I think she got some of it on sale.
Flush with cash, dame from North Carolina
who so craved a sweet custom vagina
said her beau “looks fantastic
though your clit’s made of plastic
and your labia’s hand made in China”
Not sure this one has much of an audience at all really. Oh well, it’s still something I guess.
Clad in white, fellow quite fond of cricket
So much so he would dance down the wicket
And with joyous delight
In the sun shining bright
Pull a stump out, caress it and lick it
Of all the things that I had so far seen the sight before me was right up there with the most curious. I had expected witches of the traditional earthly type but these were very much something else.
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Glass Houses’. I am also doing this on three hours sleep so I think it’s a bit all over.
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it. It’s certainly taking me longer than ten minutes but I will keep going with this for as long as I can and see where each days takes this. Either that or Ill stop if no one is reading it because its either too long or too ridiculous.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
Of all the things that I had so far seen the sight before me was right up there with the most curious. I had expected witches of the traditional earthly type but these were very much something else. Perhaps I lacked imagination.
“Let me do the speaking” Plumduff insisted as a heavy door closed behind us. She had obviously forgotten how very little I actually knew of what was going on. I checked my watch and it confirmed that despite it being night here it was just after nine in the morning. My stomach rumbled and I regretted not having breakfast.
The room we were in was mostly empty. It was small, perhaps two or three times the size of Plumduff’s office. A fire burned in a tall fireplace on one wall and a number of bookshelves were scattered along the others, their shelves groaning under the weight of dusty leather bound books. On a small table to one side were a collection of jars and beakers, each filled with a liquid or a powder.
It was in many ways just what you might expect, and lacked perhaps only a witches cat or a collection of broomsticks to really set the room off perfectly. The witches however were not quite what I expected.
I heard them before I saw them, a sweet melodic voice breaking the silence.
“Plumduff, well it certainly has been a while hasn’t it.”
I strained to make out where the voice was coming from. Only the light from the fire illuminated the room and as my eyes became accustomed to the darkness where once there was nothing shadows now danced across the walls as two tall women in white seemed slowly appear out of the darkness.
“It has indeed” Plumduff replied continuing to walk towards them. “After the events of last time I thought it best to stay away for a while.”
“Most wise” said the taller of the two, which was quite something because they towered over us. Dressed head to toe in long flowing white robes, with hair to their waists as white as snow they looked down as I stared open mouthed.
“New partner Plumduff?” they asked in unison.
“Don’t mind him” She replied, “he’s harmless enough.”
I paused for a moment and considered responding but by the time I had decided to speak it was too late.
“That’s what they said about you Margaret, and look at how things turned out. What do you want this time?”
Plumduff smiled, reached into her bag and pulled out the cylindrical device we had retrieved from Periscope. She held it up for them to see.
“Oh my my, that is a thing” the shorter one said reaching for it. Plumduff withdrew it preventing her from taking it.
“Do you not want to share Margaret” the taller asked.
“You know what it is then?”
“Knowledge comes at a cost Margaret, you know that it is the way here in Bunderburg. You get nothing for nothing my dear.”
“Help me and we consider your debt paid.” Plumduff said putting it back in her bag and zipping it closed. “You obviously know what it is.”
“Our debt to you is long repaid” snapped the shorter of the two and she took a step towards us. She was most menacing and I withdrew as she got closer. Plumduff however did not and she stepped forward to meet her, the top of her head barely above the witches waist. She looked up and spoke again.
“Okay, help me this time and I and all of my colleagues will stay far away from here for at least three cycles. How does that sound? You can do as you wish without fear of interference or repercussions. Glasshouses, Silver Harbour, Enthorpe – all yours to enjoy until your twisted hearts content.”
I looked across at Plumduff quizzically. The list of things I did not know about continued to grow at an alarming rate. This sounded far more like a racket than policing.
Plumduff looked back at me and winked as the witches took a few paces back and conferred in hushed tones.
“Something is coming Margaret” they said, again in unison. The fire died and the room was plunged into darkness. Their voices took a more sinister tone and echoed as they spoke. “There is something that needs what you have because it comes from nowhere and everywhere, and it has a hunger that cannot be satisfied.”
Impatiently Plumduff interrupted.
“Ladies please, there really is no need for the dramatics – just the information.” She shook her head, tutted and waited.
“That thing will let you traverse all and any reality that overlaps the fracture and enter any of the timelines.”
“See” said Plumduff. “Nice and simple.”
“You heard what we said right?” The taller witch said thinking that Plumduff had not.
“Yes, I heard you” she replied. “And I can see why anyone would want it, the ability to be anywhere and everywhere and any when is quite something indeed.”
“That it is” they replied together walking towards where we stood. “I’m afraid though that we must insist you hand it over now Margaret. It is far too valuable for you to possess.”
At this point I realised that being dead does in no way remove the fear of dying and it occurred that perhaps there were things far far worse than death to be worried about. Stepping backwards as the witches advanced I felt Plumduff’s hand on my arm.
“When I say run, you run” she said. Before I could nod she shouted.
“Run!”
Negative, it just impacted on the surface…
A virile young fellow named Darren
He divorced, said his missus was barren
try as hard as he could
Was his sperm that was dud
She remarried, 3 kids, Joe, Zak, Aaron
But probably not as bad as prostitution.
