He couldn't understand why they called him brilliant and when he was offered a Nobel prize, he declined. It made him sad to think they'd heap praise on him for a formula that calculated the end of existence. Brilliant? he thought, no thanks, I would so much rather fade away.


Everything was under control. Preparation is everything, he told his subordinates. Seismic readings gave adequate warning so important things were squared away and secured, unsafe buildings, evacuated. He felt quite chuffed with himself and strode down the street with a swagger. That's when the runaway horse hit him. Didn't anticipate that. Picture: Imperial War Museum,…Read more ANTICIPATE


  Everyone knows them, sees them daily; checking their hair or hairline, never making eye contact, too busy with their phone or checking themselves out in the reflection of the shop window or the mirror behind your ear, over your shoulder. People say, 'if they were a lollipop, they'd lick themselves.

DISASTROUS – Daily Post Prompt

Four sheets to the wind, dressing quickly, grabs the first shirt he can find in the crumpled heap in the corner. Next, trousers, socks and his only pair of shoes, are under the bed. Finally, his jacket is where he left it, behind the door. For a funeral though, disastrous.


  No, I'm not skipping about, having a laugh, it's a berry that's neither soft, succulent or sweet. Quite the contrary, indeed, for it's sharp, even bitter with a crunchy texture and a salty flavour. Eat it fresh or soaked in brine, with fish, in a tartare sauce, it's a caper.


There was a time when the angle of your dander meant  almost as much as the stoke in your poke but never enough. Back then there were standards, he thought, ready to torch the twelfth bonfire. But standards have fallen, he thought. for Chrissakes, some of these boys are racists.


  Joshua adjusts his collar, stiff and starched, just as he likes, with wing collars.  The chemical cocktail prepped for the execution, all he has to do is throw the switch. He declines, waiting for a printout, goose feather in hand. 'If I must kill,' he says, ' I use a quill.'


  He hit the ground, running. It was quite a jump from a fast moving train and landing at such pace could've been fatal but he was alive and free at the mouth of the mountain tunnel. He felt relieved. Prematurely, as it happened, he was hit by an oncoming train.


  The commander knew the value of uniform and uniformity. Parade drill was the backbone of discipline and order because he wrote the handbook and was a stickler for appearance. But when one soldier stumbled out of rank before a skip and a step, he smiled, thinking, we need him, too.