Author: Alexander Fawn

Evening was coming on as he stood at the rail, staring up into a grey sky.

It was normally a popular lookout in warmer weather, located as it was, at the boundary of the large open park. Very few people were still around, save for a few dog-walkers. Below, the military base was spread out over a huge area. Here and there lights began twinkling. He had no way of describing the emotions that swamped over him, looking down at it; not even to himself. He had been standing there watching since the middle of the afternoon, hardly moving, getting cold. He sneered at the thought that the chill in the air really didn’t matter. There was so much going through his head that was losing any value, any importance. His reverie was interrupted by a rattling coming nearer. He turned to see a man approaching with his dog.

“Hi!” said the man, in a cheery tone.

“Hi!” he replied, straightening and making an effort to be civil with a smile.

“I must say, you’ve been standing here a long time; I’ve walked the dog round this park twice now. I thought I’d check to see if you were OK. You are, are you? OK, I mean.”

“Not really, but…”

“Look, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to pry.”

The watcher sighed. “I’m waiting for the rocket to go up.”

At first, he looked up into the dimming sky, then down at the scene below.

The dog-walker leaned over the barrier. “Ah! I see your looking at the base down there. Are they doing a test or something? Haven’t seen anything on the news about it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. It’s not a test.”

“Not a test?”

“No. I wish it were. It’s the first of the intercontinental ballistic missiles, taking off from the base. It’ll be armed with nuclear war heads.” Pointing down, then up at the darkening sky, he said, “It will rise from over there on the right, then run off in that direction at a slight angle.” He waved his arm to indicate the path of the rocket’s flight.

“Is that right?”

“Yes. It indicates the beginning of the next world war; one that will be truly global.” He went back to peering down. “I could feel the tension down there, among the top brass.” The other could see he was slowly shaking his head. “This launch date has been bandied about for several months now. I wanted to be up here when it happens.”

The man moved closer. “Why?”

“Don’t know really. I should be down there now, still on shift. It’s probably something to do with being outside of it all. Not being a part of the evil of it.” He looked the man full in the face and said, “Once this thing goes nuclear, some say it’ll be all over in a day or two, some say only hours.”

The man didn’t know what to say.

The watcher asked, “Family?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you have family?”

“Oh! Yes, two boys; and a dog of course!”

“I don’t, not really. Only my old dad… in a nursing home now. There’s just me.”

The dog started to pull on the lead. “OK. We’d better be off now. You take care.”

“Thank you, I will.” After a beat, he said, “We all will.”

Halfway across the field, he saw it. He held the lead tighter and turned to watch it.

The first great fiery streak, slowly rising up into a clear night sky.

His biggest downfall as an accountant was his tendency to generalise.

Whereas this is generally acceptable in literature, meaning that you can shuffle words around in a cavalier manner and get away with-it; not so with accountancy. Not so with numbers. After all, it’s reasonable to assume that a person having an accountant to look over their business or to figure out how much tax they owe the government, would expect a certain preciseness. A certain amount of striving towards the highest level of accuracy. This was something that his employers seemed to take quite seriously. He obviously never saw it that way. His method of accounting seemed to be derived from the notion that numbers were in some way malleable.

Despite the fact that he’d passed all the exams and had a thorough knowledge of modern day accounting practices, this didn’t stop him regarding the odd wild guess as perfectly normal. He didn’t see why he shouldn’t take a bit of a punt now and again. After all, when his report was passed on to the client they would appreciate that the detailed workings were so complex that they would have no chance of picking up any discrepancies. His view on this was that if they could, they’d be an accountant. Eventually, his fuzzy logic approach to dealing with other people’s financial assets caught up with him. So, after a heated debate regarding his work ethics, a slap on the wrist, and agreeing to avoid playing any future part in his qualified calling, he moved on.

As it happens, he found his true calling as the regular bingo caller at the local community hall, three times a week. There could be no doubt that generating and calling out completely random numbers in a totally unpredictable sequence was his idea of pure heaven.

There was simply no accounting for it.

Go figure!

He thought he was the last to leave the office and was going around switching off lights.

She turned the corner and collided with him. It was not a hard impact, but he instantly saw stars. He stood gaping for a long time while his vision cleared. He was looking into the eyes of an angel! She was a twenty-something beauty, looking like she had just stepped off a catwalk. This gorgeous creature stood smiling at him while his heart was beating so loudly he wondered if she could hear it. He remained still, just gawping. He was frozen.

