This piece won first prize in the Mostly Life Competition.
***
Mrs Cheveley in the Conservatory at Tenby
Emily Hinshelwood
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
'From Romford with Love' by Paul Smith
This piece was commended in the Mostly Life Competition.
***
From Romford with Love
('From Romford with Love' is also available as a usable online greetings card. Clicking on the above link will take you directly to the card at www.hdgreetings.com.)
From Romford with Love
Paul Smith
***
From Romford with Love
('From Romford with Love' is also available as a usable online greetings card. Clicking on the above link will take you directly to the card at www.hdgreetings.com.)
From Romford with Love
Paul Smith
'Ask Mairghread' by Clare Girvan
This piece was commended in the Mostly Life Competition.
***
Ask Mairghread
(To; ‘Ask Mairghread,’ Dunblane Herald, 50 - 55 Graymalkin Street, Forres.)
Dear Mairghread,
After twenty years of marriage, my husband and I are drifting apart. He hasn’t settled at all well to civilian life since he left the army, and seems to be having some kind of mid-life crisis.
I think we made a mistake moving out to the country. It’s a lovely big old house, and the agent said it had a pleasant seat, but he doesn’t have to live here. We can’t get really good staff and the grounds are going to rack and ruin. There seems to be an infestation of snakes in the flower beds and the wood outside is far too close – it gets very oppressive.
His job means we have to socialise a lot, of course, which I have found very difficult. I’m not used to entertaining on a grand scale, and the servants aren’t always sober. His boss came to stay a while ago, and – well, I won’t go into details, but there was a most unfortunate accident with the cutlery. We tried to hush it up as best we could, but his boss was a very influential man, and I think a lot of people felt we were largely to blame.
Not that we have visitors anymore. My husband’s started having hallucinations and I think he probably has some kind of food allergy that gives him embarrassing fits during meals. At our last dinner party, the guests even got up and went home – utter humiliation. I make allowances, since he isn’t a well man, but I suspect he is also bipolar, and although I’ve tried to hold everything together, I’ve developed an obsessive compulsive disorder and find everything very hard to cope with.
Since he took over the firm, he’s been daggers drawn with his friends, always picking quarrels with them for no reason that I can see. I’ve tried persuading him to invite them round for the evening and bury the hatchet, but he won’t hear of it. The only people he still sees are three of his old girlfriends. We had dinner with them at their commune once, but they were pretty weird, and what was in the casserole they gave us I didn’t dare to think.
Maybe things would have been better if we’d had children, but I never really got the hang of motherhood. We did have a son when we were first married. I loved him, of course, but I wasn’t very good with babies and he died. My husband doesn’t say, but I know he envies one of his old friends who is producing a whole line of heirs, left, right and centre.
I don’t know how much longer we can go on like this. There isn’t a moment’s peace, what with people knocking on the door at all hours, owls screaming, crickets crying, ravens croaking and martlets scratching about and building nests in the roof. It’s absolute murder trying to get a decent night’s sleep.
Please, Mairghread, what can I do? I’m absolutely at my wits’ end.
Yours desperately,
Gruach Macbeth of that ilk.
Clare Girvan
***
Ask Mairghread
(To; ‘Ask Mairghread,’ Dunblane Herald, 50 - 55 Graymalkin Street, Forres.)
Dear Mairghread,
After twenty years of marriage, my husband and I are drifting apart. He hasn’t settled at all well to civilian life since he left the army, and seems to be having some kind of mid-life crisis.
I think we made a mistake moving out to the country. It’s a lovely big old house, and the agent said it had a pleasant seat, but he doesn’t have to live here. We can’t get really good staff and the grounds are going to rack and ruin. There seems to be an infestation of snakes in the flower beds and the wood outside is far too close – it gets very oppressive.
His job means we have to socialise a lot, of course, which I have found very difficult. I’m not used to entertaining on a grand scale, and the servants aren’t always sober. His boss came to stay a while ago, and – well, I won’t go into details, but there was a most unfortunate accident with the cutlery. We tried to hush it up as best we could, but his boss was a very influential man, and I think a lot of people felt we were largely to blame.
Not that we have visitors anymore. My husband’s started having hallucinations and I think he probably has some kind of food allergy that gives him embarrassing fits during meals. At our last dinner party, the guests even got up and went home – utter humiliation. I make allowances, since he isn’t a well man, but I suspect he is also bipolar, and although I’ve tried to hold everything together, I’ve developed an obsessive compulsive disorder and find everything very hard to cope with.
