Herr Nussbaum looked over his rimless glasses at the stout woman sitting across from him and licked his lips. The taste of his morning Bloody Mary scuttled to the back of his throat. “Gentlemen and Frau Bauer,” he continued, spitting out the name. “You all knew this day was coming, but no one knew it would be as bad as this.” He threw the report into the centre of the table and it landed with a clap. “Months of scouring the footpaths, dragging up and down the streets of outer suburbs, camping out at traffic lights, lobbying for tighter, more exact laws—”
“And the overtime!” Continue reading A Year of Compliance
It has been quite a while since the last Stephenie Meyer Physical Challenge (although I’d hazard a guess that everyone is still recovering from the psychological and physiological damage) but I haven’t been consuming the daily recommended dose of fibre as of late and therefore have not had much occasion to visit the bibliolavatory. Continue reading 50 Shades of Muttering and other idiocies
A kiss is a mischievous device — it can switch the human mind from doubt to hope, excitement to despair, and in a second trigger a shock of questions: Why did she kiss me? Why didn’t she? Why did he kiss me in that way? What if he had never kissed me that day, or in that place?
For lovers and potential lovers, even the most trivial meeting of lips can conjure powerful emotions and possibilities. Continue reading ‘The Kiss’ by Anton Chekhov – a review
It is the way of ideas to burn brightly for a time. Given enough fuel they ignite passions, blaze through communities, spark enlightenment and become beacons for the disenfranchised and hopeless.
But like the people who promote them, they dim and weaken until the fervour, the arguments and optimism which drove them turn to ash, and only darkness remains.
It may seem a melodramatic way to introduce Kazuo Ishiguro’s short story, A Village After Dark, yet it is this darkness – this vacuum of conviction where ideas once shone – which provides the main setting.
Maintain stock. Serve the customer. Protect the revenue.
Twenty-four hours a day, this is what I do. I record every square nanometre of the shop floor, track customer analytics, monitor stock levels, conduct transactions, and upload the hourly profit statements. The programming dictates. Continue reading The Programming Dictates
Donald hopped out of the taxi, the long flight still heavy in his ankles. “Keep it,” he mumbled handing over a hundred.
“Merry Christmas,” the driver said before skidding off down the oak-lined road.
In the street lamp’s yellow wash, Donald thought he could see his father-in-law’s frowning face in the the two-story Victorian’s facade – his white eyebrows in the eaves, his brick jaw resting squarely against the trimmed grass – and he was suddenly thankful he’d been delayed. Continue reading Make up sex