Narcoleptic chain smoker, Belinda
Nodded off, burnt her house to a cinder
Now she’s trying to make cash
On the street selling ass
To the men that she locates on Tinder
Time to deal with Henry methinks or I will never get this thing finished…
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Spotted speck’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it. It’s certainly taking me longer than ten minutes but I will keep going with this for as long as I can and see where each days takes this. Either that or Ill stop if no one is reading it because its either too long or too ridiculous.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Henry walked slowly towards the tree. Drawn inexplicably and irresistibly, each step lighter than the one before and each one satisfying a growing desperation. At first in had appeared a speck in the distance, a dark spot in this barren landscape of nothing and as he walked towards it the silver grey branches were revealed, reaching as high upwards as her roots did downwards into nothing and it called to him in hushed comforting tones. He could hear the verdant green leaves rustling, joyous noise in this empty windless vacuum of solitude.
“Im coming” he whispered aloud. For the briefest of moments he considered that he may just have seen another person but then again, perhaps not. There was nothing to see here in the misty grey and he had wandered for so very long that his mind would often betray him with flashes of other worlds and disembodied voices.
That was a long time ago now though, and for as long as he could remember there was simply nothing.
“I’ve been waiting Henry” came soft welcoming words. “It’s time.”
Henry’s pace quickened, the gnarled trunk and sprawling branches towering high above him as he wandered below the dappled cover of her branches. Light streamed through the lush green canopy, yet above there was no sun to be seen. The golden rays were warm on his skin and he felt once more alive and awake.
“Where am I” Henry asked placing a hand on the trunk. It was rough and warm to the touch, and he could feel life coursing through it.
“You’re home Henry, you have reached the end of your journey.” Came the response. A voice sweet and light and full of hope.
“What happens now?”
“You will join us and return to the universe and be no more.”
Henry paused.
“Sounds a little final” he said sounding worried.
“Have no concerns” the tree replied, her soft words echoing inside his mind “it is your time Henry.”
“Doesn’t feel like my time though” he replied agitated. “In fact I suddenly feel rather alive.”
As the words left his mouth the warm golden light flooding through the leaft canopy ceased and he was filled with an icy chill.
“Do not deny me” the tree ordered, her voice now sharp and harsh. “You are mine and it is time Henry.”
Henry leapt back from the tree and turned to run, his heart pounding. Fear replaced longing and he knew he needed to get as far away from where he was. Before he could take a step he felt something wrap around his foot and he fell to the ground.
“Don’t struggle” insisted the voice in his head “it will soon be over.” Another branch reached down from the canopy above and wrapped itself around his chest. It was tight and resist as much as me might he couldn’t free himself.
“I don’t want to go” he shouted as he was lifted up into the upper branches, but the more he struggled the more he was enveloped.
“Do not resist” she hissed, her voice now cruel and harsh. Smaller branches slithered and wound themselves about him until he was completely encapsulated like a leafy green and grey cocoon. The leaves rustled as she squeezed tight.
“Sssleep” she uttered deep into his head as he lay paralysed. He felt the branches and boughs tighten, making it impossible to breathe and as he drifted into eternal blackness he heard a final satisfied “yesss” and just like that the consciousness that was Henry George ceased to existence.
A final rustle of leaves and tightening of branches around his limp body reduced what was left of his physical form to energy and the tree drank deep. His life force coursing through her, electric blue pulsing from deepest root to hightest branch for the briefest of moments.
And then, she was again still.
The prompt dictates where I go. Today it was ‘Witchy Warts’
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Witchy Warts’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it. It’s certainly taking me longer than ten minutes but I will keep going with this for as long as I can.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
I woke early, at least I think it was early, and lay on my bed eyes closed listening to the silence. This was the first time I had slept since I could remember, and right now I was completely at peace which, given the recent events, was something that I guessed would be most unlikely to last.
Opening my eyes I looked at the watch. It was eight o’clock, later than I had expected. It was hard to know whether I ought to be up though because time seemed to have to real meaning here. I had seen no sun and had so far not even noticed whether there was day or night. I think it had been light when we went looking for Periscope but thinking about it I was not certain.
I ought to get up I thought, it was already eight but Eight o’clock for me was all good and well but probably made not one bit of difference when each overlapping reality in the fracture was on its own time.
“Are you up Armitage?” Shouted Plumduff as she rapped on the room door.
“U-huh” I replied
“Downstairs in ten then” Plumduff shouted back and I heard her now familiar click-clack fade.
The room was simple, a single bed along one wall, a chair and small wooden single door wardrobe on the other. I checked the wardrobe and being empty pulled on the previous days clothes and made the short walk back down to Plumduff’s office.
“Sleep well?” She asked.
“I think so” I replied.
“Good good, now we must be going. You have everything?”
“Watch, wallet, ring” I said patting my pocket and then holding up my hand to show her the ring. I pulled back my sleeve to reveal the watch.
“Excellent” Plumduff replied. She stood up and walked over to the office door but instead of going through she closed it, mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out, and then reopened it.
Instead of the corridor beyond which I had only moments before walked down it opened to reveal a small walled courtyard.
“Shall we?” She said walking through as I followed.
Grey stone walls framed the paved courtyard on all four sides, a solitary wooden door with heavy iron hinges waited at the far end. Above the sky was dark and there were stars shining brightly. That answered that question at least.
“Was there no change of clothes?” Plumduff asked without turning around.
“No” I answered. “I checked the wardrobe and there wasn’t anything.”
“I’ll have a word, you look a frightful state.”
I looked down at myself and she was right. Not only did my shoes still show Periscope’s tidemark but my trousers and jacket were also stained to varying degrees.
“Now I need you to stay close today please” She continued. “We are going to pay a visit to a couple of witches and they are rather unpredictable. Last time I was here there was a most unfortunate incident which resulted in Grenville spending a week as marrow afterwards.”
“Oh right I see” I replied. “A marrow you say.”
