A Bird In The Hand…

*Wait! Was scenario D created especially with me in mind, Clicky? …/sips coffee…*

*And what is eternity? …/lights up…*

*/drags… To know Death… /plumes smoke… Interesting… /flicks ash… And synchy…*

Welcome, Dear Reader. I’m very excited as I will be on leave next week. Not that I’ll be going anywhere – nobody is – but I will be spending my time writing…

*I need to be really disciplined about it, Clicky…*

*Indeed, I have two stories in mind. One about Death and the other about Harry…*

*Oh, it’s been totally maddening, Clicky… /smokes contentedly… Thinking about them all year…*

*Well, quite. That’s been the problem…*

*Alright bossy boots… /stubs butt… Jeez…*

…So I shan’t be about much this week. But no doubt Clicky will pop in if anything post-worthy occurs…

Have a Song ❤

CLICK5: Evilly Does It

Story Time: Facing Eternity

*Leggy wrote a post on nanobots, Clicky? /lights up and smokes… I heard mention of those in a new vid from Lashy just last night…*

We have a little treat for you, Dear Reader, on this cold January day. My good friend Leggy, a.k.a H.K. Hillman, has agreed the LoL can post a story from Fears Of The Old And The New, his collection of short horror yarns. It’s relatively tiny but really packs a punch 😉

Enjoy! ❤

*True – Leggy does live in the Scottish Highlands… /thinks… And he’s got swords…*

*******

Facing Eternity

by H.K. Hillman

Nigel sat at the remains of his desk, idly twirling the paper-knife in the fingers of his left hand. With a swift motion he grasped it and thrust it through the palm of his right hand. His head pressed the high back of the chair as his body stiffened against the pain, his teeth clamped shut to avoid biting the end of his tongue. With a gasp, he forced his body to relax and looked at his shaking right hand.

Bright red life oozed from both sides, running along the blade and handle of the knife and forming crimson lines along his wrist. His face set into a grimace as he quickly pulled the blade free, then he sat sobbing as he watched the wound close, the flow trickle to a stop. As the last traces of his self-inflicted injury faded, he roughly wiped the blood from his hands onto his trousers. Standing, he walked to the shattered window, wiping the tears from his eyes with a wrinkled, filthy sleeve.

It had been his invention, his own work. Why should he share it? If he had told his supervisors they would simply have taken his idea and left him behind, alone and forgotten. He couldn’t let that happen. He had decided to keep his success secret until he could announce his invention himself. He would wait until the time was right.

He had tested his invention on himself, of course. Nigel recalled that day, months ago, when he had injected his microscopic robots into his veins. He remembered that first thrill as they set to work. His chest pains had vanished as his heart was healed. He had discarded his spectacles as his vision was restored. The arthritic ache in his shoulder simply disappeared. What an invention! He would be famous, or would have been.

Nigel felt tears returning to his eyes as he surveyed the desolation of the city. Four days ago – maybe more, Nigel wasn’t sure – nuclear Armageddon had arrived and everyone had left in a flash of radiation. Nigel could recall the pain as the wave of gamma-rays had followed the edge of the blast through his beautiful suburban house. His carefully tended garden had turned into a desert of brown, twisted stalks, although still in their perfectly ordered rows in the sterile soil.

He watched as the bulging wall of a distant building suddenly gave way, showering bricks and mortar onto the dust-obscured street below. The sound traversed the distance easily, unhindered in the silence of this dead world.

The flash had killed him, but it hadn’t killed his robots. He had no idea how long it had taken them, but they had repaired him. They had brought him back to life. He had invented more than just a medical dream. He had invented immortality.

If only he had told someone else.

*******

*Fantastic book, Clicky… /stubs butt… So’s ‘is uvver one…*

Catch you later, Dear Reader… And have a Song 😉

CLICK5: Goats and Tinge

CLICK5: On Christmas Mourn

A Little Writing Update…

Apols! I’ve been away from the LoL, Dear Reader, busy writing a short story for Underdog Anthology XII. Fortunately Clicky has been holding the fort, hopefully keeping you suitable entertained with his CLICK5 posts…

*I know you are, Clicky… /scrolls through list… Wow, and so many of them…*

I can confirm that my short story, ‘What Time Do You Finish?’ has been completed, submitted, accepted and edited…

*Yep, Death from ‘Waste Not, Want Not’ features in it, Clicky… /lights up… and this time ‘e brings ‘is mates…*

