading The whole package and nothing but the package

Turtledove wisdom

I set aside the dystopian novel I'm reading and gaze through the window glass for external sustenance. An immigrant turtledove, all fluid twitching and watchful arrogance, lands and stands central and as still as the paving. Then preliminary scouting, to ensure the dog is fly-wire encaged. Assured, she feigns aimless feeding on morsels, slouching, crab-like, … Continue reading Turtledove wisdom

Meetings, bloody meetings

We met, straggling in like Brown's cows, approximating the appointed time. We talked in arcane codes of acronym, approximating the agenda. Skillfully sliding over specifics, we adjourned matters, pending further information. Making sly digs at absent colleagues, we wallowed in gossip and angst for the future we were avoiding. There was no cuppa at the … Continue reading Meetings, bloody meetings

Is that a gun in your pocket or do you just need a consultant?

Licensed to solicit, I ply my trade among the managerial class that like to delegate their bastardry.   One gets my number from a satisfied customer or I may be seen, a silken jargon-tattooed thigh, or a well-researched décolletage,’ exposed at all the right conferences.   Naturally, there are dangers; a political basher here, an … Continue reading Is that a gun in your pocket or do you just need a consultant?


In popular history the alchemist was a figure of mystical greed in dark workshops, forever reducing the base in the search for gold, 'midst mumbled incantations and closely guarded formulae. Her history is one of worldly spendthrift, perceiving that gold is the base with the lights on and shouting the obvious to the oblivious from … Continue reading THE ALCHEMIST


Beware the wine-sodden brain flailing on, kidding itself in the darker hours, paying homage to could-a-been. Beware the anger trotted out, dusted off and laid bare to reflections in a bloodshot eye, to spring a self-laid trap. Let there be a new start, urged on by a body daily less vertical and thoughts of eternity … Continue reading THE DEVIL TAKES THE COULD-A-BEENS