She drew back. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”

He stood blinking at her with his mouth open. “Not at all, you… you’re a vision of loveliness! I’m not hurt, and if I was…”

She stopped him. “No. Not that. I mean I’m sorry that we touched.”

“I’m not! Not at all. I would gladly kneel down before you if you said we could touch again.” He dropped to one knee.

She chuckled, saying, “Please get up and let me explain.”

Her chuckle was to him the sound of a thousand violins, each one accompanied by a thousand tinkling bells. Looking up, he shook his head apologetically. He stood up immediately, saying, “Of course. Anything. Anything you say, my princess; you are the goddess that divine providence has allowed into my life; anything you say.”

“Let me explain.”

“No, my heavenly vision, you should never have to explain anything. Why… your presence alone tells me everything there is to know. It explains why the stars move the way they do, why Beethoven composed the Moonlight Sonata, why eagles soar and kittens purr.”

“It happened about a year ago”, she went on, “I found an ancient love spell on the Dark Web and made a mess of it, placing a curse on myself that I can’t undo.”

“But you are divine, how could you ever make a mess of anything?”

She sighed. “Thankfully, it doesn’t last long. It’ll wear off in a moment. When it does, you’ll see me as I really am.”

“But, I see you now, and you are the most…”

“No,” she said firmly, “What you see is an illusion, brought about by physical contact and designed to bring about a burning infatuation. You must have touched my hand; that’s what triggers it.”

He blinked a couple of times as she changed back to being a short, slightly overweight woman in her late forties. Nothing much to look at, he thought, but pleasant enough.

“It’s a hell of a thing to admit to,” she said, “it’s so embarrassing. I’ve never talked to anyone about it before. It’s why I do night cleaning; you know, to avoid people.”

“That’s incredible!” he stammered, with a look of astonishment.

“I know.” She said, blushing slightly.

“No, not that.”

“Well, I think it is.” She said, looking hurt. “I wish it wasn’t, but it is!”

He frowned. “Well, yes that, but… but what’s absolutely amazing is that we should have met at all.” He threw up his hands. “I mean, I have the same problem! Not exactly the same, but the results are identical. This must be the same spell or curse or whatever you want to call it.” A look of shame came over his face. “I got mine from an old guy who lives up the road from me. He claimed to be some sort of witch doctor, but he probably got it off the internet.”

“Oh!” was all she could say.

“Yes,” he went on, “I went back to see him to have it removed, but he couldn’t do it.”

“Goodness! As you say, amazing.”

He went on. “I’ve never been able to tell anyone either. I suppose I should think myself lucky. I don’t have to be as careful as you; mine is only activated if my hair is touched.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Go on,” he said, lowering his head sideways.

She hesitated for a moment, then stroked the hair just above his ear.

In an instant, he had become a handsome young man in his twenties; he could easily be a male fashion model. That’s when it started… she would go to the end of the world for him, she wanted them to be together to the end of time, she needed to spend forever in his company, she desperately pleaded with him to return her love.

It went on like this for a while until her sight blurred and he went back to being a gaunt looking, balding man of around fifty. Nothing special about him, but he did have a kindly look about him.

They both stood looking at each other for a long time.

Then, and with no hesitation at all, she stroked his hair and he took her hand.

She sat thinking about the relationship.

What was once something filled with enthusiasm, even passion, had now become a boring obsession. In short, she regarded the relationship as simply overly time consuming. She felt there had been a great deal of patience shown on her part. Some of the arrangements with regards to time and place had certainly not been the best. She had come very close to getting into trouble on a number of occasions, with only herself to blame if she’d been found out. She flushed at the thought. The embarrassment would have been dreadful!

She let out a heavy sigh, knowing that it really had become a form of mania. Anyway, it had to end sometime, right?

I’ve shown a lot of patience with you, she thought, as she moved to her home page and placed the cursor over the chosen icon.

With one click, it was gone.

She knew it was there, just below the surface.

It had been troubling her for more than a week as she went about her domestic chores. Every now and again she almost saw it, almost grabbed hold of it, but not quite. If only I had a clue, she thought, just an inkling, that’s all I would need. It’s just out of reach. I know there’s something there. It’s like some tune or a song that you hear, she thought, and you know it was used in a movie you’ve seen, but you can’t remember the name of the music or what film it was in. She tried not to think about it, put it completely out of her mind, that way it would probably pop back all on its own, but that hadn’t worked.

