Passport - check, books - check, sunscreen - check. I'm ready

Hello my lovely readers,

Where does the time go eh? Where? It has been too long since I last posted and I know you've been missing me, but worry no longer, because I'M BACK!

*cue wild cheers from the audience*

Thank you, thank you, alright settle down. Especially you lot at the back.

Right, I hear you cry, so what is this one going to be about then?

Well I'm going on holiday tomorrow. Yay!
Yes, my dear reader, I shall be once again jetting off to foreign climes for a week of sun, sea, sand and relaxation. In Zante. It will be tough, so very tough, but I'll will give  'enjoying myself even if I won't have the slightest idea who I'll be holidaying with' my best shot.

Yes, you read that last bit right. I don't know who will be accompanying me on this week.

*hushed mummuring from the crowd*

Because it's a Solos holiday and what basically happens is that a load of single people go on holiday and hope to hell there is at least one other person in the group they can talk to. I mean there is a forum you can use to see who is going, but it's not the same thing is it?

Plus this isn't the first time I've been on a Solos trip. Oh no, my dear reader, this will be my sixth vacation with them. So far there have been no problems so I should be fine. I've got my kindle (and a couple of books in case something happens to said kindle), ipod and there are plenty of bars. But, as everyone will be there to have a good time, I'm sure it will be great.

Now I know what you're thinking: Holiday romances.
Well, we'll see. I've seen them happen. I've got friendly with a couple of ladies in the past (keep it clean, you lot at the back)
Will this be the year? Will there be a lady on the Manchester flight that is destined to be mine? (I'm hoping for the Manchester flight because, lets face it, the London flight makes things more complicated). Will I meet my 'impossible' girl who will want to come and have adventures through time and space with me? (You can make up your own jokes about sonic screwdrivers, this is a family show).

Or will they hear the words "I like Doctor Who" and run like hell?

Nobody knows. Not even me. Well alright, The Doctor might know but I haven't seen the TARDIS round these here parts so I guess he ain't telling.

So for now, I'll just have to go to Manchester airport in the small hours of Sunday morning, get through security and see what happens.

So, I'll leave you now. Lets face it, this packing ain't going to do itself. But I shall return, my dear reader, yes I shall return with the second part of this blog and tell you all about it.

Ta ta for now.

Giving Chester a boost (hopefully!)

Well hello my lovely little readers.

Yes I'm back to bring you more joy and happiness from within the black and souless void that is the internet.

So what's been happening I hear you cry.

I'm helping to bring a bit of culture to the streets of Chester. Well when I say I'm helping I mean got volunteered to help. And when I say I'm helping I mean I'm writing micro-plays.

Yes, in the next couple of weeks I shall be straining every creative sinew to create some pieces that will be performed in a bar somewhere in Chester. And not just one either. No no no... that would be too easy. No, my friend, I'm doing a two or three of these buggers. Now I've got ideas. Slowly forming in my mind.

But why am I doing this?

Chester needs a cultural boost. A bit of a shot in the arm. To let it know that someone still wants these things to happen.

It will be small. It will be low-key. But who knows where it will go from here. After all, from small acorns grow great oaks.

We can but try.

ta ta for now

Is it November yet?

Well hello my lovely readers.

Guess you've been wondering where I have been. I mean, doesn't time fly when you're having fun?

Well no not really. But it has been a couple of weeks so what have I been doing?

In short, my dear reader, I've been doing sod all except the usual routine mundane things in life like working, sleeping, eating, trying to talk to girls etc etc etc.

And of course one of those routine things is watching the odd tv show. Do you often wonder how much of an impact the television has on our lives. I mean, I don't watch much and I'm very selective about the type of shows that I do follow. I rarely watch ITV on a Saturday night for example. Its just not my cup of tea.

As you may know though, a show that is very much my cup of tea is Doctor Who and the season finale was on last night. So at seven pm I was there as the latest adventure of the time travelling madman in the blue box began to unfold. The last adventure before November. Which for those that don't know is a very special occasion as it's the 50th anniversary of when the show first started. And, to be honest dear reader, I sat down last night with a small amount of trepidation.

But why I hear you ask.

Well this run of 8 episodes which have made this second half of series 7 of new Doctor Who (its been spilt into two halves you see. The first half ended the departure of Amy Pond *sniff*) has had something missing. It has not been firing on all cylinders. The writing hasn't quite been as top notch as it was before Christmas. I didn't quite believe the relationship between The Doctor and Clara as much as that of The Doctor and Amy (and Rory).

And last nights episode secrets were to be revealed. Important secrets.  It was going to be a big episode. It had to be done right.

And it was.

It was absolutely, incredibly, jaw droppingly excellent. I'm not going to give anything away (spoilers!) but it paid off the mystery of Clara (the impossible girl) brilliantly and set up something that left me and every other Doctor Who fan wishing it was November NOW.

But we'll just have to wait patiently as the wheel of time turns slowly onward and the future becomes the present and then becomes the past.

But...

Is it November yet?

Ta ta for now.

