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Twenty days In a town in the distant mountains lived a young boy. His name was Arturo. The mountains were the Crunchy Mountains. The snow on them was hard and icy. Arthur felt a little lonely. He had no brothers and sisters. His father worked all night in the car factory and slept during the day. His mother worked at the local shop. Arthur spent a lot of time by himself walking in the meadows around the small cluster of houses. He did not go to school. He was on the spectrum. When he was not roaming the fields, he read books in his room. They lived in an apartment above the town square. His uncle owned the gelato shop. He often called in and his uncle would give him an ice-cream. His uncle knew he spent a lot of time alone. He worried about the young boy. It was not good for someone so young to spend so much time alone. But Arthur was happy enough. Sometimes in the fields he would meet shepherds and occasionally a nymph. On one fine day he saw a young god holding court around a tree in…
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New Year's Eve

New Year’s Eve 

Downtown central Auckland, New Zealand I hadn’t been out for a while. There were four of us. Bill was the president of a motorcycle gang. His friend Rangi was a big Maori guy. They had been in prison together. Kelly was Bill’s girlfriend, over the last week. She was very young and thin, with a face like an avatar. We were an unusual group. I was a bankrupt lawyer. We loaded up on pure Peruvian coke and Long Island Iced Teas and headed downtown. Rangi was so drunk he was sick in the back of the car. With a compassion born of doing a lag together, Bill cleaned him up and we found him a new shirt. Downtown was pumping. We headed for a small club in an old art deco building next to the waterfront. The security at the door let us in and we paid money to a bored looking girl at a desk who ushered us down the stairs. The club was packed and the carpet was wet with booze. As we stood in the queue at the bar, I noticed a tall blonde girl a few people over. I was pretty high. Thi…

The hit

It was a short drive inot the green hills west of downtown the rmnantsnof an ancient volcano from long ago when dinosaurs roamed the hills. Andy put his foot down and gunned it down the road. These police cars commodores with the staright six engine were powerful and good in a police chase. He pulled up outside the small cottage that sat amongst the rimu trees above the road. He skidded slightly in the metal. Down by the road there was a cluster of cops and whitecoats around the entrance to the garage. Someone had obviously got the wheels turning as he had bee on leave and perhapds they didn’t expect that he would be available. They should have known better of course though it was hard to tear himself away from his hot sexy girlfriend and his dog. His dog had been on the bed. It had certainly been a long hot night . that must be where the body is colin. Yep he nodded to his 2ic  colin. Yes those who live by the sword die by the sword. Later down the track we are going to time walk to…

Out of nothing.

Petrona honestly thought she was in. Everything was going well. She had dialogue. She had a few good scenes, a boyfriend and a family. The creator seemed to love her. She got all the attention. Most of the words were about her. Then nothing. It just suddenly stopped. It was like she didn’t exist. There was a big lament, a big hissy fit. “Abandoned, violated. Such a well-rounded character with everything to look forward to. I was destined for greatness. I might have even lasted for a good hundred years. I mean the story was going really well.” The sense of elation she felt when she was created. It was a religious experience, so happy. To actually mean something. All those years of waiting. Finally she was on the road to a whole existence. She was so grateful. It was hard to express the gratitude she felt towards her. But she thought well I am giving something back. She seemed happy with me. She had heard there is a guy downtown who collects characters. Tries to breathe them alive again…

OCD

It was stupid obsessive nakedness absorbed into the shower tiles. Hadn’t had a holiday. Like a skiing holiday. Days at the beach, getting absolutely burnt from the sun. What the fuck anyway. It was hard to just dig in. To avoid all sorts of things that had to be done. Some sort of compulsive disorder? Whatever it was, dig the dammed thing out very quickly. It started to feel better. All the lines had come to a dead-end, falling in on themselves. Crushing, so they ended up as dead fragments of nothingness. It all combined in paralysis. So now, back out on the page, moving along at a quick pace, getting away from the town boundary, leaving behind the dairy with its milkshake machine and its packets of ten cigarettes. It was funny how the bounteousness of it all translated to the person behind the counter actually enjoying what they were doing. Was there pleasure in taking the money? Certainly, when the tails were turned, getting a refund on the bottles spent all day collecting, there wa…

A true story.

Morning all. Great day for it. Just bear with me a minute and we’ll be off. There were a party of four townies heading out for the morning. They had chartered the boat the day before. Andy emerged from the cabin. We’re still missing one who booked in a while back. Dude from Auckland. I tried to ring him this morning but couldn’t get through. Just as he was casting off a guy came running down the wharf. This must be him now. Hey jump on board buddy. Glad you could make it. What’s your name? Morris. Yeah you booked a while back eh. Shit I thought we’d lost you mate. Sorry about the muck around. Had to drive down from Whitianga. It wasn’t long and they were heading out of the harbour. There was a little swell but nothing to upset anyone. It looked like a good day and hopefully they would be back by lunch with a good stack of fish. The latecomer had some very professional fishing gear. It wasn’t long before he was sitting on a respectable catch. The others were just happy that anything wa…

The price of happiness.

I bought a book online. I felt a little guilty as I didn’t have enough money to pay the rent due Monday. Then I felt a little guilty for not buying it from a bookshop. But at the same time, it was amazing how easy it was over the net. I was soon awash in the warm expectation of the book arriving in the post. The book was by an American woman who I had never previously heard of. That was the other good thing about the internet. It was so easy to find people who were such good writers who you had never heard of. People like Raymond Carver. I was yet to buy one of his books. But apparently, he was a bit minimalist. Speaking of minimalism, the woman whose book I had ordered won a major literary prize for a short story that was only one-page long. Being naturally lazy and non-talkative this really appealed to me. Anyway, this was on a Friday. Come Monday morning I still didn’t have the money for the rent. Then later in the day a client who owed me money finally coughed up what he owed me a…