A battle ensued; Mr K with garbage bag-ponchos verses sons refusing to wear the garbage bags.Read more "Cosy in Garbage Bag Coats"
The dog emerged, head shaking something in her mouth.
As the thing scraped against the ground, sparks flew. The dingo yelped and released her prey. The three fellows stared at the mangled crab-like creature writhing on the grainy surface. It spun and fizzed, a demented break-dancer.
More than at any time of the year, ‘tis the season for almighty mistakes, confidence tricks and broken toys. From scammers to all sold out, ‘tis the time to be savvy and aware.Read more "Tuesday Post-Christmas Thoughts"
Long after the others limped off to bed, I harassed my cousin with questions.Read more "The Riddle"
Boris strode back into the church hall and boldly down the aisle. All the Wends turned and watched him march up to the altar as though he were the Messiah.Read more "Lost World of the Wends (45)"
“Hey, that wasn’t supposed to happen!” I leapt to my feet, my jumpsuit twisted around my ankles. The shrubs had disappeared and were replaced by the glass panels of the transporter enclosure. The control operators fixed their eyes on me as I struggled to pull up my suit.Read more "Bliss! It’s Free!"
I wandered off by myself to squander those few precious relics of dried fruit and savour their shrivelled sugary taste. But the meagre morsels were not enough to satisfy my hunger and I cried.Read more "Meagre Morsels"
Boris swaggered into the church and crawled up the wall at the back of the hall. Now let’s see what these suckers are up to. He nursed his stump. The new hand was already pushing its way into existence—like a shark’s tooth; it merely replaced the one bitten off.Read more "Lost World of the Wends (44)"
We struck a deal, I’d wash and they’d wipe. Fair enough. Sort of. They reasoned that I’d have to clean up my mess of chocolate cake. No mention of Dad’s Indonesian Rice splatters. But then, who was I to complain?Read more "Storm in a Chicken Coop"
‘Well, well, well, what do we have here?’
Friedrich gasped. His hands gripped the stones on the wall. Slowly, he twisted his head.
He saw a glow, but it wasn’t the ray of light he was hoping for. It was Boris’ hand—his ray-gun hand.