Since he took over the firm, he’s been daggers drawn with his friends, always picking quarrels with them for no reason that I can see. I’ve tried persuading him to invite them round for the evening and bury the hatchet, but he won’t hear of it. The only people he still sees are three of his old girlfriends. We had dinner with them at their commune once, but they were pretty weird, and what was in the casserole they gave us I didn’t dare to think.
Maybe things would have been better if we’d had children, but I never really got the hang of motherhood. We did have a son when we were first married. I loved him, of course, but I wasn’t very good with babies and he died. My husband doesn’t say, but I know he envies one of his old friends who is producing a whole line of heirs, left, right and centre.
I don’t know how much longer we can go on like this. There isn’t a moment’s peace, what with people knocking on the door at all hours, owls screaming, crickets crying, ravens croaking and martlets scratching about and building nests in the roof. It’s absolute murder trying to get a decent night’s sleep.
Please, Mairghread, what can I do? I’m absolutely at my wits’ end.
Yours desperately,
Gruach Macbeth of that ilk.
Clare Girvan
'Hi David Gaffney!' by Nadia Kingsley
This piece was commended in the Mostly Life Competition.
***
Hi David Gaffney!
Last month I ordered a book off Amazon Marketplace. It had scored five stars in its customer reviews, and I could purchase it for a penny (plus p&p) and so, in this instance, I had thrown caution to the wind.
When the book came through the post it carried a postcard, from the author, tucked away in its insides. It was addressed to me.
Since its arrival, I have read and reread this unsolicited communication. It doesn’t take long. The exclamation mark after my name is surprising, but I am particularly disconcerted by the kiss after his. I haven’t yet had time to read his book.
Nadia Kingsley
***
Hi David Gaffney!
Last month I ordered a book off Amazon Marketplace. It had scored five stars in its customer reviews, and I could purchase it for a penny (plus p&p) and so, in this instance, I had thrown caution to the wind.
When the book came through the post it carried a postcard, from the author, tucked away in its insides. It was addressed to me.
Since its arrival, I have read and reread this unsolicited communication. It doesn’t take long. The exclamation mark after my name is surprising, but I am particularly disconcerted by the kiss after his. I haven’t yet had time to read his book.
Nadia Kingsley
'The Care and Attention of Your Man' by Sally Quilford
This piece was commended in the Mostly Life Competition.
***
The Care and Attention of your Man
Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of Man. This product comes in Deluxe, Classic and Bog Standard. You have chosen the Bog Standard model with Integrated Bullshit Cache, which comes fully assembled. This product will bring you years of pleasure (see disclaimer).
Six Month Guarantee
If, in the first six months, your Man fails to send you flowers, open doors, say nice things and earn a good wage, you may return him for an exchange or full refund. After that you’re on your own. You may buy an extended two-year warranty for the cost of a wedding certificate.
Ingredients
Wind, water, flesh, blood, hair.
Features of the Bog Standard Model
Fully pose-able
Can sit in armchair
Able to work remote control
Equipped for sexual pleasure (may need extra programming)
Puts up shelves (may need extra nagging)
Eats
Sleeps
Pees
Poos
Integrated Bullshit Cache
Troubleshooting
My Man won’t mow the lawn
In the event of your man refusing to mow the lawn, it might help if you sit and watch various gardening programmes with him. Point out how good that Tommy Walsh looks when he’s pushing a lawnmower, and that if you had a man like him, your lawn would always be mown. Possible problems: your Man might suggest you go and find Tommy Walsh, then retire to the pub.
My Man insists on staying in the pub
There is only one remedy for this. Keep plenty of booze at home. Your Man needs lots of lubrication, and any dehydration through lack of alcohol may lead to him looking sullen and/or talking common sense.
My Man is no good in bed
This is a major problem with the Bog Standard model. You could try solving this software problem with an input of Viagra, but it could be that you really need the Deluxe model, who comes equipped with all relevant hardware.
My Man won’t go out to work
Some Bog Standard owners have succeeded in getting their man to work by bringing to his attention the Jobcentre, or by sending him out shopping with the dole money so he can see for himself how far it goes. Unfortunately, in most cases, Man returned with a six pack of beer and a tube of Pringles, insisting that the situation was ‘sorted’.