“Indeed yes a marrow” Plumduff replied. “He was a rather nice one as I recall – a most plump and colourful specimen. I won first prize at a farmer’s fair which I can assure you Grenville did not find one bit amusing. I think I still have the winners rosette in my office.”
She smiled as we reached the heavy wooded door and she stood aside to allow me through. “Be a dear would you” she said.
Pulling on the heavy metal handle it opened slowly and Plumduff walked through.
“Do close it afterwards” she instructed. “Wouldn’t want the locals finding their way through to the office would we now.”
I did as instructed and turned to follow her as she headed away down a dark cobbled street. Gone was the neon and steel and concrete and it was replaced by what appeared to be two story wood and plaster thatched buildings that lined the way. Only a few lights burned behind small windows and an eerie stillness filled the night.
“Bunderburg” said Plumduff, her tone hushed. “Pretty nasty place by most standards but if you want information then there is nowhere quite like it. Many of the realities here exist in isolation but Bunderburg, for reasons we have been unable to completely understand, seems to exist simultaneously across many of them.”
“I see” I replied. I didn’t but I was quickly getting used to the feeling and didn’t want to make a fuss. “And we’re looking for a couple of witches are we?”
I was surprised that I asked with such nonchalance given that I knew the words coming out of my mouth were complete madness. What had it been a couple of days since I turned up here? Maybe it was weeks or months, but nonetheless it was all still most surreal.
“That we are my boy, if anyone knows what the device is and what it is for then it’s them.”
“And they’re your regular run of the mill cauldron stirring broom riding types of witches are they?”
“In a sense I guess they are yes.” Plumduff replied leading us down a darkened alley. In the dim light I could just make out a door at the end of it.
“Well this is it” she continued, “and whatever you do don’t mention the warts.”
Part 12 is here (when ready)”
Perhaps you know someone feeling a little under the weather and feel stuck for what to write in the get well soon card. Fear not I have you all sorted.
Get some rest you’ll feel better I’m sure
Once it heals it will not feel so sore
You’ll be soon back to boozing
When you clear up the oozing
And next time just say no to the whore
Part ten in the ongoing tale of Armitage and Plumduff.
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Pendulum of Prosperity’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it. It’s certainly taking me longer than ten minutes but I will keep going with this for as long as I can.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Back in Plumduff’s office I noticed that my moccasins now had a tide mark about half way up marking the depth of Periscope on the bedroom floor. I uncrossed my legs preferring not to see and waited for her to speak.
She didn’t, instead concentrating quite intensely on the item we had retrieved. She rolled it in her hands as if weighing it and then tapped it gently on the desk edge. The perplexed look on her face told me that she had no idea how the thing might possibly work.
I waited a little longer until I simply could not and with the preamble of a little cough spoke.
“I know you suggested I accept things for what they are” I started as she held one end of the item up to her eye as if peering down a telescope. “But it has been a terribly long day and I have quite a lot of questions as I sure you can imagine.”
“Because you’re dead, no, possibly, because you did a brave and gallant thing, hard to say.” came her reply without stopping her investigation of the cylinder.
“I’m sorry…” I mumbled confused.
She placed the item on the desk gently. “Questions Armitage, you were going to ask questions.”
“Yes, right I was” I replied.
“Why am I here; is everyone here dead; is there any way out of here; why am I working with you, what happens next. Those were your questions.”
“Were they?” I replied.
“I think you’ll find they were yes”.
Plumduff seemed very confident on this point, and whilst I thought they were good questions I wasn’t convinced. She was, and that seemed to settle the matter. I struggled for a moment matching the questions and answers together.
“I am sorry Armitage, I realise this must all be quite something to take in.” she said, getting out of her chair and coming around from the other side of the desk and sitting down in the leather wing back next to me.
“Do you have any tea?” I asked.
Plumduff ignored my question and placed a consoling hand on my arm.
“I know this is all a lot to take in, I really do. When I first arrived it took everything I had to not lose my mind at the things I saw and were it not for Grenville I would surely have ended up taking a trip to see the tree.”
“Grenville?” I said.
“My partner. A wonderful man, if a little too fond of whisky. He would likely not be overly impressed with what I have put you through today I am sure.”
I nodded and she continued. “I am less of a stickler for the rules than he is though”. She had a twinkle in her eyes that said far more than her words were doing.
“Are you sure you don’t have any tea” I asked.
“The thing to remember Armitage is that as much as a mystery as the Fracture is we are certain of our purpose and we are called to duty. We bring order to the chaos and are a force of stability in an ever changing world where anything is possible and nothing is as it seems.”
“And I am here why again?” I asked still none the wiser why any of this was happening.
“It seems, and please do not ask why because I do not know – though I have my own thoughts on the matter – that through sacrifice we are called and you made a sacrifice. For many dead is dead Armitage, finished, done, but for you and I death was only the beginning and you continue here for now.”
I knew there should be another ‘why’ but I held my tongue.
“As I said” Plumduff continued still holding my arm “not all who arrive here the transition, and they move on again, but for those who carry over successfully there is a place and their place is here.”
“I see” I said, though mostly I didn’t. A grandfather clock in the corner chimed as she continued.
“The Fracture is ever changing for most, and it seems that there are very few constants, but we are one.”
As the clock finished it’s fifth chime it seemed to trigger a thought in her.
“Do you still have the watch?”
I fumbled in my jacket pocket. It was still there and I pulled it out.
“Put it on” she said rolling up her cardigan sleeve and showing me a similar one on her own arm.