The only thing that she could be really sure of was it must be something… it was something just below the surface.

Once again he set up the player and settled back with the remote control.

He knew what to do; he could do it wearing a blindfold. For him, it was a regular trip back into the past. He started the machine. The whole holiday video went for over an hour and he was happy to watch the first forty-odd minutes before the part he was looking for came up. It was a wonderful honeymoon. The weather was perfect and the staff at the hotel made such a fuss about them being newlyweds that they couldn’t have ask for more. Scenes in the restaurant came up, followed by views of the street markets with their colourful lights and loud music, indicating that the section he needed came next. He sat further back in his chair and waited…

She was climbing out of the hotel’s pool when she looked up, wiping water away from her face. She gave a happy smile as she said, “How good is this? How long can it last, eh?” He hit the pause button. Her question and her face were frozen. He pressed the play button and watched as she stood towelling herself down. He dabbed at his eyes, then rewound. There she was, coming up the ladder, smiling and asking again. “How long can it last, eh?” He backed it up and played it again. Of course, he knew the answer to her question was ‘less than two weeks’. Only a couple of days after coming home. The man with the heart attack, his car running out of control and mounting the pavement. He knew all that, but it didn’t stop him wanting to hear her ask.

He wiped more tears away as he picked up the remote control.

Just once more, maybe…

The manager sat looking through the applications.

He knew he had to get it right. One badly placed employee could bring the business down big time. Especially when the team was made up of such a small group of people. He knows that each one of them needs to be good at what they do. He slowly read through the seven applications he’d received, now that the submission cut-off date had passed. It was always difficult finding someone that was ideal, when it was only based on the submitted paperwork. However, of these, three looked promising. He read them through again, placing the favoured applicant on top. He would let his subordinate take a look at them, after all, the man had been in the business a lot longer than he had. He caught sight of him and called him in.

“Just going over the applications we’ve received. Thought you might give me your thoughts.”

“Sure”. He sat down and dragged the pile across the desk. He tapped the top paper. “Your pick?”

“Yes. Well-presented and seems to fit our requirements.”

The other began to read. He spent more time on the one that had been put on the bottom. Occasionally looking up, the manager noticed this. “I had a job reading that one myself. Dreadful writing!”

The other was smiling.

The manager asked, “I don’t think we should waste our time with him.”

Still smiling, the other replied, “It just so happens that I know him.”

“You do?”

“Oh! Yes, indeed; quite well actually”

“What can you tell me about the man?”

“Ah! About the man… well, he’s the sort of chap that never seems to know what day it is, is never on time, is always losing things, never has a pen when he needs one, is late paying bills, never plans ahead, is late for appointments, is always running behind, forgets to return things he’s borrowed, loses his must-do lists, double-books appointments all the time, misses deadlines, never knows where his money goes, never prioritizes anything, never puts things back where they belong, often wears the wrong clothes for the weather, forgets to call people back, lets his inbox get overcrowded, usually arrives late for meetings, leaves most things until the last minute, regularly gets his signals crossed, and continually loses his phone.”

“Goodness gracious! We can discount him then.”

The other grinned. “I don’t think so.”

“Why ever not?”

“He’s one of the best pizza-makers I’ve ever come across.”

A completely different form of music was poised to take the world by storm.

Music lover, Kreshnik, commonly known as the mad pig-farmer from Prush, Albania, was the inventor of the boogentrosslehorn. This remarkable instrument was based on the more common booglinghorn, this itself being a timeworn folk instrument, traditionally used by goatherds. This formidable instrument consisted of a hollowed out tube, measuring a little over a meter, and made of wood. A series of seemingly random-placed holes were set either side of the mouthpiece. These allowed the player to vary the pitch of the notes being produced. As wind instruments go, it was found that the boogentrosslehorn was difficult to play, owing to the need to cover several holes at once while altering the way the lips are formed at the mouthpiece, in order to create the most interesting sounds.

Although originally invented by Kreshnik to entertain and sometimes pacify his pigs, a number of neighbouring music lovers attempted to fashion similar horns. This activity being more of a passing hobby as opposed to any serious attempt to promote the instrument to the rest of the world. Branching out beyond the rural duties of a pig farmer, Kreshnik spent a great deal of time reaching out to professional instrument makers. This was done in an attempt to have them reproduce, in a more marketable form, such as the addition of colourful motifs being displayed along the length of the instrument, in sufficient numbers to penetrate the market. These attempts to break into the world of selling his invention was made particularly challenging by having to negotiate his web research times with a fellow farmer who had an internet connection.

