The Curse of Gary (Part 4)

"Good sir," said Victor to the owner, "kindly pour a shot of gin." The owner hesitated; Victor nodded to him; the owner relented. The three men watched the potent liquid flow from bottle to shot glass. "Now, Keith," said Victor, "this is a metronome. It keeps time, like a drumbeat. When I set the pendulum... Continue Reading →

The Curse of Gary (Part 3)

Victor clicked open his briefcase and took out a shiny black metronome. He placed it on the bar. The owner leaned in for a closer look, wiggled his finger in his ear then shrugged. "What is it?" he asked. "This, my good fellow, is the finest tempo-keeping device known to man. It has a finer... Continue Reading →

The Curse of Gary (Part 2)

Victor walked with a brisk step and a broad smile, both of which faded in seconds. Though it was only ten in the morning the temperature was already 35° Celsius, and its equivalent in Fahrenheit. Victor glanced up at the sun, which beat down on him like Keith Moon upon a snare drum. He noticed... Continue Reading →

Poem: Morning Coffee

This morning I woke from pleasant dreams, To the wafting scent of roasted beans. The kettle boiled and sounded it's call, I heard the whistle from down the hall.   I put my old robe on over my trunks, To the friendly clink of coffee cups. Now, I don't mind a noisy home, But I... Continue Reading →

Book Review: The Catcher in the Rye

All I used to know about this novel was that Mark David Chapman had it with him when he shot John Lennon. Fearing the book contained some bewitching influence, for years I resisted the curiosity to read it, lest I, too, be brainwashed into murdering an overrated music star. Then recently I watched a television... Continue Reading →

Book Review: The Sun Also Rises

In the state art gallery I saw a painting that consisted of three huge orange swirls across a giant white canvas. It would have taken all of thirty seconds to paint. I imagine art critics raved about the piece’s “importance”, and discussed the great meaning it conveyed. Meanwhile, the humble art gallery patron was left... Continue Reading →

A Day in the Life

Ethel was awakened as usual by the shrieks of her conscience. She took a long swig from the bedside bottle of whisky, and then lay there while her soul succumbed to the anaesthetic. She knew the drill; she’d seen it in countless others whose heads she had cradled as they drifted, at first terrified, then... Continue Reading →

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