As the Years Past – 30th April 2014 (23:30)

I sleep until my wife comes home. She cuddles me tightly from behind, wrapping her arms under my arms and squeezing my shoulders. I feel her kiss my shoulder and I roll over.

She is beneath me.

I smile and move in to kiss her neck, gently.

But as I move my face towards her soft, sweet neck, the skin becomes wrinkled, as does all the skin on her body,age suddenly shows it blemishes on her young body, her breasts sag and her face droops.

Then as quickly as the first, her skin breaks, and bleeds, and oozes, before it slowly disintegrates, like paper in a fire it thins and shrivels and dies away revealing bare muscle which follows suit of the skin, it shrinks and turns a sickly purple grey before tearing and ripping and barely being anything more than thin, loose sheets.

And so I am left over on the skeleton of my wife, the neck and jaw hanging loosely, the empty crevasse of the eye sockets, the last remnants of the eyeball drying up, turning to ash.
Her skeleton is a desert, dry and barren and then it is no longer a desert because it no longer is.
In a cloud of dust it disappears and she is gone. But I do not cry, not any more. I go back to sleep, knowing that it is what it is, and that she has been gone for many years.

Premeditated Something – 29th April 2014 (22:15)

To say his actions took hours to ferment would be an understatement. To say that he did it on the spur of the moment would be a terrible error in judgement. To say he was deranged and not in a psychologically stable state, would be fair, but not entirely true.

Why Gordon did what he did may never be clear to anyone other than Gordon. He didn’t seem like the type. He was sociable. He was the right kind of emotional. He had never done anything like this before. He had had no severe trauma of lot of growing up.

It was out of character and it made people afraid of him. Afraid of what he might do to them, what he could do and who he could do it to.

No one knew why Gordon did what he did. No one wanted to talk to him long enough to find out. Gordon was a creep.

Sacrifice – 28th April 2014 (23:04)

The crowd gathered round. The Gods had sent down their claims and awaited a sacrifice.

The crowd knew, as they always had, that until the Gods were appeased they would not leave. How many sacrifices it would take, they did not know, but it would appease them, at least for a little while.

They would get their last meal, as given by the Gods and then they were gone. Taken to heaven.

No one knew what was after that.

Many speculated that judgement day was coming, as more and more were being taken. The righteous were saved and those who allowed others to be taken would be left to face the poison that the Gods left behind.

The sacrifices made their way forwards. Bit into their last meal and then they were to the heavens faster than they could move.

“You catch anything, Tony?”

“Big fat ol’ Tuna, John!”

“Well done! Keep going, for more til we can head home.”

Voting – 27th April 2014 (23:02)

A great leader once rose up who was not affiliated to any of the current parties. They had no business or rich fat cats backing them, they had no long family ties in politics, they had no public school education.

This person was smart, there was no doubt about that, they had a good job which they worked hard for and they reached that job with an education that was free. They had spent their youth playing in the park and playing knock down ginger. Having a kick about with their friends and complaining about teachers and not doing their homework. They put a lot of effort in when it was needed and had a family who they looked out for and in return they did they same for them.

They were brave and knew the right thing to do. They weren’t racist, or sexist, or have an affiliation with any -ists or -isms, they were simply a decent human. They did not get angry because a man loves a man and they did not get angry because some were on benefits.

They knew what they should do.

They fed the hungry and cared for the sick. They put those who could work into jobs, and provided for those who were stuck. They reformed convicts, and gave them the push that they need. They welcomed those who would help the country grow, and expelled those who would see harm befall their people. They made sure there were jobs for all and didn’t screw up the education system. They brought down crime and ended their wars. They united the country and bought its economy to the strongest point it could be. They were loved by all and respected all the more.

They were a great leader.

But sadly, this tale is missing a key phrase. As factual as one would like this to be it should have started with the words; “In a land far far away,” because things as fantastical as a leader to fix a broken country and make it how it should be, cannot belong anywhere but in the story of children’s fantasy.

