31/01/2017
30/01/2017
29/01/2017
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27/01/2017
26/01/2017
#amwriting #shortstory - The Delivery Man
The Delivery Man
By ten past, the train was still late.
Lucas sat in the station cafe contemplating the film of tea now forming milk patterns in the bottom of the lime green cup. His toes tapping idly against the cool-box under the table.
The man at the table to his left apologised for the third time for the overly inquisitive spaniel, who had taken rather too much interest in the box's content.
Three hundred quid, is three hundred quid. But, time was getting tight if he wanted to get paid; and the attentions of the dog was beginning to play upon Lucas' imagination.
In an effort at distraction Lucas picked his way around the coffee stains and grease of the abandoned newspaper. But, guilt pricked him, and poked him, until eventually he found the excuse of a droplet of water at the farthest corner of the box to spur himself into action.
With snakelike guile he slithered past the lip of the table on the pretence of tying his shoelace. However he could obtain no conclusive proof, as he caught the gleaming eye of the dog who sprang forward with tail wagging.
Again the owner apologised, and again Lucas settled into the guilty nonchalance of checking his phone. His foot once more tapping at the cool box. And, again the station announcement apologised for the delays: due to an incident on the line.
Clearly a suicide, or some other act of selfishness, thought Lucas. In a further moment of lucid incisiveness he decided the now dried spot of water was melted snow that had fallen from the shoe of a passing stranger.
Thus satisfied, he drained the final dreg of tea, patted down his pockets, and all present and correct he set off, with the box, to find a bench in the open air of the platform: in the cold.
By ten past, the train was still late.
Lucas sat in the station cafe contemplating the film of tea now forming milk patterns in the bottom of the lime green cup. His toes tapping idly against the cool-box under the table.
The man at the table to his left apologised for the third time for the overly inquisitive spaniel, who had taken rather too much interest in the box's content.
Three hundred quid, is three hundred quid. But, time was getting tight if he wanted to get paid; and the attentions of the dog was beginning to play upon Lucas' imagination.
In an effort at distraction Lucas picked his way around the coffee stains and grease of the abandoned newspaper. But, guilt pricked him, and poked him, until eventually he found the excuse of a droplet of water at the farthest corner of the box to spur himself into action.
With snakelike guile he slithered past the lip of the table on the pretence of tying his shoelace. However he could obtain no conclusive proof, as he caught the gleaming eye of the dog who sprang forward with tail wagging.
Again the owner apologised, and again Lucas settled into the guilty nonchalance of checking his phone. His foot once more tapping at the cool box. And, again the station announcement apologised for the delays: due to an incident on the line.
Clearly a suicide, or some other act of selfishness, thought Lucas. In a further moment of lucid incisiveness he decided the now dried spot of water was melted snow that had fallen from the shoe of a passing stranger.
Thus satisfied, he drained the final dreg of tea, patted down his pockets, and all present and correct he set off, with the box, to find a bench in the open air of the platform: in the cold.
25/01/2017
24/01/2017
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21/01/2017
20/01/2017
19/01/2017
18/01/2017
#amwriting - A Letter to Charles Ortel in the Style of the Ladies Number 1 Detective Agency
Dear Mr Charles
Further to our correspondence of the 21st, I want to apologise for not replying sooner but I have been most busy with a very important divorce case.
Dr Mkazi is no longer employed at the Sunshine Clinic. Everybody told me that he had gone to Germany, but I learned from his Uncle Samuel that he is actually working in a nearby village on the estate of Mr Vazam.
I suspect the reason for the tale of his going to Germany is the disgrace his family feel at his no longer being a medical doctor. His Uncle Samuel would not say so with precision. I did not press his uncle's new wife on pertaining matters, as she is a slip of a girl, and I don't think she could have been more than a child when proceeding occurred.
Mr Vazam is an Indian gentleman with interests in the mining industry. I did not obtain access to his person, but I can assure you he is a man of good taste, he drives a BMW, and I do not believe he has involvement in the case: beyond his current employment of Dr Mkazi.
