Iris tried to keep her breathing under control as she led under the bed, as flat to the floor as she could possibly be. She concentrated on trying to breathe as slowly as possible in direct opposition to the rapid runaway palpitations of her heart. Her one hand was across her mouth, in case her voice betrayed her and cried out involuntary, while her other hand gripped tightly to the handle of a sturdy hunting knife. Her father had given her the knife and she always kept it on her, usually attached to her belt, when he had to leave her in the house alone to go out food salvaging. She wished he was home with her now, but panicked at the thought of him arriving back any moment and putting himself in danger. The sound of a glass breaking downstairs caused Iris to refocus on her breathing.
Luckily she’d been upstairs when the intruders broke in. Judging from the noise and voices Iris thought there must be at least four down there. Hiding under the bed was her first instinct but now she was thinking that maybe trying to climb out the window and run away would be a better idea. Although she didn’t know where to run to. Surrounded by only fields and woodland there were no neighbours or other buildings to hideout in. The Johnson’s barn was the nearest but that had been burnt down in the cleansing. If she ran her father wouldn’t know where to find her. That thought was more terrifying than sharing her house with the intruders.
Raucous laughter echoed up the stairs and under the gap between the bedroom door and the floorboards. The laughter continued downstairs while footsteps rose up the stairs. Iris’s heart pumped faster and the urge to urinate almost took over her. The heavy footsteps slowly got louder as they approached the bedroom door. The shadow of an intruder crept under the door. Iris’s hand holding the knife was trembling. The door slowly swung open and Iris could see a pair of black leather boots, scuffed and muddy. The boots didn’t enter the bedroom but moved away down the hall. The sound of urinating in the bathroom was a slight relief to Iris. The intruder would go back downstairs and hopefully they would take what they wanted and leave before her father came home.
The heavy footsteps came back across the hallway. They didn’t go back down the stairs. They paused at her bedroom door again. And entered. The boots steadily crossed the room with Iris’s eyes following them unblinkingly. She listened to drawers opening and watched as items dropped to the floor, her notebook, her bra. A grubby hand with chewed down nails scooped down and picked up the bra. The boots were only a few feet away from her face. She realised she was holding her breath. The boots didn’t move. Time seemed stuck like a stagnant pond. Then with a sudden shifting of the boots, that caused Iris to exhale with force, the intruder was on his knees and looking directly at her with depraved grimace.
‘Hello little whore’.
Megan’s Room
Published January 15, 2015 by naomirettigMegan lay in the bed, covered with a thin off-white sheet and a blue scratchy blanket so threadbare it was almost a trade description offence to call it a blanket. It was quite cold and the flimsy hospital gown didn’t offer much warmth either. If she had a bit more meat on her bones she wouldn’t feel the cold as much but advancing years had dissolved the fat and muscle from her.
She pressed her buzzer by the side of the bed to ask a nurse for another blanket, they wouldn’t rush to her, she could hear them talking inanely at the end of the ward about a holiday last year or the year before. The pinging of the fluorescent light flickering above Megan’s bed was temporarily drowned out by the sound of the patient on her left, Mrs Brown, chewing sloppily open-mouthed on whatever inappropriate food her family had dropped off half an hour ago just as visiting time was ending. Mrs Brown was diabetic yet her family kept feeding her chocolates and sweets. Mrs Brown never talked, she just chewed loudly or expelled wind.
Megan’s right ear was not spared disturbance either as Miss Nash had been violently coughing throughout the night and had still not dislodged whatever it was that was causing aggravation, she was trying her best to though as the sound of spitting phlegm into an echoing pan had been intermingled with the hacking cough.
Megan closed her eyes, tired of staring at the nurses’ station, where they had now turned her buzzer back to ‘off’ but were still debating Ibiza or Magaluf. Over the generic hospital smell, which reminded Megan of the fluid in her departed husband’s insulin injections, there was a pungent stench of disinfectant still lingering from an incident of vomiting from a lady opposite whose name Megan didn’t know. She’d only been brought in a few hours ago, a replacement for the lady who died in the night, Megan didn’t know her name either but she’d been lying there a few hours between discovery and removal, maybe the disinfectant was masking the odour of death as well as the vomit.
