Monday, September 26

I want to tell them that it's a shame I care whether they reply or not. Herman collects on the couch, flickering business news on loop after endless loop in the hope that some of that money might osmose into his skull. Sitting in the corner I sew myself up with slippery black thread and try to ignore him. It's hard; monologues keep spurting out of his face. Eventually his privileged little head droops back and starts snorting. I stitch to the percussion of his nostrils, and briefly contemplate attaching him to the sofa, before I realise what a horrendous mistake that would be. I sew his eyelids together instead.

Tuesday, September 20

They couch at their desks, enveloped in mustiness, formica and strip lighting. Their pallid faces glow in the pallid blue light thrown from their pallid computer screens. Their bellies churn and mash a slurry of factory food. Expressionless, they stare with droopy eyelids at nothing at all. Occasionally they rouse themselves from stupor to waddle to another room to accidentally annoy someone. They are twee in their atrophy. They are saving the world. One coffee at a time.

things from another time...

April 2004  
May 2004  
June 2004  
July 2004  
August 2004  
September 2004  
November 2004  
December 2004  
January 2005  
February 2005  
March 2005  
April 2005  
May 2005  
June 2005  
August 2005  
September 2005  


other stuff by me

Unfinished Story Number One
Unfinished Story Number Two


other, superior people

Magnetic Kid Liv
The Man Who Fell Asleep
Ass Wide Open


© 2004 Someone who is not you, unfortunately. Sorry. No animals were harmed in the making of this website, except Germaine Greer