3rd entry in Room 101

Well hello my dear readers.

And welcome back to my little corner of the universe. You have come back right? Right?

Hello, Hello?!
Oh there you are. Good. Thought you had wandered off for a minute.

So, I here you ask, what is next to be put into room 101 and oblivion? What is going to join the first two entries? What ranks alongside text speak and Valentine's day as being so awful that it deserves to be obliterated from the face of this earth?

Well it's this:

Action Figures

Now don't get me wrong. I like the show Doctor Who as you well know. I like a lot of science fiction shows. But the action figures...WHY?

Now you may of heard of a shop called Forbidden Planet. And if you have ever been to the Manchester outlet you will have seen that the place is wall to wall full of these plastic abominations. I mean, seriously, what are you supposed to do with them?
And not just Doctor Who either. No sir. We're talking Star Trek, Star Wars, Stargate and probably a few other things with the word 'Star' in the title. I mean, am I supposed to display in my bedroom or something. Is it a way of saying 'yes i love this show and, to demonstrate my love for the show, I'm going to have a shelf full of six inch long pieces of plastic crap that may or may not look like the character they are supposed to represent'? And I'm not saying that all the various mechandise is crap. I mean, ok, most of it is but there are exceptions. The books are reasonable. They tend to be what I call 'candy floss books' in that you can read them but don't read too many of they will rot your mind.I like the audio cds for the shows (especially the Big Finish Doctor Who releases).

But the figures...

I just don't get it.

So they are going in to Room 101!
(Hey, its my blog, so my rules)

Secrets - A flash fiction piece

Well hello to you my lovely readers.

And here we are again. I was going to say on a wonderfully sunny Sunday afternoon. Except it started raining a little time ago so it's now a wet Sunday afternoon. Still, you can't have everything

So I guess you've logged on to see what utter drivel I've come up with this time haven't you. Well, you won't be disappointed.

Right then. Most Friday's I, along with a couple of writer friends, go to  a random word generator website. The word we are each then given forms the basis of a story we then go away and write if we get inspired or, in reality, have the time to do. This Friday the word I got was:

Fountain.

As you will see what came out has very little to do with a fountain. Although it does in a way I suppose. I use these exercises as a way of experimenting with different styles and ways of writing. Some work, some don't. I did consider adding a last line but after reading this through thought better of it. I think the ending works as it is.

Ta ta for now

***

Secrets

An old man sits beneath an oak tree, the breeze gently cooling his face in the hot sun. He watches the people who have come from miles around just to view the statue of the princess. They come from the various kingdoms of the land and from far across the seas just for one glimpse of the fragile perfection. Some will stare for hours at the delicate carvings debating the pose and expression on her face. She is wistful they would say. She is dreaming some say, others that she is sad. Some just want to see and admire the exquisite workmanship, the subtle lines and curves of her face and hair cascading over her shoulders. Some even throw coins into the ice cool, clear waters of the surrounding fountain. Such a treasure, they say, could only have been sculpted from true love. Hence it must bring good fortune and luck to those that make a wish to it.  Standing in the immaculate rose gardens in the old king’s palace, it stands as a tribute. Though the king is no longer there, the palace is kept in all its splendour for the visitors who visit daily to marvel at the wealth and magnificent opulence. But it is the statue and the fountain surrounding it that they will remember when they leave. Built from a solid block of marble the sculptor had spent ten years of his life working on the piece, carefully chipping away at the stone with the most delicate of touches. He could not be rushed, harried, forced or coerced into working faster. Sometimes he would not touch it for days, weeks even months at a time. My hands cannot achieve perfection at this time so I cannot work he would say, his tears glistening like diamonds in the sunlight as he gazed upon his slowly forming masterpiece.

Now it stands in the garden and only the old man knows her thoughts, for they are his thoughts as well. A true love they say, and he smiles a sad smile, for he knows they are right. It was a true and perfect love. But it was also a love that could not be. A love between royalty and a commoner. A love between a princess and a sculptor.

You'll Never Walk Alone

Hello my dear reader friends,

You may be wondering what this blog will be about. Well, it's a serious one.

24 years today, 96 Liverpool fans went off to the FA Cup semi final between their team and Nottingham Forest and did not return home. They will not be forgotten.
Some of you who know me will know that I don't support either of those teams. In fact, I support Liverpool's neighbours and biggest rivals Everton.

Now:

There is the rivalry between the two sides.
They want us to lose every game and we want them to lose every game

There is banter between the two sides.  There are the jokes about one team said by the other and vice versa.

The following is a text conversation from I had on Saturday with a Liverpool supporting fan. Everton had beaten relegation candidates QPR 2-0 while Liverpool had drawn 0-0 with another relegation threatened tean, Reading.

Helen: You've been restrained with any abuse over the football

Me: Would have been like shooting fish in a barrel! 5 points and a game in hand ;)

Helen: I retract my previous statement haha. U wait, Liverpool will have an amazing finish, Everton will eat our dust.