Clacking footsteps increasing in volume towards Megan’s bed made her open her eyes in time to see a nurse stopping at the end of her bed.
“What is it?” said the nurse, “What did you press for?”
“I’m getting a bit chilly love” said Megan, “Could I have another blanket please?”
“Do you really need one? Everyone else will want one if I get you one.” Said the nurse.
“Oh” said Megan glancing at Mrs Brown and Miss Nash, both looking blankly at her, “I’ll be ok then.”
The nurse plodded back down the ward without saying anymore. Megan stared at the cold metal bar at the side of her bed, left permanently up as she could not get out of her bed unaided, and tried to remember how many days her son had said she would be in there for.
Guillermo Brown
Published January 15, 2015 by naomirettigThe church clock strikes eight, so those villagers who are awake know without checking that it is six. A cock crows. A body lies across the doorstep of the church, a line of crumb-carrying ants marches across the fedora covering its face. There is a serene, momentary quiet after the chimes cease before the silence is cracked by a baby crying.
Guillermo was always awake at six, his mother believed he heard the eight strikes of the clock and thinking it was eight he would exercise his small lungs as a fanfare to herald in the new day. She wished they would fix the church clock so she could gain two extra precious hours of sleep. Sleep was in scarce supply for Mrs Brown. Throughout the nights she was either restlessly stirring to check on baby Guillermo’s grizzling and persuading him to fall back asleep or listening to sounds outside of the window screen as indicators to her husband’s return.
Guillermo’s father Benito often stayed out all night, sleeping on the street after too much tequila rendered him unable to fulfill the final few footsteps home. Sometimes he wouldn’t even make it out of the bar before falling into a deep deathlike slumber. Very often he was found slumped on the steps of the church, a sinner seeking sanctuary or salvation, or both.
Celebrity Seaside Shenanigans
Published January 15, 2015 by naomirettigBelinda Carlisle is wearing a scuffed lobster costume and singing ‘Rock lobster’ to herself in the corner of the amusement arcade. She grumbles to the coin attendant that she should have been in the B-52’s. The coin attendant just ignores her and carries on eating her fish paste sandwich. Crumbs fall silently to the floor.
Fish from Marillion is singing ‘Broken Wings’. He doesn’t realise its Mr Mister’s song and not his. He is sat on the end of the pier wearing a giant rubber fish outfit. It’s a cod. When he sings ‘take these broken wings and make them fly again’ he flaps his little fins. He thinks they are wings. It’s all very pitiful.
Terence Trent D’Arby is hiding in an arcade claw machine wearing a squeaky puffer fish outfit as a disguise. He hums ‘Never gonna give you up’ as he tampers with the claw. He really is never going to give up those prizes.
Axl Rose is hanging around the candyfloss stall, again. He’s dressed as a mermaid and combs his long locks coyly. His outfit has five scales missing and doesn’t quite fit so you can see his trainers poking out from under his tail. He is annoying the candyfloss man as he sings ‘Pour some sugar on me’ every time a candyfloss is made.
Andrew Ridgeley is shuffling slowly around the deckchair hire singing ‘Don’t you forget about me’. He tries to get a conga going but no one will join in. This makes him very sad and gentle tears roll down his eel costume, glistening in the last sunlight of the day.
Midge Ure is crabbing in a crab pool. He’s dressed in a crab outfit as he thinks this will attract crabs to him like a crab magnet. The crab outfit is too new and shiny though so the crabs aren’t fooled. He quietly sings ‘I think we’re alone now’ to coax them out. They are not having it.
Morten Harket is fishing. His starfish costume is hampering his cast out with his rod though as his pointy bits keep catching the line. This doesn’t dampen his enthusiasm though. He hums ‘Fade to grey’ as he repeatedly casts out. If only he had put some bait on the line. Oh Morten, you are a silly starfish.
Bono is hiding behind the doughnut stand. He’s getting a complex when people shout ‘doughnut’. He thinks they are shouting at him. His rusty orange anchor outfit is the identical colour to the doughnut stand so people can’t see him but can hear his voice singing ‘Alone’ as he blends in chameleon like.
