‘So tell me what we’re looking at?’ Amelia sighed, rattling her pen against the plastic clipboard. Her one day off all month and something finally happens! She shook her head; it was typical, bloody typical. Next to the cordoned area Grace crouched with the tails of her lab coat tucked up behind her hips, lips pursed into a small crinkle of dark red gloss as she worried the giga counter between her hands. ‘I’m not sure,” she admitted with a small shrug. ‘It looks…’ she paused, perfect white teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Amelia shivered and turned her gaze back to her forms. ‘Well it doesn’t look man-made,’ Grace finished, pushing off with the balls of her feet and rising gracefully. Turning away from the mess of molten crystal embedded in the far corner of St. Gregory’s car park she frowned at the gaggle of hospital night staff still meandering around just behind Amelia. ‘Do you want me to tell them to move the cordon back?” asked Amelia, glancing in the same direction and …
[Photo Copyright – Jennifer Pendergast] “You should read Chaucer,” advised Edward, folding in on himself smoothly as he moved to sit next to Ellie on the grass outside Castle. She snorted softly and closed the book in her lap, slipping it back into her satchel before he could see the title.“Don’t you get bored lurking around here?” she asked. “You’ve been around how long?”Edward shook his head.“Why would I? There’s always someone interesting lurking also,” he shrugged.Chuckling, Ellie brushed a stray leaf from her skirt and smiled.“You’re an odd one you know.”Edward grinned.“Said one ghost to another.” I’m not sure how I feel about this week’s entry. I’ve been out of the game for a few weeks and I think I’ve gone a little rusty. Oh well. It’s probably just a matter of getting back into practice.
“You’ve never asked my name?” she said, head tipped back and eyes on the cracked ceiling. “Then again I’ve never asked yours.” Jamie frowned, eyebrows scurrying to knit together as the lax, loose-jaw gaze puckered and pulled into something close to concentration. “What?” he croaked, spittle catching on chapped lips. “I mean it’s not your fault,” she continued. “It’s not as if you’re the only one who doesn’t ask. No one does. They all think they already know.” “I-” She waved a hand, fingers blurring across Jamie’s vision and whisking away whatever words he’d been about to attempt. “Hush now,” she soothed. “It doesn’t matter anymore does it? Hum? I’m not going to niggle you about something as silly as a name. Why should I? It’s not my job!” Jamie’s chin dropped, thudding against his chest. “I know what my job is,” she carried on. “I’m here to be used.”
“Emerald City, second race,” Linda said, circling the horse’s name on the race card before looking up to see who Jason had picked. “You sure about that one?” he asked, features creasing into a frown as he leaned over. His own race card lay open on his lap, jottings all along the outside margins as he checked form and history for the ‘sure thing’. “Like you would know,” Linda huffed. “At least I pick the way you’re meant to,” Jason said. “You only think you do,” Linda replied, lips twisting upwards. “Tell me, when was the last time you won?”
“I was his, well you know, his companion I guess.” “His companion?” “Yeah, I kept him out of trouble, gave him someone to talk to, an extra set of hands for shifting luggage about when he was travelling.” “I still don’t get it.” “Neither did I, but his sister tried to explain it once, something about needing a person to show you love without being in love with you.”
“You know that will-” “No it fucking won’t,” I snap, leaving the withered old prune of a woman showing the whole bus-stop her knackered teeth. Eighty-four, arthritic and clean for fifty odd years. She was lucky, had a girlfriend who dragged her out of the crack house and to a hospital before the heroin overdose could kill her. Didn’t mean I wanted her telling me that the fags were going to do me in. It would be like me telling her that the number thirty-eight would have her on her back next week and no amount of emergency response would get her heart going again. Except in her case I’d be right and people tend to be a bit touchy when you tell them the deadlines on its way. “Sorry,” I tell her. “Job’s starting to get to me.” The ‘o’ shape of her mouth is now some puckered version of what once was a pretty impressive scowl. Still is to a certain degree, but you get use that after a hundred years or so. …
It took us a while to get use to the bears. I mean really, one can hardly expect for such a creature to approach you in the street and start commenting on how dreary the weather is for this time of year. Except that was exactly what happened and it almost cost me my bus as I stood there spluttering for a response. Sunshine in November, dreary my foot! I was lost for words if you’ll believe it. Well I don’t suppose it matters if you do or you don’t, talking bears or loss of words. However I assure you that this is the god’s honest truth, or at least my honest truth since I don’t even know if you believe in a god or not. I suppose you’ll have some sort of preference. I rather like Minerva, never mind if I believe in the Roman deity. But she does have a certain feminist pull, and I never can resist a strong woman in myth or history. They always demand attention and perhaps a little …
She’d been taught that interrupting was rude, but if she hadn’t that genie would have still been yammering on about choosing carefully. She had chosen carefully. She’d spent the last thirty-five years considering this very choice and she wasn’t wasting another second. “Give me the keyboard to my life,” she said. “I’ve got some editing to do.”
Somewhere else you said, as if we could drop it all and not miss the shards.
We walked among roses and he spoke of Paris, of Florence and Venice, of worlds we would travel. We walked among roses until thorns turned to claws and flowers were beautiful no more.