“Woger Woger. Or is it Weganold? – We had got to stop meeting like this.” “Well, maybe you can lend me your ears.” “Ears, I’ve got a whole bag full of ears.” “How about a Bwyan, do we have a Bwyan?” “Nope only Casscisuses, Juliuses and July’s a few Maximuses, a small Minus, and a Biggest Dickess.” “That’ll never do – we need a Woger.” “How about an Over n’Out, he’s a foreigner, but surely he’ll do?” “Nope we can’t have agreement to the Senate if we don’t have a Roger. All in

The view moves and sways. Trying to capture a feel, a view, a mood. Nothing coming, just staring. Staring at his fingers.  The gnarled scars of decades.  Cuts, scrapes, scares; all time imprints.   That blade cut just above the thumb, leaving a white scar, a semicircle in the demi-layer.           The rain and wind beat at his face, darkness all around. Torch under the chin trying to see the broken wire. Production was down.  $1000s per minute, slipping away.  Every minute co

CRASH – shattering glass. “Yahooooo” with gleeful laughter – from the street.  Is this a dream? Rushing to the bedroom door, smelling smoke. I open and stumble into the hallway of smoke billowing up the high ceiling, the walls are a low orange glow.  To my left, there is fire under the back door.  It licks at the floor gap, five fingers of flame trying to grab a hold.  “Water – Fuck – Water”.  I rush to the bathroom, upend the bin and jam it under the bath taps.  Half full, I