KC and the Sunshine Band have taken over the carousel. KC is flamboyantly riding a resin horse while the Sunshine Band are all squished into a fire engine carriage. It’s not helping that they are all dressed as rabbits as the extra inches of fluffy tails have wedged everyone in too tight. They are singing ‘People are strange’, aimed loudly at KC as they want to be The Bunnymen but KC doesn’t want to be Echo.
The faint sound of Elvis Costello singing ‘I still haven’t found what I’m looking for’ wafts across the beach as he scans his metal detector over the brown sand. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for though so he might be a while. His shell costume is slightly too big and it’s chaffing him in unmentionable places. This is not the shell suit he had in mind.
Nik Kershaw is dressed as an octopus. Some of his suckers are missing. They are still stuck to the window of Starbucks from when he threw himself at it in protest for their tax avoidance. He’s racing alongside the donkey rides while singing ‘Nothing’s gonna stop us now’. The donkeys are not impressed. Neither is the owner who is disturbed by Nik’s tentacles.
The Thompson Twins have hi-jacked the Punch and Judy tent. They have tied up the puppets and have dressed as Punch and Judy themselves. They are arguing over the string of sausages and are both humming ‘Never ending story’ through gritted teeth as they know subconsciously that neither will give in. That’s not the way to do it.
Salt n Pepa are in witness protection. They have changed their names to Mayo and Mustard and run a mobile chip van by the beach. They dress as seagulls to scare away real seagulls swooping in for their chips. It works. They sing ‘Jump’. They think this is more exciting than pushing it.
Dave Lee Roth wanders aimlessly around the beach car park singing ‘Drive’. His whale outfit has a cardboard fin, made out of a cereal box, attached to it as he thinks he’s more of a shark than a whale. The sellotape attaching it is losing its stickiness though and flaps in the wind. Dave sings louder to cover the noise of this.
Carol Decker is disguised as a chip. She is bird-watching and believes this will attract the birds to her. It’s only attracting pesky seagulls though so she is annoyed with herself. She sings ‘Manic Monday’. She always wanted to be in The Bangles. She desperately wants to see a lesser spotted tit.
Paul Hardcastle sweeps the aisles in the bingo hall. He is not paid to do this, the staff just ignore him as he is harmless enough. He wears a turtle costume. He always wanted to be a mutant ninja turtle so he has tied a pink ribbon around his head to pretend he is. As he sweeps he quietly mumbles the words to ‘The final countdown’ until the bingo caller shouts out 19 and then he bursts into his single of the same title. He wonders why he hasn’t sung it for a while. He doesn’t realise the number nineteen ball has been removed from play.
Marc Almond is now selling ice-creams. He has his own little booth and goes by the name of Mr Pistachio. Not being one to conform he is not dressed as a pistachio but as a lighthouse. He is very proud of his flashing light that rotates around his head. He’s thrilled when customers ‘ooh’ at him. He sings the song ‘Vienna’ but changes it to ‘Viennetta’. This amuses him greatly.
Grace Jones floats on her back in the sea. She has removed the fin from her shark outfit as she wants to soften her image. She could swap with Dave Lee Roth for his whale costume but they are still not speaking following a vol-au-vent incident in 1993. She hums ‘It’s raining men’ while looking up at the sky hopefully and paddling her hands aimlessly.
Yazz is whizzing by on a yellow pedalo, trying not to splash Grace Jones. Her jellyfish costume trails in the water as she sings ‘Together in electric dreams’. She is supposed to be meeting up with the plastic population but is having far too much fun and has lost track of time. Oh Yazz, you are naughty.
Fergal Sharkey scrapes barnacles from the boat hire boats with a soup spoon. He is not paid to do this but does it when the boat owner goes to lunch. He is wearing his seahorse outfit back to front but has made holes for his arms to poke through. He whistles ‘the way it is’ as he chisels away with his spoon.
Robert Smith is annoying the balloon seller by singing ’99 red balloons’ and dancing in a provocative manner in a bright pink dolphin suit. The balloon seller keeps pointing out that he doesn’t have 99 red balloons but Robert just doesn’t care as he’s enjoying himself too much.
