Author: Alexander Fawn

It was a pleasantly warm day for sitting quietly in his back garden.

The man had not been there long when he first heard it. He became aware of a mumbling sound in his head. It was like a ringing in his ears, but different. It came in short bursts, a fuzzy sound, a bit like hearing a distant voice coming from a neighbour’s radio, barely audible. As he sat there it became clearer. Then, with a sudden surge of clarity, he heard “Hello!” It was then that he became aware of a large stick insect, sitting on the lip of a nearby flowerpot. As he stared at it, it said, “Yes, it’s me. I’m trying to tell you something. All you have to do is listen.”

Badly shaken, he said, “But you are a stick insect…”

“Yes. Yes. I know. I’ve heard it all before. Don’t get hung up in all that stuff! You humans are far too fond of going into denial when we insects feel we really have something to say.”

The man sat dumbfounded… and told off.

The insect said, “Have I got your attention?”

The man nodded.

The insect said, “Good! OK then. You see that scarlet swamp hibiscus, in the corner there?”

He looked at it. He remembered his late wife had planted it.

“Well, yes,” he said.

“It needs watering.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. These are what you call water-loving plants. If the soil gets too dry they won’t bloom. In fact, they’ll most likely die.”

Looking back at the plant, he heard a great fluttering as the insect took off. He heard a murmured, “Just a suggestion.”

He went inside and Googled it.

She wiped tears away to get a better look at the broken chain.

She doesn’t know how it happened. Did it snag on something? It had simply rested there on the shelf where it had always been. Apart from being a family heirloom, it was priceless. The chain was made of gold. Two of the links had broken open. It was part of an ancient weighty artefact, likewise made of solid gold. It was a piece of art; a mystic winged figure with a head and tail. Part of the chain seemed to be welded to the back of the pendant with no kind of clasp. It was obviously designed to slip straight over the head. She felt wretched about it, after all it was in her care.

Then, the solution came to her. For the very first time she would turn to Norse theology. Not so much theology as mythology. She felt sure that her great grandmother’s book would be the answer. She went to the large, dusty book box in the attic. She found it. The great tome was titled ‘The Elfin Guide’. Back in the lounge she began reading. She found what she was looking for.

That night she would put milk and barley out on the front porch just before she went to bed. Alongside, she would place the wishing dish, another relic handed down. This would contain the broken amulet. She knew that if she did the entire thing perfectly, exactly as described in the book, the elves would come and make any repairs needed before sunrise. To make doubly sure, she read through the relevant passage again.

When the time came, everything was put out.

In the morning she hurried down to check on whether the elves had been; they had. The milk was gone; the barley was gone; and the pendant and the dish were gone!

She had obviously skipped over the first line in the guide. It read, ‘Not all elves are good.’

She had been through a really bad time and the phone call was just what she needed.

She had applied for a job. Now they were on the phone arranging a time for her to go in for an interview. Was it too soon after the trauma of the last few days? The row with her stupid boyfriend. The way it had ended. The feelings that the whole thing had left her with; a strange mixture of relief and anxiety, still plaguing her. Despite this, it was exactly what she wanted; good money, nice people and close to home. Surely, this has to be an opportunity that shouldn’t be ignored. She resolved herself to the fact that she would agree to whatever time was suggested. What she needed to be doing right now was deciding what she would wear.

When the time came, she was smartly dressed and on time. The manager was very nice and took his time explaining the role. However, she did find her focus drifting off and maintaining her full attention was becoming extremely difficult. Had she got back into the everyday world too early? Should she have given herself more time; more time before having to handle a conversation like this? He was saying something about their safety policy. She felt the panic rising, aware of the fact that her whole body was stiffening with the strain of coping with the situation. Now, he was saying she’d be reporting to the department’s head.

All of a sudden, she gasped, and all at once, she thought about a head, well, not just any old head, but the head.

The one wrapped in a towel, at the bottom of her freezer…

He came out of nowhere…

It was as though he materialised in some way, on the empty platform, slapping his gloved hands together against the cold. He smiled at the startled traveller, who had been standing there at the deserted station for some time, waiting for the late train. It was around midnight and the man was feeling exposed to the icy wind that swept along the line. He had just finished wrapping his scarf around his neck even tighter to ward off the chill when the stranger appeared, magically.

“Bitter.”

“Eh?” The traveller jumped visibly.

“The cold… bitter.”

The traveller looked around the station, desperately trying to figure out where the man had come from. “Yes,” he replied.