… And there is still time for me to write another one…

*That reminds me… /drags… I’ve still gotta mutilate Percy Bysshe Shelley for the Afterword… /smokes contentedly… ‘Aussie Madness’ seems more than fitting…*

*There will indeed by a full, blue moon on ‘alloween, Clicky… /winks…*

If I can get my arse into gear…

*You think I should write an ‘arry story, Clicky? …/flicks ash… About wot?*

*Interesting… /nods… That could work…*

Of course once the submission deadline for UAXII has passed, Dear Reader, I’ll be back with more shamble posts and hopefully some missives from Text US buddie, the Okie Devil himself, Cade Fon Apollyon. If you’ve been wondering what he’s been up to, Cade has a fantastic series of posts at his gaff exploring pareidolia…

*Heh. Workout shapes …/stubs butt…*

… Well worth a look-see. Until then, I will leave you in the capable fins of Library Assistant, Clicky…

… Have a Song ❤

Birthday Selfie With Click…

standing wave

*Oh hey, Clicky… /waves back… We ain’t gotta social distance, you daft dolphin, come ‘ere. Wot’s that you’ve got?*

*Jelly and eye screen? …/lights up… For my birthday? …/drags… Oh, fanks, Clicky…*

bumpy start

*No, I’m not feeling particularly blue… /plumes smoke… Though a lot people are… /shakes fist in rage… Damn you, Moros!*

CigaretteUse2019_50 state graphics_California

*California seems to be on a downward trend… /taps ash… Shame, considering the coronavirus avoids smokers like the… /drags… well, like the plague…*

abhorrent toad

*Ugh! …/streams smoke…*

abhorrent toad

 

*Agreed. Smokers ‘ave been made to social distance for fucking years, Clicky… /sighs…*

times arrow

*Oh, we’re definitely entering the.. /coughs… Fat End of the operation, Clicky…*

*She didn’t mention the fat shaming and the green energy peddle-power, Clicky… /sniffs…*

 

*Oh, the Surveillance State is already ‘ere…*

Romping Arse

*You got that right…*

Barking Frog Tweet

*No, what’s hidden behind the curtain, Clicky? …/final drag…*

*Smokers in the Blue universe already knows the benefits… /stubs butt… We’re at the sharp end, Clicky…*

pyramid

*I guess a mountain does look like a pyramid, and a pyramid looks like a wedge…*

*Mmm… have we got any jelly and ice cream, Clicky?*

I dunno

*Nevermind… /lights up…*

 

CLICK5: Be Read and Jam

 

New Ham Let: ‘Cos Play’s The Fing

*/lights up… Afternoon, Clicky… /drags… Feeling Old Skool, are we? …/streams smoke…*

I saw a tweet earlier today, Dear Reader…

*’rollie stone’… /:D… *

Franglish Monkey Sync Sense goes for Smiles

Having a fascination with ‘signs’ and ‘syncs‘, I was interested to see, just how far the UK had “sunk”, so I clicked and started to read

‘ROLLING Stones guitarist Keith Richards proved he’s still got plenty of puff left — after being given permission to smoke on stage.

‘The 74-year-old rocker was seen having a crafty cigarette during the band’s show in London this week — aptly called their No Filter tour.

‘He was cheered by the crowd of 70,000 at The London Stadium in Stratford as he lit up, flouting the strict no smoking rule.’

GOSH

*/thinks and smokes… 70,000 people applauding the lighting of a cigarette, against the rules? In a stadium, Clicky, some believe hosted a magikal ceremony… /smokes and thinks… I wonder if the magik was intended as a one-off thing, or if the potential lingers longer than anticipated?*

*Butt then aren’t we all born a bit slippy, Clicky? …/blows smoke rings…*

The next bit of the article I found particularly interesting, Dear Reader – the Local Authority expounds on the issue…

‘But Newham Council said it would not be taking any action because smoking was part of the act. ‘Smoking on stage is permitted “where the artistic integrity of a performance makes it appropriate for a person to smoke”, therefore no action will be taken,’ it added.’

*As You Like it… /final drag… Underworld may have directed the music but Shake Sphere’s Tempest formed the basis of that magikal ceremony in 2012, Clicky… /fills air with smoke… And he’s still going…*

ode-by-a-smoking-brexiteer

*Smoking is an art, Clicky… /stubs butt… Sonnet 6+6+6… Ya Ken?*

Time for a Song, Dear Reader. Enjoy rest rest of Whitsun ❤

*Really, Clicky? I’d have had money on you going with a Stones Song…*