“The Fracture is fluid Armitage, endless overlapping realities that will come and go and of which you will for the most part only see fragments, but the time on the watch and that clock in the corner are always a constant.”
She suddenly seemed far more serious as I fastened the silver clasp on my left wrist. It was a quite unassuming time piece for the most, plain white face with black numbers, a silver case and a black strap. A small window at the three o’clock position showed a date.
“Wherever and whenever you may find yourself” she said leaning it “the watch remains constant to this reality and you be wise to always wear it.
“Sure, okay” I answered. She seemed very keen on the point and given what I had already been through it was a perfectly reasonable ask.
“Good boy” she answered getting up from her chair and straightening her dress. “Now, how about a nice cup of tea.”
Part 11 is here (when ready)”
Perhaps you know someone feeling a little under the weather and feel stuck for what to write in the get well soon card. Fear not I have you all sorted.
Eeuw I hear it’s all swollen and smelly
and there’s bits that are wobbly like jelly
I’d suggest get some cream
as it shouldn’t be green
leaking yellow puss onto your belly.
This is getting a bit out of hand now…I might have to stop soon. Or plan it better. It was only meant to take ten minutes.
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Cylindrical Circumstances’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it. It’s certainly taking me longer than ten minutes but I will keep going with this for as long as I can.
Cylindrical Circumstances
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Plumduff turned the key slowly in the lock and pushed the door open, wincing as it squeaked. The air was thick with a sickly sweet smell, certainly not at all what I was expecting.
“They’re nocturnal creatures and sleep heavily” she whispered reassuringly, the expression on her face anything but.
“What are we doing?” I asked following through the door. “And what is that smell?” She waved a hand which I took as an instruction to close the door.
“I received a tip off that Periscope has something rather unique, and Periscope being the the fellow that Periscope is he really should not have such a thing.”
“And the smell?” I pressed. It really was rather pleasant and was making me feel most tender towards Plumduff despite having a fair few decades in me. I wasn’t sure whether he tights were wrinkled or her legs but I suddenly rather liked it. A lot. My head swimming I tugged on her sleeve. “Margaret, you know it makes me want to…”
“Oh dear how very forgetful of me” She said pushing me back with one hand and reaching into her bag with the other. My voice trailed away and my eyes began to close. “Take this.” She said.
She passed me a small yellow tablet which I instinctively popped into my mouth and swallowed. “Looks beautiful” I said, “Just like you.” A moment or two later my clarity of thinking returned.
“Sorry about that” she whispered, beckoning me to come closer until my face was just a few inches from hers. “Periscope’s a Glorian and when they sleep they omit a powerful Pheromone which both arouses and renders any potential enemy harmless. Unless you take countermeasures that is.”
She winked mischievously.
Eager to move quickly along to absolutely anything other than Plumduff’s legs I tugged again at her sleeve. “What does he have?” I asked.
“If my sources are correct then he has something in his possession which will allow him, or more likely a highest bidder, to traverse each of the realities and timelines within the Fracture at will. ” She straightened up and fixed me with a stare that made confirmed what I had already suspected, and that Margaret Plumduff was far more than she appeared.
“That simply will not do” she added. “Now follow me, stay sharp and don’t get yourself killed again.” And with that began to walk slowly down the hall that lead away from the front door. I stayed close behind as she passed another door, peeked inside and moved slowly on. At the end of the hall there were two more doors, the one on the left closed and the one on the right slightly ajar. She approached the door on the left attempting to get a glimpse of what was inside but the room was dark and without pushing inside it was impossible to tell.
Plumduff paused to the side of the door, took a deep breath and pushed inside, and that was precisely when all hell broke loose and I witnessed at least 11 different things , none of which made even the slightest jot of sense. There on an oversized bed was a monstrous scaled creature which I assumed must be Periscope.
It was Humanoid in that it had what were probably 2 arms and 2 legs and something at one end which (I think it was an end) had something that could just about pass for a head with an eye in it.
It was at least 3 metres in length and with my limited understanding of alien physiology had what I assumed was a significant chest and stomach which made it look like a small hillock rising and falling calmly as it slept.
Atop the hillock there appeared to be a number of other something’s, mostly black in colour with bright white eyes just about where you would expect to find eyes. That aside the rest of their form seemed to be optional. One of the creatures seemed to be reaching inside Periscope as he slept.
“Stop them” shouted Plumduff exploding into a run towards them her shoes now clickety clacking with the effect of a speeding freight train.
By the time I had managed a “how” she was already at the bedside. What were now quite obviously three different creatures hissed and scattered as she vaulted up onto the bed and then up onto his chest forcing the creatures to scatter.
My first thought was “Impressive” as she stood atop the creature, her yellow cardigan still buttoned firmly and her bag slung over her arm. My next thought, one of a more pressing nature given that the creatures were now heading directly for me was “Oh bugger.”
“Stop them Armitage” Plumduff shouted as they barrelled towards me, black forms scrambling and eyes blazing. I steadied myself and then, with the discretion I was always assured was the better part of valour, stepped aside and watched them leave the room, head down the hall and out of the apartment.
“What are you doing boy” Plumduff shouted, her hands now on her hips. “You could have had them.”
Whether it was just the effects of what had been a very long day or perhaps the relief at simply not being in the cross hairs of whatever the assailants were I felt suddenly less inclined to the politeness I was brought up to show to one’s elders. Even ones stood atop a heaving scaled alien with the panache of a young Edmund Hilary.
“I would very much like a cup of tea” I said in reply to her admonishments. “Do you think our friend Mr Periscope has any in?”
Before I could check Periscope began to convulse wildly causing Plumduff to slip from her vantage point. She landed on the floor next to me with the grace of a cat, brushed down her dress and straightened her hair.