Me: I'm sure seventh will seem like a great finish. It wouldn't be that good if you were Everton mnd you. Higher standards you see. :)

I'm sure similar conversations were had between Everton and Liverpool fans all that evening. Actually ours is probably rather restrained

But here's the thing:

When things like this happen to either Everton or Liverpool, the two sides unite. When one gets knocked down, the other picks them up, dusts them down and will say "right, you've got both of us to deal with now".
The recent Hillsborough charity single sums it all up with the title : 'He ain't heavy, he's my brother'. (The idea for which came from the song being played at Everton's ground when a report on the disaster was released which exonerated the fans.)
I was on holiday in Tunisia a few years ago. It was a Solo's holiday so there were single people from all over the country. One evening we were all having dinner and another chap and I were happily chatting away and getting to know each other and we got talking about football. I found out he supported Tottenham and he was told about me following Everton. He then asked me about the Everton-Liverpool thing and whether I had any friends who were reds. He seemed genuinely surprised that I had good friends who were reds. He told me that he didn't think he would have any mates who were followers of their rivals Arsenal. Their's is a bitter rivalry and while I  said the Everton-Liverpool rivalry could get pretty cutting at times, it was easily the 'friendliest' bitter rivalry in football that I knew of. Maybe things are different down in London, I don't know.

I don't know what this means, and my words are probably very poor, other than that when it gets tough then the two sets of fans become one.
But from this one blue to all and any reds reading this, let me just say:

You'll never walk alone.

Like Ships That Pass In The Night - Part 7 (The final episode)

Well hello to you my rather excellent readers,

I hope you are all well. More to the point I hope you are still here and haven't gone off with some other floozy of a blog. They're not as good as this one. Really they're not. Can any of the others say it was lovingly created form these very fingers. Scrutinised in order to bring you this level of perfection. Don't just throw this stuff together in about fiver minutes you know. Oh no. Not at all. No.

Now, my dear reader, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Not this blog I hasten to add. Hell no, you're not getting rid of me that easily no matter how much you want to. Don't think I didn't see through that name change or change of address.

No, I'm talking about what you are about to read next. The final episode of the flash fiction series 'Like Ships That Pass In The Night'. Yes, it really is here. It's the end.

But why, I hear you cry.

Well reader, it's time had come. And to be fair there was only so long this type of work can go on before you'll be screaming 'enough! Just get them together or have him die under a train for God's sake'. (Hollywood, please take note).

So here it is. I had the ending in my head for quite some time and this seemed to be the best point to end it. In fact I knew I didn't want to drag it too long right from the start when I decided to turn it into a series. Leave them wanting more as they say. So I hope I leave Anthony and Charlotte with an ending but also with you wanting more. If that makes sense. Which it probably doesn't. So, now you get to read it.

Enjoy. And let me know what you think of it.

Ta ta for now.
----

Like Ships That Pass In The Night.

Part 7

“Moments”

Anthony stands alone in the centre of the station concourse. He has a good half hour before the train he needs to catch arrives at the station. The morning is a bright sunny one now that spring is in full bloom. He has put away his long heavy winter coat and is now wearing a dark blue jacket. People pass him by, either not noticing the lone man standing there or, at the most acknowledging him with a brief nod before they continue on their way.

***

Charlotte crosses the road. The sun warms her face as she steps from the shade into the light and she can feel the temperature difference immediately. Passing a few shop keepers opening for the day she greets them with a quiet, but cheerful ‘Good Morning’ as she makes her along the street. An elderly man, bringing out flowers to display outside the front of his florist shop offers her a rose. Cheerfully he places it carefully in a button hole on her light brown coat as she smiles and thanks him. She turns a corner and looks down the slight slope the few hundred yards towards the station in the distance.

            ***

Anthony watches the displays of arrivals and departures as the place names slowly change with each train that comes and goes from the station. He briefly begins to wonder if this is mistake. If he is wrong is to do what he wants to do. He wonders if he should walk away and forget everything that has happened but then he thinks about Charlotte and he knows he wants to stay

***

Charlotte walks down the road, the entrance to the station getting ever closer. She feels herself becoming nervous, her heart beating that little bit faster. Pausing momentarily and looking towards the clear blue sky she considers turning around, heading back home and phoning in sick. No she decides. Putting one foot in front of the other, she continues on her way.

***

Anthony eye’s are now on the entrance to the station. In ten minutes his train will arrive and his chance will have gone. He looks down at his shoes before returning his gaze towards the archway. Then she appears and he watches as she goes to the ticket machine. His heart is in his mouth as she collects her tickets. She looks around but sees no one at first. Until…

***

For both of them it’s almost as if time then stands still. Anthony can feel his heart beating hard: Charlotte can hear hers. Slowly they make their way towards each other. They stand silently, neither knowing what to say but neither wanting to spoil the moment. He holds out his hand. She sees he is holding out a cup

“I thought you would like a coffee. It’s a skinny latte,” He says quietly

“Thank you. Very thoughtful” she replies.

She smiles the shy smile that he saw the first time. The smile he will see every day from that moment on.