Dark, threatening water swirling far below drifted him back to her twenty-five years before.  Before famine, armistice, bomb dropping, their world was tense but not like now.  Now, no one trusts neighbours, friends or nation.    She was breathtaking.  He would stand and stare, trying to stop his lower jaw from flopping open.  But the mind, the steel trap, now that was the big attractor.  Without that her face was mere dressing.   Had she forgotten their pledge, lost love-inte

“Movement.  T-men, squirters, could be locals.  Get Terp to ping ‘em.” “They’re coming around.”   Creeping a few inches, looking through the infra-red scope.  Two thermals moving behind the low cement wall heading for the well.   The first-time-out POG kneels, blasting at the wall end.    Buckets fly.    Diving out, covering the distance in seconds.    Two small, mangled bodies in scarves lay still.   “How the fuck could we tell.” shouts POG hysterically.   Reaching down slow

The westerly wind winds down the valley so heavily that people become winded. It is hard to tell if it is a planetary or a primary wind, like a trade or westerly or even polar easterly. Maybe a periodic or secondary wind like a monsoon, a land or sea breeze. It could even be a mountain or valley breeze. Local winds can include a Chinook, Bora or Mistral. But, it seems, after I played my woodwind I ate a cabbage, bean and curried egg meal and it has given me tremendous gaseous

Slowly. Very, very slowly.  Muscles imperceptibly moving. Eyes still, forward, focussed, rivetted, locked on. Mottled light on mottled fur.  Head still, level, unflinching. Muscles glide forward.  Mouth twitches, chattering silently. Eyes stay locked.  Leaves and branches silently push apart. Mottled shadow glides slowwwwwwly forward, soundless.  Holding, still, moving, holding.  Gliding. Holding. Waiting. Millimetre moving, gliding, holding. Eyes unblinking. Prey stops, blin

“Hiya, I’m Miles.  6’2”, beer-bellied, broad with full Ned-Kelly beard.  I have a Sinead hairstyle (vale Sinead), lots of wigs but love my Dolly and Cher the best.  Dusky Rose and Magenta are my fav nail colours, always one Crypt Black.  Lotsa frocks, stylish suits, evening wear of course, red pumps and my C-F-M-Boots, fishys, sheers, with nice tasteful jewellery, accoutrements and rings.  But sometimes, just trackies, plaids and Uggs.  Don’t like much fluff and flounces.  I’

He sat, a stool staring out across the wide green valley.  Mountains each side creating a V of green amidst almost vertical slopes of rock.  Sheer faces standing over the valley succumbing its existence.  He wandered what had happened in the green Shangrila over its eons?  So many tragedies and glories had been fought for and die here, now part of the soil, enriching the green so bright in the sun it almost hurt his eyes.   He drifted back into memories of past.  The battles

Muffling dawn stirs, settles a cold mist and bows the soft brome.  The village bodach wheezingly, struggles onto one elbow, shakingly dropping back to his fliuch pillowcase and damp sheets.    Breathing is now like sucking mead through rough linen damask.  Eyes demented red and bulging.  Hands shaking ‘ta crith air’ as his heart beats the rattle of a demonic bodhran.   His bleary eyes search and cry out for his sweet Roisen but she left with Manannan mac Lir a long time afore

Red heat blisters skin unless wrapped in heavy woollen greatcoats, shields, and gloves.  Goggles and ear muffs unable to stop pain.   Giant brick-lined iron ladles slop molten steel across the foundry.  Massive gloves and coats, aprons, thick face shields struggle.   Red-glowing iron bars snake through ramming, compressing, shuddering mill-blocks squeezing thinner and longer.  Standing on guides, men push flaming bars through the next guide, furnace, mill-block.   Raw coal at

Heat and flames burning bushy eyebrows, aromatic smoke wafting, Nandolnd, the crumpled gnome, moves the long-handled broadtruele inside his 400-year-old cob oven to allow his loaves equal touching of the muffled flames.    “Glonadir, my son, it’s our family honour to create the hleifr for our village.”   He slides the pole in practiced thrusts, a blade of grace, to keep the bread moving inside the hearth.  With gnarled knuckles glistening, the best loaf flings from the oven m

Atmospheric water vapour, frozen into ice crystals, falling in light, white flakes piling up at the front door.  A mass of flickering white spots streaming across the television.   John Snow misleading everyone with elaborate and insincere words whilst eating a dish of vanilla snow and spraying the room with frozen gas of carbon dioxide.    He pulls another line of cocaine from the glass table, sucks on an advocaat, lemonade and ice snowball cocktail and shakes his snow-globe