“Something’s wrong” she said placing a hand on the creatures side. Within moments the convulsions had turned to something more violent and he began to thrash about on the bed wildly. The pointy bit at the far end suddenly raised itself from the bed and the thing that was now most definitely an eye opened briefly as Periscope let out a quite hideous guttural scream.
I placed my hands over my ears until the screaming stopped, and as it did the thrashing slowed until his breathing returned to normal. It then stopped completely.
“They’ve poisoned him” Plumduff screamed reaching into her bag and pulling out a long silver cylinder. Leaping back onto his chest she twisted one end of the device and what I assumed was a needle appeared. She then raised it high above her head and with both hands plunged it deep into his skin.
“Come on Periscope” she said putting her ear to his stomach. “Let’s not let it end like this eh.”
For a while nothing happened and I watched her lying there on his chest until quite suddenly she leapt back down and insisted I stand back.
“This won’t be pleasant” she insisted taking a step back and with that the mass that had previously been Periscope dissolved and collapsed quite instantly, spilling a liquid version of his once scaly self onto the bed, across the floor and onto my only good pair of shoes.
“What the hell” I said attempting to get out of the way of the mess as it flowed across the floor.
Plumduff didn’t say anything but walked over to the bed, climbed up through the mass of ex-periscope and reached and picked something up. Climbing back down she reached into her bag, pulled out a handkerchief and gave the item a wipe. It was about 6 inches long, cylindrical in shape and seemed to be made of a metal or silver.
“A crafty smuggler that Periscope” she said smiling. “Seems we got it after all.”
You’d think I’d have had enough of these by now wouldn’t you.
A young fellow, good looks by the plenty
slept with hundred from eighteen to 20
twice as many to 30
more to 40, so dirty
but now no more, he’s spent and quite empty
I think this is getting out of hand now I really do…
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Saturated Pleasantries’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.
Saturated Pleasantries
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
Catching up to Plumduff I placed a hand on her shoulder and she stopped and turned towards me.
“Armitage, what is it?” She asked.
I explained that I had rather a lot of questions and had a headache, something that in itself seemed rather off given that I was dead.
She looked at me for a while then placed a hand on my arm and smiled.
“Okay” she said, “let’s make it quick.”
“Well where are we for one” I asked.
After a number of attempts to explain the nature of the Fracture, all of which stretched the limits of her patience and the boundaries of my comprehension, she settled on one that placed it as a singularity that spanned both space and time in all directions. She then added that it was in no way subject to any of the immutable laws that governed existence yet at the same time part of those very laws in this place and time only.
“That make sense?” she asked setting off again.
I set off after her again and with her shoes click clacking on the pavements she suggested that the result was easier understood in the context of what I could perceive and to work backwards from that point and it would eventually make sense.
If, using the ring, I was able to perceive a slice of multiple overlapping existences across multiple timelines and universes then that was to be my reality and I ought to simply accept it for what it was and get on with things because fretting about it was no use to anyone.
“It will only give you a headache” she insisted. “Ours is not to ask why Armitage.”
“All just seems rather a lot to take in” I replied.
“Yes I can see that” she replied. “I felt very much the same when I arrived and I will explain more as soon as I can but right now we have somewhere to be.”
It seemed only moments ago that I was wandering a hazy nothing stumbling upon impossible trees and disengaged Henrys yet before you know it I am gainfully employed wandering the intersection of all possible points in space and time.
Or something like that.
“And why can I only see parts of it?” I asked.
“Because that is all the ring permits” she explained rather unhelpfully.
“But why?”
“Well, because that is what the ring does. It shows you the thing you are looking at.” She said it in a way that made me feel like I had asked a stupidly obvious question and I ought to be rather ashamed of myself for doing so.
“We need to cross over” she added.
She placed a hand on my arm to both steady herself and guide me and steered me across the road.
Until now I had paid little attention to anything other than Plumduff’s voice, but as we crossed from one side of the street to the other I was suddenly aware of everything around me.
Huge towering buildings reached up into the sky on each sky, the lower levels adorned with vibrant neon signs and electronic screens. From those I could read it seemed that sex was very much the order of the day with at least half of the premises offering carnal services of one description or another, and when you were done the other half of the establishments would help you satisfy the thirst you’d worked up doing whatever beastly thing took your fancy.
Higher up there were row upon row of cluttered balconies jutting out and overhanging the street and washing was hung out and suspended between the two sides of the road. A small boy high up smiled at me and waved as I looked up.
“Pay attention boy and keep your head about you” Plumduff snapped. “There are worse things than death and I would suggest today not be the day you find that out. Stay close to me an watch your step.”
I hurried to stay close to her, despite her size she trotted along at quite a pace and we were soon across the road.
“And close your mouth boy and stop staring” she added. “it’s rather rude.”
Whilst I had mostly accepted the basic premise of Plumduff’s explaination of multiple realities across all of existence it was not until I noticed the people around me that it really began to hit home.
To my credit I felt that I had accepted the small matters of being dead, the In-between and everything else that had been thrown at me pretty well and with only limited whining, but once again my limits of comprehension were being most severely tested.
Plumduff lead the way through a thickening crown and whilst many of those around us were human in appearance many were most definitely not. Such an array of shapes and creations I had never even imagined. These were the gathered masses from across so many realities, and whilst I am comfortable with the standard idea of tentacled otherworldly types or little green men here were things well beyond those imaginings.
Plumduff pushed her way between a vivid shade of blue and something akin to a Viking who seemed to be engaged in a heated debate and shouted for me to keep up. Apologetically I squeezed between then and then sidled past a tall green creature that consisted predominantly of arms and not a great deal more.
