The Merry-Go-Round

Unceremoniously we are placed aboard by unseen hands. Our eyes still closed we grab on instinctively as we and everything else spins round at terrifying velocities. 

Cautiously we open our eyes and the lights dazzle us then, noticing meaning within the seeming chaos; patterns and colours and faces and things, the fear slowly recedes.

Incrementally we start to make sense of things. Then just as we are beginning to almost feel at home amid the great spinning absurdness of it all, our senses and faculties of mind commence to fail and the fear returns. 

Inevitably our bony fingers lose their grip and we are flung from the contraption, our body fuelling the rapid revolutions of the next passenger.

The Party

"Oh it's not that you're interesting" she explained "you're just the least boring."

Great Dialogue

I said something then they said something then I said something else then the conversation sort of came to an end.

A Literary End

The secret death-wish of all novelists: to be squashed beautifully by a pallet of pristine blank A4 paper.