Looking further into the future, it was his hope that this ground-breaking instrument would eventually encourage avant-garde composers to write new music for it.

It never caught on.

The local policeman stood staring down at the body when the inspector arrived.

As he entered, he stood looking around. After a few words with the policeman, he wandered around. When the call came into the station, it was noted that the property where the death had occurred, on the outskirts of the village, was run down. The elderly owner was poor and hadn’t been able to maintain the cottage or the garden. He was seeing that for himself now, as he walked from room to room. There was very little furniture and a quick inspection of the pantry showed that there was hardly any food on the shelves. The constable, still patiently standing by the body, cleared his throat. The other seemed to become aware of his presence. He nodded and approached.

“Do we know the whereabouts of the house owner?”

“Up stairs, having a lie down, sir.” He looked happy to be asked something.

“Upset, I dare say.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, with enthusiasm, “she is rather old and I don’t think she is quite all there, if you get my meaning. I’ve had a look around myself,” at this point he looked down at the body, “and there’s nothing here for him to eat. You only have to look at him to see that he starved to death.”

The inspector shook his head and sighed. “I’m inclined to agree with you.” He knelt down. “No marks on the body, but I can see his ribs.”

The policeman added. “I’m just saying, sir, but I’m sure it wasn’t deliberate.”

“Who reported it?”

“The guy who has the bakery in the village reported it, apparently, the old girl went up there earlier to buy a loaf.”

“Did she now?”

“Yes, sir, although it was his wife who actually discovered the body. She just called in to visit the old girl this morning. She came in and this is what she found. Of course, she went back and told her husband and he phoned it in.”

The inspector stood up. “Do these creatures actually eat bread?”

“I believe they do, sir, but they prefer a bone.”

“I’m sure they do. Do we have the woman’s name?

The policeman opened his notebook. “Couldn’t get her first name… it seems she was only known as old Mother Hubbard.”

He got up early knowing that it was going to be a very busy day.

He had taken a lot of time off from work recently and his boss wasn’t happy about it. In fact, with the recent downturn in business he could very easily get laid off. Lateness and time off were frowned upon by the factory manager. It wasn’t uncommon for a worker to get the sack for persistent lateness. That’s why he was careful to make the second booking so close to the first in the morning. He felt that just asking for a morning off looked better than two separate work days. First up was a one hour consultation with the specialist. Then, thirty minutes later across town, his dental check-up. His appointment with the specialist had been made the year before, he couldn’t be late for that!

The first thing he found was in the mail, a card saying an urgent parcel could not be delivered as no one was in and it had to be picked up from the depot. Well, that can wait, he thought, the specialist comes first. The second thing that happened was discovering that his pet hamster had escaped when he went to feed it. He spent half an hour looking for it, then gave up. He’d find it later, the specialist comes first. The third thing that threatened to disrupt his plans was when the toilet blocked. He’d call the plumber later, the specialist comes first. He kept looking at the clock.

When he finally came to leave, he found his car wouldn’t start. He’d have to call for assistance, but he didn’t have time for that. Knowing that the bus drivers were on strike he knew the only way was to cycle into town. He went out to the shed and found his old bike. He got it out, but found that both tyres were flat. Back in the shed he searched, but found that the pump was missing. Back in the house, and growing more desperate, he stood looking at the clock. He estimated that it would take him around forty minutes to walk to town and still make it in time for his first appointment.

He locked the house and began walking. Working the timing out again in his head he realised that it would be cutting it fine. He decided to phone ahead to indicate that he had car trouble, but was on his way and would do his best to arrive on time. Taking out his cell phone, he discovered it had a flat battery. He had plugged it in to charge it the night before, but the cable had not connected properly…

What happened next can safely be taken as read. The fact is, it had never before occurred to him just how much he relied on his phone. He had missed three important text messages that morning.

The first, from the specialist’s rooms, to cancel the appointment as the surgeon had been taken ill. The second, from the dental practice’s receptionist, postponing the day’s appointments because the dentist was away dealing with his sick child. The third, to all staff, advising that the factory was temporarily closed, owing to a fire in the building…