Friday 30 June 2006


I went swimming yesterday morning before work, as is my wont.

A perfectly lovely time was being had by all. It wasn't too busy, there was plenty of room for everyone to get past each other and some of the more energetic swimmers weren't there so the rest of us weren't being constantly splashed in the face as they flailed past.

It didn't last long.

At approximately a quarter past seven, a veritable herd of bimbos emerged from the changing area, cantering and braying their way to the pool side. Long blonde hair in varying shades, from ash blonde to honeyed wheat, flicked from side to side. Hands and arms gesticulated vigorously in time with the bovine chatter emanating from their pouting lips.

I stared in horror from the deep end as these creatures descended on my relaxing swim. Where had they all come from? Why pick now? It's 7:15 in the shitting morning, for Christ's sake!

They cautiously entered the water like wildebeest crossing a muddy river. Edging forward slowly until one was at the front being pushed forward by the sheer numbers behind it. Ever watchful for those dastardly crocodiles.

Suddenly the first one fell into the water, closely followed by a couple more who were pushing her a bit too eagerly. I considered looming up from the deep, gnashing my teeth, grabbing one and dragging it down but then realised it would be a futile effort. The ones at the back wouldn't see and would keep pushing until they were all in the pool, then the sheer multitude would preclude any further room to manoeuver, possibly leaving me trampled to death.

So, uncharacteristically, I gave up. Resigning myself to the fact that my swim would be cut short, I submerged and swam to the far side, breaking the surface and hauling myself out onto the poolside to grab my towel and disappear into the showers.

They better not be there next week!

Tuesday 27 June 2006


As soon as I entered the cloud layer below the airship, I dissolved the invisibility hex from around the broom and started it. Positioned astride the long, broad shaft, I hurtled out of the bottom of the clouds, damp but exhilerated!

Describing a long upward curving arc, I soared up and around the blindingly white cummulo nimbus cloud, cresting the top, squinting against the reflected sunlight.

Nearing the airship, I noticed Knight leaning way over the railing, peering down through the clouds. A look of rarely seen worry on his handsome face. As I closed the distance, he looked up, directly at me, the worried expression instantly replaced by one of surprise. Then of anger.

"What the Hell do you think you were doing?" he yelled at me. "I was worried sick. Half of them" and he gestured at the small group of hovering beings nearby, "have gone down there with Dragon after you!"

"You were worried, were you?" I asked him pleasantly.

"Of course I bloody was!"

"So you do have emotions, then. Perhaps you'll be more aware of mine now that I've scared you into admitting them, you git!" With that, I waved and soared off, letting him stew.

Monday 26 June 2006

Fall from grace

Our massive airship floated amongst the cummulo nimbus clouds like a blue whale amidst a swarm of plankton. We drifted with the clouds, letting the slow wind carry us.

Those who were buoyant in atmosphere or could defy gravity were cavorting and gliding alongside the 'ship. The more adventurous had gone further afield swooping and soaring over the slowly changing cloud formations. The older ones keeping watchful eyes over the younger.

I stood by the ornate wooden rail like an overseer, noticing all and nothing at the same time.

Suddenly, the cloud nearest the 'ship parted and Dragon flew out. Her wings creating spiriling vortices of air with every beat. She beckoned to me to join them before diving into the cloud layer beneath the 'ship.

SIghing, I summoned my broom. I should join them. They were having fun. Why shouldn't I? Why couldn't I?

Hesitantly, I undid the shoulder strap of my uniform jacket then unfastened the front. The black and grey jacket fell to the pale wooden deck in a heap. My metal rank insignia clattering against the hard, polished planks.

Without even trying, I found myself unburdened with thoughts of responsibility and duty. Where had these thought strings gone? Why did I care?

A faint smile played over my lips as they unpursed. I caught Dragon watching me from a not too distant cloudbank, her head cocked slightly to one side. I met her gaze blankly for a moment before turning on my heel and walking away from the railing, entering the shadow under the looming dirigible's gas-filled hull.

Spinning quickly, I ran for the railing, catching a glimpse of Knight exiting the airlock onto the deck. I flashed him a quick smirk, noting the dawning realisation on his face as he saw what I was about to do. He started running towards me but was too far away to ever catch me in time. Turning my attention back to the sky beyond the railing, I saw Dragon hurtling towards me. Like Knight, she was too far away to intercept before...

I leapt over the ornately carved blondwood rail into the sky.

For those moments before gravity took it's inexorable hold on me, I was free. I was air and light. A wisp of nothing. Then I felt it. Felt gravity's hold. Smiling beatifically at Dragon's nearing, horrified visage, I began my long plummet earthwards...

Friday 23 June 2006

Family Misfortunes

Tragically, there weren't enough of Charis' remains to 'reincorporate' her so we had to have a funeral instead.

I loathe funerals because it means one has to make polite chit-chat to relatives that one only sees at forced family functions. Weddings and christenings are other equally great places to be cheated out of hours of one's life (or unlife, depending on one's persuasion).

It was at Charis' funeral that I got stuck with the vampires from the far branch of the family tree. Luckily, only three could make it: Uncle Raven & Aunt Immaculata DeVyse, and Great Aunt Beryl DeVyse.
Honestly, that old bat* can talk for the Underworld. But only coherantly when she's taken her teeth out. There's nothing worse than Great Aunt Beryl sucking on her fangs to keep them in her cat's-arse mouth as she tells you - in great detail - about how young people don't look after themselves these days.
She only moans because she can't stand the taste of the new blood that's around. She much prefers 'Ye Olde Days' when one could sip from the blue bloods. Mostly because they were all too inbred, insipid and lifeless to put up any resistance. That and the fact she'd eventually acquired the taste! These days 'youngsters', i.e. anyone under the age of 90, have too much spirit, they fight back and, horror of horrors, they're too common!