Hotdog
Published January 15, 2015 by naomirettigHotdog stand, half time at football match.
A hotdog stand is set up on SL, faint football crowd noise can be heard in the background, EDDIE is stood behind the hotdog stand stirring onions in a pan, there is a queue of people to the right of the stand, JAMES is stood at the front of the queue.
EDDIE: Aright mate, what can I do you for?
JAMES: Chicken please.
EDDIE: Chicken?
JAMES: Yes, a chicken pie please.
EDDIE: I do ot dogs. I aint got no chicken pies.
JAMES: A steak and kidney pie then?
EDDIE: You avin a laff?
JAMES: Not at all. So you don’t have any steak and kidney pies either?
EDDIE: No I aint got no bleedin pies, I got ot dogs.
JAMES: Do you have a beef and onion pie then please?
EDDIE: Listen mate, I’m gonna do you some damage if you carry on askin for a bleedin
pie. You can eiver av an ot dog or you can do one.
JAMES: Ah, is there a special nod or handshake I need to partake in to be able to have a
pie? (winks at Eddie)
EDDIE: Special nod or andshake?! I’ll give you a special nod if you don’t clear off you
nutter.
JAMES: Well, we clearly seem to be on different pages sir, and quite frankly I find you
extremely ill mannered.
EDDIE: Diff’rent pages? You’re on a diff’rent bleedin bookshelf mate! Now clear off
before I shove my boot up your arsenal.
(JAMES walks away SR shaking his head in disgust, EDDIE carries on in the background serving the queue, DAVINA enters SR, sees JAMES and walks towards him)
DAVINA: Darling! You’ve been gone such a long time I’ve come on the hunt for you.
JAMES: Sorry sweetie, I’ve had no joy with the food, the man on the stand was so
unhelpful. He protested he had no pies at all.
DAVINA: Well of course he doesn’t silly, he sells hot dogs.
JAMES: But sweetie, you said he had lovely pies.
DAVINA: (laughs) Oh darling you are too funny. Yes I did say that, I was speaking the in
the amusing slang these people use. I said he had nice pies. Eyes silly, eyes. He
has nice eyes!
JAMES: Oh! I’m such a silly billy!
(JAMES and DAVINA laugh together, hold hands and exit SR)
Change a letter to change the crime show
Published January 15, 2015 by naomirettigSome alternative TV show pitches achieved by just changing one letter of existing UK crime shows.
Agatha Christie’s Marple = Agatha Christie’s Marble. Documentary looking at Agatha’s hidden Italian statue collection in secret vault in Torquay. Hosted by Angelos Epithemiou.
The Body Farm = The Body Fart. Spin off show from Embarrassing Bodies. Dr Christian travels the UK with Joe Pasquale trying to capture the perfect specimen of wind.
Case Histories = Vase Histories. Open University feature showcasing vases of the world and their histories. Presented by Danny Dyer.
Cold Blood = Cold Bloom Reality TV show about the early morning flower markets in Amsterdam, Voiceover by Alan Carr.
Cracker = Fracker. Drama starring Neil Stuke about a man sent into a hostile North East community to carry out fracking for the government.
Crime Traveller = Prime Traveller. Travel show presented by Joan Collins and Johnny Vegas showing only the most luxurious destinations, hotels and travel options.
Death in Paradise = Heath in Paradise. Drama sequel to Wuthering Heights where Heathcliff stops mooning over Cathy and sets sail to Barbados for fun and frolics. Noel Fielding to be Heath.
Foyle’s War = Foyle’s Bar. Cheers style comedy set in the 1950’s when Foyle retires from military life and opens a bar.
Good Cop = Good Cod. Foodie show travelling the UK to find Britain’s best fish and chip shop, hosted by Keith Chegwin.
Law and Order = Jaw and Order. Sitcom starring Jon Richardson about a dentist with chronic OCD.
Line of Duty = Wine of Duty. Period drama about a wine making dynasty and their vineyard. Starring Frazer Hines, Martine McCutcheon and Stephanie Cole.
New Tricks = New Trucks. Top Gear lifestyle show for HGV drivers, presented by Su Pollard and Mickey Flanagan.
