Time to kill

Nanny was waiting by the door and hurried the child inside the porch.

‘What time do you call this?’ she said. ‘It’s way past your bedtime. Where have you been?

‘On the..the..viaduct.’ said Damian.

‘On the what?’ said Nanny.

‘The..the..v.v.viaduct,’ said Damian.

‘I’ve told you time and time again not to go there. What on earth were you up to?’

‘M.m.making a sacrifice,’ said Damian.

‘A what?’ said Nanny

‘A s.s.sacrifice,’ said Damian.

‘What kind if sacrifice?’ said Nanny.

‘A m.m.mus. c.c.cul..a.ar sacrifice,’ said Damian turning round

‘Whatever do you mean? Spit it out,’ said Nanny.

Damian’s eyes glazed over as confidence became diction.

‘Must kill her, must kill her, must kill her,…’

Nanny saw a carving knife flash in the moonlight and then nothing more.





The race


Running, running in a race

Faster, faster feels the pace

Cut through the water

Over the blocked path

Breathless push now up the hill

Only a few miles to go

Nearer then against the foe

Positioning at the top men

Getting right beside them

Seeing the last klick coming

Concentrating on the running

Last few hundred now in sight

Powering home to win the fight


free time blues

I heard that there were
under-dressed waitresses
but no floozies in the jacuzzi
all very strange stuff for you
so I’ve come out and see
you making up for lost time
and took an early arrival
to catch you out for sure
all alone in the wilds in
a log cabin in the forest
no jazz in the art gallery
no punk in the basement
just you strumming on the porch
singing out to the creatures around
I looked on and smiled
then I went straight home



Nakami’s mind was racing as he sat on the station bench. Could he do it, or was still too scared? He knew deep down it was his chance for freedom, but could he pull the trigger and make it to the platform’s edge? He counted the minutes. It didn’t help.

He fumbled in his pocket and took it out. Few noticed him in the crowded waiting mass. He examined the instrument of his future with care; every detail was checked. He knew it was fine, but repeated the process over and over.

Nakami felt the crowd move back from the platform edge and knew that his point of decision was close. He stood up. He was taller than the others and could easily see the slowing train approach the station.


As he moved forward his sweating hands gripped it hard. He looked at it again for the last time and, with his head held high, moved towards the stopping train. A conductor barred his way. Nakami raised his hand and released the ticket. Still in a sweat he boarded the train.

“The train to Kyoto is leaving from Platform 2,” said the announcement.