Category: Fiction
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According to Wikipedia Stooky Bill was the name given to the head of a ventriloquist dummy that British television pioneer John Logie Baird used in his 1924 experiments to transmit a televised image between rooms in his laboratory at 22 Frith Street, London.
The First of TheFive takes this name.
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Priory Hall.
A simple testament to greed.
At night the wind laps the ghost estate like a poisoned tongue probing a mouth of broken teeth.
In a flat stripped and rotting. A broken television perched on a chair comes to life.
A new signal is available.
The First of TheFive.
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‘Listen to me,’ said the Rock Star and the crowd fell silent. The Rock Star spread his arms out wide.
‘The5 are here,’ he cried. ‘The5 are really here.’
Even though they didn’t know why, the crowd began to clap and cheer. The Rock Star punched the air and whooped.
‘Yeah!’ he yelled. ‘They’re really here.’
The Rock Star played the crowd now.
‘Listen,’ he whispered. ‘Who wants to join The5?’
‘We do,’ someone yelled from the front of the stage. ‘We all do.’
The Rock Star pulled the Horn from his belt.
‘Ladies and Gentlemen,’ he roared. ‘This next song is for all of you.’
The Rock Star put the Horn to his lips.
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Mac reached over and picked up his spectacles. He swung his tired legs out of bed.
‘And so the day I always knew is right here now.’
Mac looked out into the darkness.
‘If you are reading this then you will know that we tried. We really did.’
Mac paused and a small tear began to form in his tired eye.
‘I suppose it was always the case that an old man and a young child would be no match for all the evil that the world has never seen.’
Mac smiled.
‘When the inevitable darkness comes for you be assured that it wasn’t the whole world that surrendered.’
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At this point it is fair to say that the world has reached a dreadful juncture.
With the terrible truth now slowly pouring from beyond the NotBeSpeak are beginning.
No-one was able to see but a form began to materialise on the stage.
A form that coalesced in the light that the video cast upon the dark.
Indeterminate but concrete. Fleeting but arrived.
The first of the NotBeSpeak.
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As I stare into the longness of my loneliness I am comforted by a book I recently found in an abandoned house not far from where I live now.Though the circumstances of his solitude are not the circumstances of my solitude there is something to be found in the following words from Henry David Thoreau’s Walden:
I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude. We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers. A man thinking or working is always alone, let him be where he will. (1854)
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Not you too, Paul Hewson, I said to myself. But it was. The images were grainy. The glasses gave him away. It was snowing in the footage. The garage forecourt was empty. Where was Catherine Deneuve?
Bono was talking on what looked like a Mobira Cityman 900. 183 x 43 x 79 mm. Those things have a total weight of 760g. They are nicknamed ‘Gorba’ in Finland because Mikhail Gorbachev used one during a press conference in 1987.
Who would be on the other end of a phone like that? And what would they be saying? I could only imagine.
The enormity of my task fell upon me like wealth fell hard on Charles Foster Kane.
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Good news. I have finally found the house I have been looking for.
Empty. Turn-key condition. No chain. Fully furnished. It even has a verandah overlooking a lake. Best of all the house is very close to the city – one bridge and a brisk jog.
I have had to do some landscaping in the garden. I also put up a new wall for privacy. I haven’t met my neighbors yet but I’m sure I will. I hear some of them at night. Walking around. In the morning they are not there.
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I used a stick.
To make an axe.
To hit a tree.
To make a log.
That makes a plank.
And then a stick.
To make another axe.
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BARNABY TAYLOR 