IT’S coming up to a year since I first met Joseph.
I had been briefed of course, all terribly top secret, but when I entered his room I had no idea what to expect, this was new territory for me – and for everybody else of course.
IT’S coming up to a year since I first met Joseph.
I had been briefed of course, all terribly top secret, but when I entered his room I had no idea what to expect, this was new territory for me – and for everybody else of course.
by Patrick O’Connor
DAN slumped down on the seat next to the old lady who was staring keenly out towards the vast expanse of green grass.
He didn’t think he’d ever seen grass cut so neatly, laid out in precise, differently shaded squares.
NIGEL arrived almost the same time as Sarah, indeed they stood side by side.
He was a scruffy looking twentysomething with torn jeans, faded t-shirt and wayward light brown hair.
“Is this the queue?” he asked.
by Patrick O’Connor
HE was determined to win this year. Years of failure had made him – he looked around sheepishly as if he was checking if anyone could read his thoughts - really, really mad. And, of course, that wasn’t allowed. You weren’t supposed to even frown.
This year the Tall Man had come up with a cunning plan.
“OH my God! Oh my God!”
That was Claire’s usual reaction to most things. Even if someone brought her a cup of coffee she would exclaim loudly: “Oh my God, that’s so nice. Oh my God, thank you.”
HE was falling. Not flying, falling. No wings, just outstretched arms desperately seeking something to hold on to.
Below him was a big black hole. He was falling towards it and he was screaming. Screaming so loud that he thought his lungs would burst. But the fall went on and on and there didn’t seem to be an end to it.