I love you Daddy – 26th April 2014 (22:50)

“I love you daddy!” Said the little girl into her fathers chest.

“I love you too my darling,” he replied.

She fell asleep soon after, softly dreaming of the wonderful world.

Her father out her to bed, left the house, and continued his mission against the dark. The only thing keeping him from falling into their clutches, his little girl.

The shining goodness of her heart, a light for him to find his way back.

Life is a Lottery – Part 5 25th April 2014 (22:30)

New evidence has emerged this morning in the wake of a wave of new arrests. Although the police have not stipulated what this evidence, we have reason to believe that it suggests multiple murders. Emily reports.

“I’m standing here in front of the local playing field where it is believed police recovered evidence pointing to at least five collaborators in the Raja murder. According to locals, there was another body found under the slide this morning which could suggest the turned on one another soon after murdering Mr Raja.”

Thank you Emily. We’ll have more on this story as it breaks.

Life is a Lottery -Part 4 24th April 2014 (22:35)

“Is that why you killed him Joe? Because he was a family man, kicked the habit like you never could? Is that it, simple jealousy? You know you make me sick.” The officer had leant very closely to Joe’s sweaty face.

“I’ve already told you, I didn’t do it. I bought my lottery ticket and then left.”

“Then why do we have CCTV footage of Mr Raja handing you a bottle of vodka Joe?”

“Ok, I still didn’t do it. I bought my lottery ticket and then a bottle of vodka and then left. Nothing changed.”

“Why would you bother to buy a bottle of vodka, or any alcohol for that matter from your AA sponsor Joe?” The officer sat down, palms against the metal. A mirror for Joe except for Joe’s moist skin and coarse beard that prickled his face.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I think you murdered Dev after he refused to stop sponsoring you. Your wife left you I hear? Couldn’t take any more of your drinking . You blame Dev and the only way out?” The office exploded out of his chair, screaming, “you shot him!”

Joe broke down in tears.

Life is a Lottery – Part 3 23rd April 2014 (22:25)

Police have made a total of five arrests and bought a further two suspects in for questioning regarding the murder of shopkeeper and immigrant, Dev Raja. Dev, who runs a local lottery, was shot dead on Friday afternoon, less than an hour before he was due to close the store.

The camera cuts away from panoramic shots of the town and the row of flowers that had been left outside the store to a reporter. She held the mike tightly to her mouth as the wind flapped her dark brown hair about her face.

“It’s not entirely clear as yet who could have committed this heinous crime and the police have not stated why they have arrested the five residents of this town. There as been some speculation by the people we’ve been speaking to that they were conspirators but there is yet to be a statement confirming or dying this.”

And is it true that the police found the money stolen from the store, in a duffel bag right around the corner?

There is a short delay before the reporter responds to the question. As she waits she nods and tries to keep her hair under control.

“Yes. The police arrived on scene around three hours after Mr Raja was supposedly shot. A short time later, one of the sweeper teams who’s primary role is to find evidence in the surrounding area, spotted the duffel bag stuffed in an electricity box. They then opened it up and found the money inside, approximately £150,000. This really points to a murder rather than manslaughter as a results of a butched burglary .”

And do we know who the police have taken into questioning and Why aren’t they under arrest like the others?

“Well it is understood that the two under questioning by the police a Mr and Mrs Hurtfelt, were the elderly couple to report the body when they went into his shop. The others a Mrs Jessage, Mr Albright and Ms Freya and her partner Ms Dewer are said to be either in the immediate proximity either by residency, which is reportedly a big problem along this road where a lot of immigrants move to which has caused a lot of tension in the past, or proximity such as the case of Mr Albright and Ms Freya and Dewer.”

The reports yanked at the lose strands of hair that had crept into his open mouth. “Now the fifth arrest was Mr Joe O’Connell who is believe to be the last customer in his store before Mr Raja was murdered.”