“Late,” said the stranger.

“Yes, it is.”

The stranger moved closer, giving an embarrassed laugh. “I’ve come here to give you a warning. Look, I know this is all a bit unusual, but you need to know that you’re in danger, mortal danger.”

The man was still reeling from the suddenness of the stranger‘s appearance. He said, “You’re not making any sense… who are you?”

“Not important.”

“No?”

“No. What’s important is that I tell you something. Something you need to know.”

The man went to speak, the other cut him off.

“Your time is being extended. A recent kindness on your part has been observed. Ah! Such benevolence. Because of this, you should let the train go and catch the one that is scheduled to arrive an hour later.”

“What kindness are you talking about?”

“Again, not important.” He raised the palm of his hand and said, “No! The only thing you have to know is what I’ve said. Let the train go; catch the next.”

The traveller stood shaking his head, frowning.

“Of course, you need some kind of proof; something that will convince you to heed the warning.” He paused, then said, “A girl with a red beret will get off the train and give you a smile. This will convince you.” The tracks began to rumble. He waved his hand. “Here it comes”.

The traveller looked up the line and saw the approaching lights. In that moment, looking back, the stranger simply wasn’t there anymore. The traveller looked around and whispered, “Gone!” under his breath. Visibly shaken by the whole incident, he was hardly aware of the carriages screeching to a halt in front of him. Moments later, the girl with the red beret smiled as she passed down the platform with others, heading for the exit gate.

He caught the next train.

He sat, watching the crowds of people milling to-and-fro in the city centre.

They filled the footpaths and criss-crossed the roads, busy with traffic. Amid these, were the less fortunate; the down-and-outs, the beggars and the tramps that live their lives in the gutter, the bums and the have-nots, the destitute and the homeless, the poor and the lonely, and even those well-dressed, but bankrupt and insolvent. Albeit, that each and everyone of these have within them the full potential to live a life that is so much better. He sees all this from atop the street lamp.

Yet, despite all that he sees, the wraith is full of envy as he watches those ingrates that remain in the land of the living.

The man stood operating the machine with one eye on the clock.

He was looking forward to the morning tea break. Just a few minutes to go. He had it in mind to get a large, crusty, cheese roll with his coffee today. The older man, operating the lathe next to him saw him look at the clock, caught his eye and smiled. The bell rang. In the canteen they collected their food and drink and sat together, as usual. They’d known each other a long time. The older man let out a long sigh after removing his mask. The other did the same and they began eating. After a while the older man started the conversation by pointing at his mask.

He said, “I hate those things.”

The other nodded. “Me too.”

Of the two, the older man felt the protocols and the inconveniences of the pandemic far more than the other. He said, “Did you end up going to the café with the guys?”

“Yep.”

“I hear the food’s good there. Never been myself.”

“Yes, it is, and the place has a nice relaxed atmosphere to it.”

“Those mates of yours are from your social club, aren’t they?”

“That’s right.”

The older man hesitated for a bit before saying, “The younger one, you know, I forget his name, isn’t he some kind of conscientious objector?”

“You’re right, he is. He refuses to get the jab on the grounds that it’s never been properly tested.”

“But he went with you anyway.” said the other, more of a statement than a question.

“That’s right.”

“So, he sat in there with you, knowing that he’d never been vaccinated. Was he wearing a mask?”

“Yeah. We talked him into wearing one.” He looked at his friend. “I know what you’re thinking… it was wrong.”

“Well, it was, wasn’t it? When you think about it, going in there untested. He was putting all those people at risk.”

The younger man smiled. “You are right, of course, but I was happy to let it go as a minor indiscretion.”

The other raised his eyebrows. “How come?”

“Look, I know you’re not fond of me going all philosophical on you, but…” He looked at the clock. “In the time allotted to me, I can explain, if you like?”

“Give it a go,” said the other, with a small smile.

“OK. Like most people, I suppose, I have a fair number of acquaintances, and a number of friends, and a small number of really good friends. Like you, these guys fall into the last category. Rightly or wrongly, with those people I am willing to let them commit what you might call a small misdemeanour from time to time, without reproach.”

The other sat thinking for a few beats.

The younger man added, “After all, in the whole scheme of things, people that you really like should be permitted the occasional peccadillo.”

“Occasional what?” Said the other, just as the bell sounded.

The younger man got to his feet and with a broad smile said, “Tell you what, we’ll talk about it lunchtime.”

It was the largest furniture store in town.