Anyway, I found myself cornered by the canapes by Uncle Raven and Aunt Immaculata. I hadn't even had chance to fill my plate nevermind pop a vol au vent in my mouth (and they looked like chicken & apricot - my favourites). Uncle Raven began talking at me in his monotonous, level voice about how well his sons were doing in New York. He was interrupted now and again by Aunt Immaculata's breathy** reminders of how much money they were making, or how many young virgin girls they'd either 'deflowered' or drained.

As I squirmed, trying to catch someone else's eye - anyones - in the hopes of striking up another conversation and escaping, Uncle Raven uttered the dreaded words:
"So. Have you got yourself a young lady, then?"


My brain froze and my lips locked. Shit! What do I say? Why hadn't I rehearsed an answer? Why couldn't I remember the translocating spell to get me out of there?

Eventually, neurons and synapses flicked into gear - the wrong one - and I replied:
"Ummm... No. Not yet. Haven't met the right girl." I died a little bit more, inside.


Why couldn't I just say: "Of course I haven't, you silly old sod. I'm a bloody, buggering poof! Are you blind?" before giving them both a withering look and inserting a jumbo sausage roll in my gob with a smug, self satisfied look on my face? Why?

At this point Immolation and Infernal DeVize, my twin cousins from 1746, 'just happened' to glide past smirking at me. Damn their telepathy. And damn them for not rescuing me.

* Almost literally. Beryl's not too good at keeping her shape in her old age. Many's the time we've found her asleep, hanging from the curtain pole with moth wings sticking out of her mouth.

** I think her corset was too tight. She looked like she was being squeezed to death. her boobs were spilling over the top like a couple of wrinkly blancmanges stuffed in two egg cups. Bleeurgh!

Wednesday 21 June 2006

Whumph! Zsshzzzhhhssshzzs - whoosh...

Minced and pre-cooked vampire, anyone?

Well, that silly bitch Charis should've opened her eyes. I mean, jet engines are big enough to see from quite a distance...

Thursday 15 June 2006

A Seldom Self

As Charis flew through the still night air, like a blade through velvet, the wind attempted to prize her eyelids open as she slowly accelerated. A shock of moisture drenched her alabaster skin as she hurtled through a cloud, yet still she kept her eyes tightly shut.

Why open her eyes ever again? What good would it do? What more could she see?

Did she even need her limbs? She would never set foot upon the repulsive earth again. Never be sullied by its dirt and doldrums. Never need to reach for its poisoned fruit or grasp its numbing steadfastness.

She let her willowy arms and legs lengthen and stretch, thinning as they did so. Soon they were but ribbons trailing in her wake. Caught in the swirls and eddies that followed in her passing. Eventually she discarded them and they rippled slowly towards the earth below.

I stared at her as I rode beside her in silence. I have no doubt she knew I was flying along with her, stealthy and dark. My silence assured her.

Monday 12 June 2006

So hot

I'm melting! Melting!

Ohhh... What a world...

Friday 9 June 2006

Fat free landing

I went to the beach on Tuesday, near to where the Host's parents live. I didn't take the broom because I can't very well go flying around in broad daylight now, can I?

Anyway, it was a lovely day. Sun shining, not too hot and a pleasant cool breeze. Once I'd got onto the prom, I noticed how low the sand levels were. Last time I was there, there was only a two foot drop from the prom to the beach. This time there was a six foot drop. And there were no steps down from where I wanted to go so the only options were to walk back a couple of hundred meters to the steps, or jump off. Being very lazy, I jumped.

As I launched myself from the prom, I engaged my flight hex to ensure a safe landing.

Well. I would have done if the hex had been there. It seems it had worn out. No more unbaptised boy fat left flowing through my veins to keep it charged up.


So, I landed. Faster than I'd planned to and much more heavily. Accursed gravity's cruel grasp had ensnared me once more. Bah! I think everyone of my bones jarred in some way or other. The Host sniggered but I let him feel the discomfort. Ha!

Not only that but I got sunburnt too! Oh the ignominy.


Saturday 3 June 2006

Halt! Who Goes There? or Are You Reading Me? Over.

I realise my rantings can be madder than a hedgehog in slingbacks sometimes, but do you all still read them? Are you reading this?

Anyway, back to tonights post.

How many lives do you live?

How many worlds do you live in?

The physical world, naturally. Plus, your dream world. As Nancy Sinatra sings: "You Only Live Twice" - Not neccessarily, Nancy. There's the Blogworld. No less a world than any other. A place of connection, of knowledge, of wit, of personal insight and, of course, filth!

Then there's Your Own World. That place you go to without thinking about it. That place you can be either alone or sociable. Be far away or so close to yourself that nothing else matters. Be so distant that nothing and everything revolves around you in perfect time. That place you go to escape without realising you are. The place that accepts you for you only, doesn't question, doesn't hesitate, just takes you unconditionally.

How about the worlds of others? You might first visit with trepidation but find yourself accepted into it. Or find that you'll never belong, never be comfortable, always on edge. You either go because duty compels you, or you go because you don't know how not to.

How many worlds do you visit?