Prime Suspect = Price Suspect. Reality TV show following a Trading Standards task force. Voiceover by Bobby Ball.
Ripper Street = Hipper Street. Makeover show where two neighbouring streets compete to be the ‘hipper’ street. Presented by Eamonn Holmes and Ruth Langsford, team captains for each street.
The Sweeney = The Tweeney. Reality documentary following CBBC ‘star’ Milo as he leaves The Tweenies and tries his hand at stand-up comedy in working men’s clubs up north. Commentary by Sean Lock.
Silk = Sulk. Supernanny Jo Frost and Vinny Jones take on Britain’s most troublesome teenagers in a boot camp in West Wales.
Vera = Verb. Do you know your verbs from your adjectives? A grammar quiz show hosted by Jimmy Nail.
Waking the Dead = Waking the Head. Comedy about a narcoleptic teacher. Starring David Morrissey and Coleen Nolan.
Waking the Dead = Baking the Dead. Cooking for cannibals. Hosted by Anne Diamond.
Wire in the Blood = Fire in the Blood. Drama about a family of fire fighters. Starring Martin Kemp, Emmett J Scanlan and Danny Young.
The Silent Place
Published January 15, 2015 by naomirettigFresh flowers of pink and purple delight my eyes,
Soothing scent, aromatherapy for the soul.
Silent figures cluster closer saying goodbyes
Full of raw emotion but showing self-control.
Ghosts waltzing through fresh dew with an elegant grace,
Lovers, re-joined, time is no longer their keeper,
Free to celebrate joy in eternal embrace
After having fought then welcoming the reaper.
Weathered headstones submerging like abandoned ships
Tilting at harsh angles, pleading to be redeemed.
Black crows like mourners survey from up high on crypts
Judging stern over souls that were not what they seemed.
Fate and disease, war heroes’ forgotten glories.
All of humanity lies beneath, now at peace.
Study the headstones and imagine their stories,
Young and old taken too soon or blessed release.
Come to my silent place, my time stopping haven
Where thoughts unfurl from flowing stream to tranquil lake,
Here my worries and fears are laid bare and shaven
And stillness encircles me with comforting ache.
I’ll wait in my silent place serenely for you,
No need to rush as time is my gentle friend here,
I will wait until you are ready to come through
And hold you so closely to smother all your fear.
Strength
Published January 15, 2015 by naomirettigI am a bending twig refusing to snap,
I am tenacious waves pummelling rocks,
I am a temperate tide chaperoning you to shore.
I am a fleecy quilt to keep you warm,
I am a refreshing breeze to cool you,
I am a moonlit sky illuminating your way home.
I am you, you are stronger than you think.
Believe in me and have faith in yourself.
I am a comforting hand squeezing tight to remind you.
The Cafe
Published January 15, 2015 by naomirettigThe hiss of the steamer spits like a snake
As the café and staff start to awake.
Grinding of beans and coffee aromas,
Shuffling shoppers emerge from their comas.
The scraping chairs of coming and going,
Satisfied customers ever flowing.
The chef in the kitchen in a flurry
Cooking up soup, a toastie and curry.
It’s all out action at pot-wash station,
Sauce smeared plates and dehydration.
A cry of ‘spoons’ as they vanish out front,
A quick foot assistant goes on a hunt.
Chatter of people enjoying their food
Drinking Earl Grey tea, freshly brewed.
Wonderful staff remaining so cheerful
Even when queues are so long and fearful.
When crowds have gone and the day is complete
Body parts ache like an Olympic athlete.
When I am old
Published January 15, 2015 by naomirettigWhen I am old I shall have candyfloss hair,
Dyed pink and permed looking fresh from the fair.
I shall ride in a chair as I won’t want to walk
And take out my teeth when I don’t want to talk.
I’ll pretend to be deaf when people are boring,
Fall asleep at parties with very loud snoring.
I shall wear bright red lipstick on my lips
And for breakfast eat three walnut whips.
I shall have cocktails on Saturday nights
Wearing pink and purple stripy tights.
I shall have six or eight cats for company
And enjoy a paddle in the winter sea.
When I am old I shall sleep ‘til noon
And embrace my body that looks like a prune.