“In here” she beckoned as she slipped through a narrow door between two shop fronts. What appeared to be a vaguely humanoid shaped collection of grey blocks watched me as I did and gave a deep grunt as I passed by.
“Thank you” I said nervously. As different as this place may be there was always room for polite pleasantries.
Passing inside the door closed behind me and I hurried up a short flight of dimly lit stairs behind Plumduff.
“Hurry boy” she said impatiently. “You really must keep up.”
As I caught her up she stopped outside of a plain black door save for a small gold coloured symbol. I assumed it was a room number.
“Is this it?” I asked.
“Indeed it is” she answered pulling out a bunch of keys from a pocket and rummaging through them. “Aah yes, this is the one” she continued holding up a small brass key.
“Shouldn’t we knock?” I asked.
Plumduff grinned. “Oh dear boy, we don’t knock. Periscope will be fast asleep, it would be rude to wake him.”
The look on her face told me that not being rude was the last thing on her mind.
Part 9 is here (when ready)
No not that, a limerick. The picture in the header gives it away really. Let’s do some more ‘Get Well Soon’ ones.
Oh alas you poor dear heard it’s bad
and the pain’s quite intense and you’re sad
still a lesson you learned
when you pee’d and it burned
next time use protection you daft lad
Well I’m still making it up as I go along…
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Popsicle Periscopes.’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.
Popsicle periscopes
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
I as scrambled to make sense of Plumdiff’s words, she was already back on her feet and beckoning me to follow her. Her shoes clicked and clacked on the polished parquet flooring as she lead the way and we headed back out through the door of her office and into the in-between.
“Now Armitage, be a good chap and close the door and do keep up there is lots to do today.” She said.
I stuffed the watch and ring into my pocket, pulled the door closed and hurried after her. She moved deceptively quickly for a woman of her advancing years.
“Where are we going” I asked still holding the wallet.
“There’s someone we need to go see” She replied.
“There is?”
“Yes, we need to go find Periscope. He should be somewhere over down that way” she said pointing to precisely nowhere at all.
“I don’t see anything?” I said confused.
“The ring” she replied, not stopping. “Put on the ring.”
I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out the ring. I rolled it between my fingers and noticed a fine inscription ran around the outside carved deep into the silver in an unknown language and the inside showed faded traces of an inscription long worn away.
“Put it on Boy” Plumduff insisted. “And do keep up.”
Still walking I slipped it slowly onto my finger and promptly tripped over the kerb falling face first onto the floor.
“Oh and watch the kerb” She said wryly, a note of laughter in her voice.
Looking up from where I lay everything before me was suddenly changed. Judging by the tan tights and black shoes Plumduff had now stopped and was waiting but where previously there had been only the fog of the In-Between there a bustling city now lay before me.
I slowly got to my feet taking in the sights and sounds before me. A long street stretched into the distance and high on either side there towered a mish mash of different buildings. There was an explosion of colour and neon flashed and blinked wherever I looked. High above clouds drifted in a blue sky and there was movement and noise everywhere.
“It only works wherever you look” Plumduff said quite matter of fact and I quite quickly realised what she meant.
To the edges of what I could see the grey nothingness of the In-between returned and the city blended away into nothing. Wherever I looked the city appeared and as I turned to looked elsewhere it was gone from sight.
“You only see what you’re looking for and if you’re not looking for it you don’t need to see it“ Plumduff continued, her face a broad smile. “You’ll get used to it Armitage.”
“I see” I said.
Plumduff chuckled.
“Now let’s head over to Century Plaza” she said heading off purposefully once more. “That’s where we’ll find him.”
I am not great at gift buying, a fact to which my wife will surely attest. She, on the other hand, always absolutely nails it which seems to further accentuate my inabilities. And whilst I have yet to plunge to the levels of service station flowers, socket sets or head torches I have a record of missing the mark on birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas’.
It is not a recent thing though. Only recently my mother reminded me of the time that I was given money by my dad to buy her something nice for Christmas. The story goes that I spend the majority of the money of books or comics and with what I had leftover bought her a lime green shower curtain.
Apparently she feigned some sort of appreciation as any good mother will do but thirty five years later she still recalls the event and retells the story without a great deal of mirth. She is just probably worried about what level of support she will get in her golden years from a child so wholly selfish and beastly.
When it comes to Mrs Michael, I admit that too often in the past have I resorted to the old staples of books, CD’s, jewellery etc so two years ago I figured I would try to make up for it and buy her something both practical, fabulous and unique at the same time.
Mindful of how regularly I am still regularly reminded of the time I bought her a number of vegetarian cook books I headed to Kick Starter to find her something no one else would have. For those not familiar Kick Starter is all about investing in the ideas of people and helping them bring something to market.
So after some browsing and thorough investigations I invested in YECUP, a picture of which you can see below. Given how much she enjoys a cup of tea, and how much of the winter she spends standing on the touch line of a rugby pitch in winter I figured it would be perfect.
So what is it I hear you ask? Well, the Yecup is a thermos cup that had a built in heating and cooling element so can warm or cool your beverage. How amazing is that! No? Yeah you see this is where it all started to go wrong because I said it was and she seemed wholly underwhelmed. It might have been because I insisted she needed to be careful to not get it wet because of the built in electrics and we live in the third wettest part of the UK. Maybe.
All hope wasn’t lost though and I informed her that not only would it keep here warm drinks warm it also had a port to enable her to charge her phone. She asked whether it needed a cable to do that and I explained yes of course. The idea of sheltering her mug from the rain whilst plugging it into her phone was, I admit, not a great selling point. Neither was the fact that it can be charged wirelessly which I thought was quite fabulous.