From the post office I have learned that Mr Vazam receives a lot of letters from a legal firm in Bombay. I have included photocopies of these letters that were awaiting delivery, so you may know the name of the firm from their embossed envelopes. I have further asked my friend the post-master to keep a record of correspondence. To which end I have provided him with a special notebook - invoice included - the book is a legal pad, and will therefore be acceptable in evidence in the event of legal proceeding.
Dr Mkazi is no longer calling himself doctor, and at present works in the farm office. His is employed in accounting and the payment of remittance.
I have managed to find three others in the district who took the drugs. Their families all deny they were infected. As I explained, on other occasions, such an admission would affect the marriage prospects of their other children. One mother told me her daughter was taking the medicine purely as a prophylactic.I realise I should not say this, as your people will think me rude, but this woman is very stupid. All the people in her village know her daughter died of AIDS. You may read it upon the death certificate, which I have obtained - invoice included - from my usual sources.
My calculation is that the number off people in this district who have died is 16: 3 from drug poisoning and the others not.
I have been unable to find the girl called Tabitha, in the photograph with Mr Clinton. I have heard rumours that she was eaten by a crocodile, but I cannot confirm this.
I shall be going to Serowe at the end of the month. Obviously I will pass back any information I gain from my cousin at the bank.
Yours
documents and invoice attached.
Further to our correspondence of the 21st, I want to apologise for not replying sooner but I have been most busy with a very important divorce case.
Dr Mkazi is no longer employed at the Sunshine Clinic. Everybody told me that he had gone to Germany, but I learned from his Uncle Samuel that he is actually working in a nearby village on the estate of Mr Vazam.
I suspect the reason for the tale of his going to Germany is the disgrace his family feel at his no longer being a medical doctor. His Uncle Samuel would not say so with precision. I did not press his uncle's new wife on pertaining matters, as she is a slip of a girl, and I don't think she could have been more than a child when proceeding occurred.
Mr Vazam is an Indian gentleman with interests in the mining industry. I did not obtain access to his person, but I can assure you he is a man of good taste, he drives a BMW, and I do not believe he has involvement in the case: beyond his current employment of Dr Mkazi.
From the post office I have learned that Mr Vazam receives a lot of letters from a legal firm in Bombay. I have included photocopies of these letters that were awaiting delivery, so you may know the name of the firm from their embossed envelopes. I have further asked my friend the post-master to keep a record of correspondence. To which end I have provided him with a special notebook - invoice included - the book is a legal pad, and will therefore be acceptable in evidence in the event of legal proceeding.
Dr Mkazi is no longer calling himself doctor, and at present works in the farm office. His is employed in accounting and the payment of remittance.
I have managed to find three others in the district who took the drugs. Their families all deny they were infected. As I explained, on other occasions, such an admission would affect the marriage prospects of their other children. One mother told me her daughter was taking the medicine purely as a prophylactic.I realise I should not say this, as your people will think me rude, but this woman is very stupid. All the people in her village know her daughter died of AIDS. You may read it upon the death certificate, which I have obtained - invoice included - from my usual sources.
My calculation is that the number off people in this district who have died is 16: 3 from drug poisoning and the others not.
I have been unable to find the girl called Tabitha, in the photograph with Mr Clinton. I have heard rumours that she was eaten by a crocodile, but I cannot confirm this.
I shall be going to Serowe at the end of the month. Obviously I will pass back any information I gain from my cousin at the bank.
Yours
documents and invoice attached.
17/01/2017
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04/01/2017
#amwriting #poetry #poem - After, Napoleon Crossing the Alps by Jacques-Louis David
After, Napoleon Crossing the Alps, by Jacques-Louis David
In wrapped in red, to drive him south
pulled by the compass caisson wheel;
sky points he marks unconquered foes,
onward, upward, on he goes.
And all the world swirls fallow now
encaught new bright in fire glow;
translates into the restless mane,
onward, forward, on he goes.
What of that face so boyish still
that tames the eye's unruly roll;
serenely stern, when bold at arms,
onward, onward, onward go.
03/01/2017
02/01/2017
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