As discussed, Harald Bluetooth eviscerates me with his broadsword. I collapse, cloud-watching until the battle ends – which will be in fifteen minutes; we do three of these per hour. Sadly, the corpse next to mine is Sven Forkbeard. Why… Continue Reading
Dr. Alison Starr is sobbing behind the pod-bay door of the latrine. She must be brushing her teeth. “Smile bright—” It’s back. The VEIN-9 — or Volumetric Emotive Interface Network, version 9 — has been playing a thirty-second toothpaste ad… Continue Reading
There are many Declans in this story, but let’s begin with ours. Declan sits on the edge of his bed, absently sweeping his hands under the crumpled sheets in search of the remote. When that fails, he reaches beneath the… Continue Reading
I’d been up on the high shelf for a month, luring gullible punters in for five quid a pop. We’d travel with different carnivals, into different villages, parks, run-down towns — but everywhere felt the same. Us big ones rarely… Continue Reading
Monday “Maud, he’s at it again. The new neighbour. He’s doing it doggy style in the garden.” “What!?” “Doggy Style. Just like yesterday.” “Downward dog, Idris. It’s called downward dog.” “Well, whatever it is, it’s obscene, shaking his arse around… Continue Reading
The dark figure strode purposefully toward the softly glowing front gate of the Afterlife. Its eyes were black holes that could tug your soul away from you. Its face was hewn from the same black granite as the sarcophagi of… Continue Reading
Jenna didn’t believe in the product. But she believed in metrics, and GlowSkin’s launch video had already hit 1.6 million in under three hours. Her contract included a bonus if she crossed two. And anyway, disbelief didn’t pay rent. She… Continue Reading
On the day in question, I’m perusing the grapefruits at my supermarket. I make sure I pick only a grapefruit clearly stickered “Star Ruby.” Meaning it’s not a pink grapefruit. Meaning it’s not an apricot. Meaning it’s not a bran… Continue Reading
I was enjoying a little drink in the Dog and Blanket in Nether Sodbury. “Hey, Scruples, I want a word with you.” I recognised John Donaldson. He frequented the Dog and Blanket and after a skinful, he would entertain them… Continue Reading
When a client I’ll call Fred first came to see me, he complained of feeling ugly, unimportant, and vastly underappreciated. He said that he’d once been a grand personage — exalted, even — but a dreadful event had transformed him… Continue Reading