(You know, the more I write about this the more I realise just how shit I am at gifts.)
Buy now my hopes that there will be fabulous grateful birthday sex is fast waning so I decide to play my last card in the hope of recovering the situation but it turns out that she was less enamoured than I had expected by the idea of it also having an App that could be installed on her phone to allow her to control the temperature or change the colour of the build in LED lights.
Oh, I forgot but there was also the small matter of the item not actually being available due to delays in China so it arrived over a year late in the middle of the summer. Also turns out it is absolutely massive and quite thin so has a rather phallic feel to it. No one wants to be know as that woman who always looks like she’s eagerly guzzling latte from a big silver cock.
You know, thinking about it, this might be why, no matter how early I think about gifts for whichever special occasion it is, she always seems to have just ordered something from me and it’s always just what she wanted.
Still, I absolutely love it and I got a nice cup out of it in the end so happy days 😉
Well I’m still making it up as I go along…
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Crystal clear consolations.’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.
Crystal clear consolations
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Stepping through the doorway I found myself in an office. Seeing the confusion on my face Plumduff beckoned me to take a seat in a stout red leather wing-backed chair.
“Now now boy” she began. “Less of the gormless expressions if you will, we have things to do and sitting there with your mouth open looking for explanations really will get us nowhere. There will be time for that later.”
We were in a dimly lit office, tall dark bookcases covered the walls and row upon row of books lined the shelves. In front of me Plumduff sat behind a broad mahogany desk, a small pile of papers and a pen and ink on one side of it and on the other another pile of books. Behind her was a wide fireplace where glowing embers crackled and fizzed and above the mantle was a most impressive oil painting of an equally impressive fellow standing legs akimbo and hands on hips against the backdrop of a raging volcano and knee deep in daffodils.
Plumduff noticed me staring at it.
“That’s Charles Crompton” she said, smiling and turning around to look at it herself. “He established this fine institution four hundred and eighty years ago. Wonderful fellow, frightfully handsome and all being well you will get to meet him at some point some when.”
Plumduff span back around, pulled out a draw and began to rummage in the desk. “Now, where is it?” She said. “It’s here somewhere.”
Her wispy white hair eventually popped up from behind the desk and she placed a small package in front of me. “There you go” she said pushing it across the desk towards me. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied somewhat haphazardly with string.
“I Just…” I tried to speak but Plunduff was having none of it.
“Please, just open it” she said smiling. “Things will make far more sense once you do.”
As small and frail as she might appear, Margaret Plumduff had the air of a woman with whom you did not trifle. She folded her hands in her lap and watched as obediently I unwrapped the package in my lap. Peeling back the string and brown paper it revealed what looked like a small black wallet, an engraved silver ring and a watch.
“Open the wallet” she pressed excitedly.
The leather was soft between my fingers, worn and supple and opening it up revealed a gold coloured badge about the size of a credit card.
“Read it out” she insisted.
I pulled the card from the wallet. It was surprisingly heavy.
“Badge 1979. Office of Entropy Agent authorised to carry out all and any duties pertaining to the orderly maintainence of Area 367.”
I slid the card back inside the wallet and looked up, Plumduff clapped her hands excitedly.
“You’re my new partner Armitage, welcome to the Fracture.”
Happy Tuesday!
A Fat fellow of girth quite unique
out of breath when he walked, couldn’t speak
So he cut down on Lard
trained incredibly hard
Fell down dead, heart attack, in first week.
What? You thought it would have a happy ending? Ha!
Part 5 in my ongoing efforts to try string together random prompts into a story
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘morphing into magma.’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.
“He wont get to it” the voice continued. “just let him go”
I spun around and was faced with a kind faced old woman wearing a flower print dress, yellow cardigan and a broad welcoming smile.
“Margaret Plumduff” she said confidently thrusting out a hand. Her grip was far firmer than I had anticipated.
“Armitage” I replied rather timidly.
“Indeed you are my boy, Indeed you are” she said still shaking my hand rigorously. “I’ve been waiting for you, they said I’d find you out by the tree.”
“They did?” I replied.
“Oh yes, yes” she continued, eventually releasing my hand at last and flashing me a broad toothy smile. She was no more than 5 feet tall with a face full of character and short soft white hair. She wore tan nylon stockings and black patent leather shoes and a black handbag hung over her left arm rounding off her outfit.
“Are you sure about him?” I asked pointing back towards where Henry continued to wander towards the tree in the distance.
“Oh yes, don’t you mind yourself with him” Margaret insisted. “The tree takes care of his type.“
My face obviously gave away that I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.
“Some are sent to serve the greater needs of the in-between.” She said still smiling. “She will feed on him and put him out of his miserable existence. Once she has absorbed him he will be far more comfortable.”
Again I could tell that my face gave away my shock at the idea.
“He was an accountant, beastly type who fiddled the books and had a quite awful habbit of interrupting people. No real redeeming qualities and he won’t feel a thing I assure you.”
By now I obviously looked appalled or terrified, I am unsure which, but she obviously felt the need to put me at ease.
“I wouldn’t worry dear, you’re perfectly safe” she insisted. “Now we really must get going we have places to be.”
“We do?”
“Oh yes, yes” she replied enthusiastically. “There are so many things to see and you must start your training straight away.”
I suspect at this point she was growing weary of the array of confused looks I was continuing to sport.
