I am under siege. It’s late, a fierce Wyoming wind is rattling the aluminum walls of my trailer and during lulls I’m sure I can hear footsteps scrunching outside. Fools. This ain't my first rodeo. Just this evening I flipped on the tube and there, like some hideous golem from my past, was Exhibit A – leering at me from his life of luxury. Seems my erstwhile nemesis is going to be the 1993 half-time act at the Superbowl and will no doubt be dazzling a record audience with his incredible, gravity-defying dance moves. Well, I was never dazzled. Far from it. I was angry, bitter, but never dazzled. Illusion Engineers tend not to be.
Conflict. I, Mr Black, have a key. Mr White has a key. I want his key and he wants mine. Neither of us is prepared to give the other what they want.
These are not our real names. They were given to us on the envelopes that contained the keys, to replace whatever names we had before, names we have forgotten, though we have been here barely eight weeks.
I glance down at the chess set in front of me. I am being beaten once again, but I don’t want Mr White to know that I know that. I look up, and briefly meet his impassive gaze. “You’re up to something.” I mutter, and tentatively move my bishop onto the one square that my king could have escaped to, six moves hence. “There.”
The mind is an intellectual pit, saith the philosopher, and as few as are those who choose to fill it, fewer indeed are the number who succeed in so doing. The Reverend Francis Masser preferred a slow silence to a fast rushing, a noise, and so he sat in his library. All was quiet there. All was still. The books neither moved nor coughed – and nobody called for Mr Masser to show them a miracle or attend to the sick or the dying.
I'm sitting out on the terrace, or decking, or whatever home makeover shows call planks these days, staring through ashy cloud at the brightening Hampstead stars. Smoke from Spike's scrubbed-out cigarette drifts up from the table, tangy and sour. I remember kissing him in the downstairs cloakroom before dinner; the flavour of Colgate and tobacco weirdly mingled on his tongue. I lick my lips.
Molly used to live in a dream bungalow, mock-tudor, across the road from a quality butcher’s. Seems like a lifetime ago, and she can’t get meat half so good now. ‘The cuts they did then – beautiful, melt-in-the-mouth.’ She turns to her George on the settee. ‘Remember?’
He'd booked them on a cruise to the Tannhäuser Gate, first-class, all-inclusive, for their anniversary, even though he knew perfectly well that she'd have preferred the Moon. She couldn't decide whether it was a romantic gesture or a selfishly practical one. Either way, he'd effectively forestalled any objection by presenting the trip as a fait accompli; a gift.
This month, we have chosen six fabulous tales of light and dark for our Black & White night, boasting space tourists, deceitful playwrights, suspicious priests, grieving receptionists, a deadly game of chess and the late, great Michael Jackson - so keep Tuesday 11th August free to find out what they're all about ...
Selected Stories:
1) Black Holes, White Dwarfs by Sam Carter, read by Paul Clarke 2) Pay Peanuts, Get Monkeys by Magnus Nelson *NEW AUTHOR* read by Carrie Cohen 3) Something Exotic by C. T. Kingston *NEW AUTHOR* read by Sabina Cameron 4) Plain as Print by PJ Carnehan, read by Stephen Butterton 5) Stalemate by Liam Hogan, read by Freddie Machin 6) Michael Jackson Stole My Career by Anthony Malone, read by Ben Crystal
And finally, the submission deadline for our next event, Decline & Fall
(Tuesday 8th September) is approaching fast - get your 800-2500 word
(2000 preferred upper limit) stories of failure, loss and unhappy
endings to us by this Friday 7th August to be in with a chance!
Journalist Catriona Troth came along to our Twist & Turn night, reviewed it and interviewed Katy, Liam, Cliff and author/actor Carrie. See what she said in her article for WordsWithJam here.
BUY OUR AUTHORS' NEW BOOKS!
Longtime contributors Niall Boyce, Jonathan Pinnock & Richard Smyth all have books out which you'd be well advised to buy, then read, then buy for others. All genres are catered for, from novels (Niall's Veronica Britton) and short stories (Jonathan's Dot Dash) to nonfiction (Richard's Bumfodder)
KATY LIAR'S DEBUT NOVEL
Liar Katy Darby's debut novel, a Victorian drama called The Unpierced Heart (previously titled The Whores' Asylum) is now out in Penguin paperback. It's had nice reviews in The Independent on Sunday, Sunday Times & Metro (4*).
OUR INTERVIEW WITH ANNEXE MAG!
They came, they saw, they asked us a bunch of interesting questions. Interview by Nick of Annexe Magazine with Katy of LL: here