Thank you. Ms Towler will be staying on location to bring us all the latest news as it progresses. Thank you. Now, have you ever wondered just how much work a new born baby is? Well as new study conducted in Sweden…

Life is a Lottery – Part 2 22nd April 2014 (22:15)

The police tape crinkled as the forensic team made their final sweep of the door way. The last two left the store and were quickly approached by the officers in charge who had been waiting in the cold, shivering on the spot as they enjoyed the last few moments of solace that their morning nicotine in take have them. They’d be having another cigarette in less than an hour.

“What do we have?”

“Well, the shop owner took a bullet to the head, only a low calibere on but at the close range that he and the killer were at it was more than enough to send his brains across the back wall,” he pointed back towards the shop with his thumb. “We’ll find out more about the bullet when we get it out of his head during autopsy.”

The officers looked blankly. They dealt very much with facts whilst the forensic team were down with the details. Chalk and cheese in every sense of the phrase. The officer couldn’t care less what calibre the bullet was unless it lead to an arrest.

“The owner,” the forensic analysist checked his notes, “Dev, knew the shooter. He was facing them when they came in and CCTV shows that he was talking to them, big old smile on his face.”

“There’s CCTV?”

“Only of the till point, can’t see the door or anything else in the store.”

The detective couldn’t hide the disbelief from his face.

The analysts just shrugged. “Small town shop owner, can’t afford to kit out the whole shop.”

“Any ideas why?” Straight to the point as ever.

“Why does anybody walk into a store and shoot someone in the face?” The detective looked disapprovingly at him. “We’re not sure. At first we suspected it was a straight up robbery. They do a local lottery type thing here, Dev had a little under £250,000 in his safe according to the books.”

“But you don’t think that anymore?” The officer tried to coax more out of his colleague. He was finding it difficult, he got more out of interrogations.

“Well, there was 120 grand left in the safe.”

“So, they heard the sirens and legged it?”

“Not likely. The owner was dead for over two hours before we were called. Seems more likely that it was personal and it was an attempted cover up.” The analyist smiled proudly of his work. “Throw us off the scent,” he offered.

“Sir!” An police officer emerged from an alley clutching a duffel bag. “You’re going to want to see this!”

Life is a Lottery – Part 1 21st April 2014 (21:23)

“Hey Joe, you in for the lottery this week?”

Joe sighed and looked at the middle aged shop keep. His grey hair and thick bushy moustache shone bright against his dark skin.

“Yes Dev, I’m in. I’m in every week. Please, you know this.”

“Oh, I know, I Know! I just don’t want you to miss out,” he said, laughing whilst he printed Joe out a ticket. Dev had the great habit of ignoring rude customers and in the middle class village that he worked in he had to. “Anything else for you today Joe?”

“Bottle of vodka,” he said vaguely pointing towards the back shelf, “the cheap one will do.”

Dev slipped the vodka and made sure Joe picked up the ticket but taking his money. 16-75 and Joe took every penny back for himself.

“Thank you Joe, and good luck!” Dev called after his customer as he walked out of the store without even a farewell.

Dev typed up joe’s lottery ticket and added it to the pile. For the past three years, the village had bought tickets from Dev for the lottery. Each week there was a prize of £100 for a wining ticket (this itself had grown over the years as more and more citizens wanted in on the cash) and at the end of the financial year, which Dev had marked out in the calendar as big a day as Christmas, there would be £250,000 up for grabs.

Dev would of course keep some back for himself, some back for charity but the prospect of winning that much drew people in from the outskirts of the village in the hope of scooping the prize.

It was getting late, and Dev started cashing up. The draw was going to be over the weekend and the last few people yet to buy their tickets would be heading into the store either in the last half hour before close or earlier Saturday morning. Almost as soon as he thought about closing up, Dev heard the bell go and looked up to see a familiar face.

“Oh hello, didn’t expect to be seeing you again so soon. Don’t you already have a ticket?” And then Dev was dead.