“Please, just follow me” she said, and out of nothing a door appeared. It was in no way a special door, unless of course you would count it appearing out of nowhere as special, but that aside it was simply a brown wooden door with a matching gold letterbox, handle and brass lion head knocker. “Come come, let’s be going.” She said and with that she turned the handle, pushed the door open and stepped through.
“Hello” was the first thing Henry said to me which, as greetings go, was perfectly acceptable.
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Binging time.’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.
“Hello” was the first thing Henry said to me which, as greetings go, was perfectly acceptable.
Perhaps it was his lack of enthusiasm that threw me but the best I could muster in response was a rather flacid “Hi”.
Henry blinked and did not reply, simply shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to another and fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. I hadn’t considered clothing previously, and it prompted me to wonder whether I had any on and, looking down, discovered that I was in fact wearing a most unpleasant pair of brown corduroys and a plain white shirt. A pair of light brown moccasins and white socks rounded off the ensemble which made me look very much like my year 9 science teacher, Mr Wood.
Moments passed and so we stood staring at one another saying nothing. It could have been a few seconds though it may also have been a number of weeks. Time is a tricky thing here.
Feeling compelled to make an impression, he was after all the only other person I had met since arriving, I attempted to muster something witty or interesting to say but everything escaped me and I eventually mumbled a rather awkward “so are you new here?”
Henry nodded.
“You’re the first person I’ve seen since I arrived” I added.
Henry stared straight through me as if fixed upon something in the distance. I tried to resist turning around to look and see what he was looking at but could not. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing to be seen other than the feint silhouette of the tree far in the distance.
“The tree?” I asked.
Henry nodded.
“Just appeared” I replied.
Henry leaned to the side, peering over my shoulder, and then scratching his head walked past me without so much as a please and thank you in the direction of the tree.
I turned to watch him go and was about to follow him when another voice spoke.
“Let him go, he’s going the wrong way anyway.”
“. As I wander there are colours and flashes of things that I know I recognise and that seem so familiar but yet I struggle to name. “
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Liquid Love.’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.
Of late, and I say that with a degree of caution because time does not seem to hold any significance here, I am finding that the longing consumes me less and less and a clarity seems to be returning to my thinking.
Now that is not to say I know what is going on, because I do not, but I have been able to explore this curious existence and am finding that it is not as grey and empty as I once thought. A world of misty nothing seems to be revealing itself to me piece by piece, and just today I saw a tree. I don’t know what type of tree it was, perhaps a beech or a birch – I tend to get them mixed up – but there it was doing precisely nothing just as you would expect from a tree.
It’s gnarled trunk rose above me where sprawling branches were capped with a thick covering of leaves, dappled sunlight flooding through in golden rays from a sunless sky. Below my feet her roots stretched deep dow into nothing. There was a also a narrow river, a glittering ribbon of blue and silver meandering slowly through the nothing and into which the tree had dipped a number of her roots. As she drank I could see the waters glowing as it pulsed and coursed through her limbs.
Beyond the things I know and recognise there are also glimpses and echoes of a world just beyond my grasp, perhaps the one I left or somewhere else, but they are there and at times so very close. Feint voices call out and have me spinning as if recognising the comforting hello of an old friend. As I wander there are colours and flashes of things that I know I recognise and that seem so familiar but yet I struggle to name.
And then, as I stood beneath the cool canopy dipping my toes in the trickling water I knew that I was no longer alone.
“…The worst thing about dying is not the pain, that passes pretty quickly,”
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Senseless Sacrifices.’
The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.
The worst thing about dying is not the pain, that passes pretty quickly, it’s actually the immense sense of loss you feel afterwards that really gets to you. Once you realise that there is nowhere left to go, which is bad enough in itself because a lack of destination is something I find wholly unsettling, there is the overwhelming realisation that pretty much everything else is gone.
Beyond the obvious and rather painful longing for the people you have left behind you also find yourself bombarded by a sadness at the loss of things of a far more mundane nature. Since shuffling off of the mortal coil I have spent entire afternoons pining for my old bicycle, the red one that I should have ridden more but didn’t because it gave me the most terrible chafing. Whole mornings have been spent dwelling upon missed opportunities to listen to the radio late at night when the signal of far-away stations seemed stronger and I was able to scroll through the bands picking up such strange foreign voices.
So many things taken for granted now seem so precious and a lifetime of missed opportunities weighs heavy on those of us trapped in this nothing of an existence and not a moment passes when I ask myself was what I did worth it…
Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. The first was titled ‘The Inbetween’ so thats the name of the story. Each prompt is only meant to take a few minutes. Let’s see how it goes.
I’m not sure what I am anymore. I know I’m dead, I remember that all too well, but it was hardly the significant finale I was expecting.
There were no pearly gates or lights to head towards, and neither was there fire nor brimstone nor the anguished gnashing of teeth – something Mrs Henderson next door would most certainly be disappointed about given her insistence that one day my wicked ways would most certainly be repaid in true Old Testament fashion.
The way she always looked at me when she said it I’m pretty sure she meant buggery, she just had that look of a woman who feared buggery above all things. Her husband was a big man, so that may have explained it.
So alas Mrs Henderson I am afraid there is a distinct lack of buggery wherever it is that I am, though there are rather a lot of us here in-between who are somewhat in need of an answer as to just what is going on.
You know you want it.
Handsome jeweller quite fond of the girls
Lovely hair, rather thick full of curls
He would tempt and seduce
Be they proper or loose
Give them necklaces, often of pearls
Why not eh…
A rugby fan Jennifer smalls
For big men in tight shorts climbed the walls
And she couldn’t resist
The intense violent hits
And the wonderfully misshapen balls
Afterwards 