The drifter wandered in soon after opening time. He was in his twenties and as thin as a rake. Life on the streets had not been kind to him, physically. His hair and beard were long, but he’d managed to keep himself clean enough that people didn’t exactly avoid him. The night had been cold and a welcoming blast of warm air swept over him as he entered. He strolled passed the settees and armchairs until he came to one that had lots of padding and looked extremely comfortable. Glancing around, he saw how quiet it was. He saw no harm in trying it.

The girl who welcomed customers when they sauntered into the lounge suite part of the store, was also in her twenties. She had turned out to be one of the store’s best sales people and did rather well on its sales commission’s scheme. It was around an hour after opening when she found him, hidden away in the far corner. He was snoring softly. She reckoned him to be about the same age as her brother, not that she’d seen him for ten years. He, like the sleeper, had taken to the streets and the family hadn’t heard from him since the day he left home.

She looked at him closely. It wasn’t him. For one thing, he was much too tall. Nevertheless, she would regard him as just another customer who had inadvertently fallen asleep while trying out the luxurious chair. She looked around and considered the possibility that her manager may not see it that way. From the adjoining section, she wheeled an exotic looking, panelled privacy screen, to where he dozed. She would leave him undisturbed until her morning break.

As the morning went on, the showroom had more customers walking through. She kept an eye on the far corner until staff began to accumulate around the coffee machine. She made two. Leaving her own, she took his and woke him.

Very little was said.

However, on waking, he showed that he appreciated the kindness she’d shown and politely made his way out onto the street with his hot drink, reflecting that he had not slept that well in a very long time…

In most aspects she regarded him as a perfect catch.

He was charming from the day they met. He had what might be called a totally balanced personality. There had been a charisma that was always there, and a feeling of complete trust that he would always put you first, always look out for you. You would always be safe knowing that he was around and could handle just about anything that life could throw at you. He had always known when a compliment was required. He seemed to be so aware of how you were feeling at any one time without him having to ask. She had very fond memories of him.

Pity about his feet!

The man coming home from work was thinking about one of his office staff. She had recently been diagnosed as needing bypass surgery. When he spoke to her, she said she had faith in the surgeon that would perform the operation. She was a good worker and it was his hope that she would recover quickly. He certainly didn’t want to lose her. He felt she deserved a break. He was also aware of the fact that she devoted a lot of her private time to charity work. It came about that the operation was successful and he was able to welcome her back.

In a neighbouring town a woman sat gazing out of the apartment’s window, thinking about her boyfriend. They had been together for some time and she was very much in love with him. For her, it was a matter of faith as to whether he would keep his promise to stay away from alcohol. It had certainly got him into trouble in the past. She could only hope that he would keep his promise to remain sober. The first time he was charged with being drunk and disorderly, she had forgiven him out of charity. Further months proved that he was as good as his word and she could see that they now had a bright future.

In a faraway town a small child was crying in the back seat of its parents’ car. They were returning from the veterinary hospital where its anesthetised pet was lying on an operating table. The unhappy six-year-old considered itself to be the true owner of the cat. The parents had been using the same vet for a number of years and had faith in him. Their hope was that the animal would come out of the operation with no complications. It had been out of charity that they had originally taken the kitten from a local cat rescue facility.

It turned out that a few days later the cat came home fit and healthy.

For man, woman and child, it was true that the three theological virtues of faith, hope and charity went a long way.

He was delighted with his new satnav system.

He couldn’t wait to use it. He certainly didn’t need to program it to give directions to the local shops, where he was going to buy cigarettes, but he’d use it anyway. However, from the moment he pulled away and took the first turn, the directions seemed to be all wrong, but he decided to put his trust in the technology. He would go with the flow. He was in no big hurry. Instead of the usual five minute drive to his local agents, almost twenty minutes past before he came to a stop. He was parked on the side of the road in an unfamiliar part of town with the navigation system telling him he had arrived at his destination.

He looked around. The newsagency he was parked in front of had a large notice in the window. It was proclaiming that customers should hurry if they wanted a ticket in the Giant Lottery that was about to close. He was about to reprogram his new toy, when the thought struck him that he could buy what he wanted here and then head straight for home. As he entered the shop, empty of customers, he spent a few moments looking around. He had never been in this part of town, let alone this shop. He saw more placards advertising the big lottery. He smiled; he wasn’t much of a gambler. The owner appeared behind the counter and he bought his cigarettes. He thanked the man. As he was leaving, quite unexpectedly, he turned and went back to the counter.

He bought a ticket…