I don’t know what and why people do things?  They just burst out with some rigmarole, some pansy-arsed drivel and expect people to believe what they say no matter how stupidly inaccurate it may be.  Well, it must be inaccurate if I don’t agree with it.  It must be codswallop if it doesn’t balance with every little thing I propose.  Why else would God and the laws of nature ever give me these absolutely wonderful thoughts, if they weren’t perfectly true and correct?  Nature ju

With a deafening roar and violent spinning wind the 60-meter-wide blinding disc touches down in the football car park.   Thousands of terrified sports fans scream, stare, gasp.  A 6-meter decapod slowly descends as if floating.  Its green slime drips on crushed cars, dissolving them.  A beam of red laser sheers off the top half of the grandstand.   The 15-meter-high lone sign flashes off and on. “Guest Car Park”.   The creature goes completely silent, as if thinking, processi

…..that’s what my cat drinks - a feline milk - she loves it!! I bought four x three packs just this morning. Woolies, very hard to get, like toilet paper, you have to stock up when found.

This seat is so uncomfortable. My back hurts and my bony arse is never comfortable for even short periods, let along extended. And loud, they’re very loud! I know I’m semi-deaf but not from that bellow. ‘Sit up keep your back straight.’ I think to myself. ‘No, stop fidgeting, it disturbs the other people. This bloke, if he takes my armrest again, I’ll fart and smell the bugger out. Mind you with this din, no-one will hear but I think it will even overpower smell. Think o

I make a habit of following the same consistent set of principles and social parameters over the years.  I think I have for two, maybe three, dozen years so far and am probably not going to change any time before the Big Nothingness. Like a stack of same-coloured quoits, or traffic-controlling orange witch’s hats all stacked up.  All looking the same   All consistent.  I like dogs and cats, always have and always will have, at least, one in my family. But, the most remarkable

I dream of human evolution.  We can all see, feel and know human evolution within our own lifetimes. We are judged not by our skin nor gender nor status but by the sincerity of our efforts. Co-operation and mutual encouragement are taught and expected by and through all societies. Peaceful problem solving.  Through discussion, all problems can be solved or nullified. Equity in dignity and respect for every life form, nothing is considered worthless nor inferior. No dogma nor

Ooooh, it’s dark in here and warm - daylight -  SPLAT Nice n smelly. - lift up lid  - SPRAYYYY Maybe just across there, no one will see me  - WACK WACK WACK Yummmm, that tastes nice n greasy  -  FLICK n THONGGGG Cat food! Nice n fresh  -  massive beast  -  CHASE CRUNCH CHEWCHEW It’s like the UN, the Olympics: Germans, Australians, Americans, Orientals, Smokey Browns and even Brown Bandeds – ALLLLL living in your kitchen EVERY Summer   WACKETTY WAKETTY WACKWACKWACK ALL SUMMER

To lose a precious print!  Can, can we find it?  Frantically racing around Montmartre, all laneways, side-streets and a massive la trek.  We run back and forth when legs are not young and shoes are not trekkers.  To lose my Toulouse means we have to la trek for Lautrec.  I misplaced my print in one the le cafes or le bars, as we sipped strong coffee and weak beer, just to experience bohemian culture.  We stand out like elephants in tuxedos on a crowded iceshelf of fairy pengu

Raise eyes to the future, the flapping, torn cloth.  Lower eyes to the horror of young men being torn apart, strafed along the beach, bloodied sand spitting along bodies of wretched sons, into the hearts of crying mothers, choking fathers. Raise sounds of gagging, gurgling splutters, last gasps thudding onto squelching red sand.  Torn tunics and hearts dragging over barbwire, then spluttering in death. Raise scents of blood, guts, gore and the stench of piss and shit.  Finger

‘Yeah, I like tents.  I used to travel with my family, as a kid, up and down the NSW coast.  Even up to 10 years ago a friend and I would go camping.  Sometimes we would be naughty enough to venture as far inland as Tamworth.’   ‘Well, Kathmandu has a sale on.  Go buy one.’   ‘Triffic, a nice big one with bedroom and eating areas, maybe a couple of outside awnings.’   It’s now the 20s, we can go travel for a couple of days at a time.  Let’s see, that’s a good stove and the la