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The following isn't an about me section. I usually just post in here any short stories I've been working on at work so that I can get them from my home computer.


How wet does your leg have to get before you realise you’re p ing into the wind?

We have our health, we have our family, we have our friends and possessions. Our thoughts, feelings and memories belong to us and we both cherish and detest them in equal measure. We have so much in our lives, so much that we take for granted and assume will always be with us – but they’re not. Age obliterates everything we once held dear. Live long enough and you’ll watch your family and friends die, one by one they leave you to your lonely solitude. Our health deteriates and I’m not just talking about croaky old men in rocking chairs either, hit forty and the downhill trajectory kicks in faster than (comedic simili). Our possessions diminish and worst of all our mind fails us



Ellie pulls her bright red suitcase behind her as she enters the Manises Airport looking around for her father. She sees a hand held up, towering above the majority of the crowd – it’s Shane.

“You look dreadful,” observes Shane as Ellie approaches.

“Gee thanks!”

“I’m serious. What state did you get into last night?”

“I’m fine Dad. I had a good time and have a bit of a hangover, no big deal.”

Shane’s arms are crossed and the sense of disapproval is plastered all over his face. He looks like a sulking teenager who’s just had his xbox confiscated.

“She’s a bad influence,” states Shane eventually.

“Andi?”

“Who else? She’s leading you astray.”

“Astray? I drank a little, danced, had some fun. Since when was that a crime?”

“I just want you to be careful that’s all, don’t end up like Andi Snow.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Why would any girl not want to be like Andi? She’s fun, she’s beautiful, she’s successful.”

“She’s a hedonist.”

“Oh for God’s sake. Ok Mother Theresa shall I say a few hail Mary’s and self flagellate a little.”

“Don’t be facetious Ellie,”

“I’ll stop being facetious if you stop being a judgemental, pompous old fuddy duddy.”

Shane is about to react in anger but surprisingly manages to compose himself.

“Look Ellie. I’m just trying to look out for you, make sure you’re safe.”

“I’m fine Dad. I’m not a kid and neither is Andi for that matter.

“So you didn’t do anything silly.”

“No Dad, we just had a fun night out.”

Shane sighs, “I still don’t approve. What’s wrong with the compound, you can have all the fun you want there.”

“Seriously? With who?”





Ellie breaks first, ending the tense silence.

“So who are you fighting next?”

“Kintaru.”

“Who? I thought I met everyone last night but don’t remember any Asian guys.”

“He’s not Asian. Like most Anarchy events he didn’t show up, he never shows up. It’s not surprising really, he’s stuck in the past so it’s little wonder he isn’t focussed enough on the present. He’s living approximately ten years ago when Genesis was still relevant.”

“He was in Genesis?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think he can introduce me to Phil Collins?”

“No I don’t think he can introduce you to Phil Collins! He was in the wrestling federation Genesis and seems to think he still is. He spent years obsessing over a washed up has been Frank Samson, so much so he was practically driven mad. More recently he seems to have diverted his attention to D for reasons that I presume are because he’s the only other remaining remnant of the past he is so fond of. Well he’d better not get in my, D is mine to deal with.”

“Jeez Dad, lighten up. It’s a wrestling match, you’ll get your opportunity to face D and Kintaru can have his chance another week, what’s the big deal.”

“D is a big deal Ellie. He isn’t just some average Joe wrestler with ambitions to take my title away. He’s capable of far more than that – the man’s a killer!”

“Yoga boy, a killer? Pull the other one.”

“Yoga boy, why do you call him that?”

“I met him, last night at the arena. He was all twisted up like a pretzel, not half as twisted up as his girlfriend’s knickers when she saw me and Andi talking to him though. That b h needs to seriously lighten up!”

“YOU MET D!” Exclaims Shane in alarm.





Prologue
Pete Asquith is beginning to regain consciousness. He doesn’t know what happened. One minute he was telling a private investigator to get lost, the next he is here. Not that Pete knows it but Xxx xxxx, working on behalf of Shane Mitchell, had sent him to dreamland with the help of a plentiful dose of chloroform. Pete thinks he’s gone blind for a moment such is the depth of the darkness he finds himself in. It isn’t just dark, it’s pitch black, he can’t see his own hand as he holds it before his eyes. On his back he can feel the hard wood on which he lays and when he feels to either side of himself he feels more wood, thick solid wood. His reaches up to discover more wood. Reaching into his jacket pocket he removes a lighter that he flicks on finally casting a little light onto the scene. It’s with unimaginable terror that he realises his predicament – he’s in a coffin.


Epilogue
Pete Asquith’s breathing is heavy and his heart races in his chest. He’s been trapped in this coffin for hours, actually it may just be minutes but it certainly seems like hours from Pete’s perspective. He’s kicked and beaten the coffin walls until his feet and fists are sore. He’s been through at least three cycles of panic attack