My Man keeps shutting down
Your Man will need at least eight hours downtime per day. Some Men may need longer. You can expect your Man to be out of action for anything up to twelve hours. You could remedy this by poking him in the ribs at seven o’clock in the morning, but there is a danger of his suffering from ‘Bearwithasorehead-itis’ for the rest of the day.
I want to delete my Man
Caution: Deleting your man may lead to a lengthy prison sentence as they are covered by several draconian laws regarding the deletion of anything that passes for a human being. You could sell him to another woman, and upgrade to the Deluxe or Classic model.
Caution: Side Effects
It has been brought to our attention that owning a Man can have side effects:
Sickness
Pregnancy
Single Motherhood
Martyrdom
Boredom
Loss of libido
Murder
Disclaimer:
We wish you many happy years with your Man. However, we are not responsible for any promises made to you by your Man, especially if you were stingy enough to buy the Bog Standard model with added Bullshit Cache. In our opinion, you really should aim higher, but that’s women for you. Always settling for second best. You really are your own worst enemies, you know.
Sally Quilford
***
The Care and Attention of your Man
Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of Man. This product comes in Deluxe, Classic and Bog Standard. You have chosen the Bog Standard model with Integrated Bullshit Cache, which comes fully assembled. This product will bring you years of pleasure (see disclaimer).
Six Month Guarantee
If, in the first six months, your Man fails to send you flowers, open doors, say nice things and earn a good wage, you may return him for an exchange or full refund. After that you’re on your own. You may buy an extended two-year warranty for the cost of a wedding certificate.
Ingredients
Wind, water, flesh, blood, hair.
Features of the Bog Standard Model
Fully pose-able
Can sit in armchair
Able to work remote control
Equipped for sexual pleasure (may need extra programming)
Puts up shelves (may need extra nagging)
Eats
Sleeps
Pees
Poos
Integrated Bullshit Cache
Troubleshooting
My Man won’t mow the lawn
In the event of your man refusing to mow the lawn, it might help if you sit and watch various gardening programmes with him. Point out how good that Tommy Walsh looks when he’s pushing a lawnmower, and that if you had a man like him, your lawn would always be mown. Possible problems: your Man might suggest you go and find Tommy Walsh, then retire to the pub.
My Man insists on staying in the pub
There is only one remedy for this. Keep plenty of booze at home. Your Man needs lots of lubrication, and any dehydration through lack of alcohol may lead to him looking sullen and/or talking common sense.
My Man is no good in bed
This is a major problem with the Bog Standard model. You could try solving this software problem with an input of Viagra, but it could be that you really need the Deluxe model, who comes equipped with all relevant hardware.
My Man won’t go out to work
Some Bog Standard owners have succeeded in getting their man to work by bringing to his attention the Jobcentre, or by sending him out shopping with the dole money so he can see for himself how far it goes. Unfortunately, in most cases, Man returned with a six pack of beer and a tube of Pringles, insisting that the situation was ‘sorted’.
My Man keeps shutting down
Your Man will need at least eight hours downtime per day. Some Men may need longer. You can expect your Man to be out of action for anything up to twelve hours. You could remedy this by poking him in the ribs at seven o’clock in the morning, but there is a danger of his suffering from ‘Bearwithasorehead-itis’ for the rest of the day.
I want to delete my Man
Caution: Deleting your man may lead to a lengthy prison sentence as they are covered by several draconian laws regarding the deletion of anything that passes for a human being. You could sell him to another woman, and upgrade to the Deluxe or Classic model.
Caution: Side Effects
It has been brought to our attention that owning a Man can have side effects:
Sickness
Pregnancy
Single Motherhood
Martyrdom
Boredom
Loss of libido
Murder
Disclaimer:
We wish you many happy years with your Man. However, we are not responsible for any promises made to you by your Man, especially if you were stingy enough to buy the Bog Standard model with added Bullshit Cache. In our opinion, you really should aim higher, but that’s women for you. Always settling for second best. You really are your own worst enemies, you know.
Sally Quilford
'Forget-ful' by Jane Pearn
This piece was commended in the Mostly Life Competition.
***
Forget-ful
I go to get a thing and
why am I here?
In the doorway, baffled – get? for?
for what? get what?
what for?
Mind seems to have gone
(on a short break? a round-the-world trip?)
without me. I need to be re-
minded.
I ask it
Where did I put the keys? What’s
her name? Who wrote
the poem that made me laugh last week?
No answer.
Mind has no spaces for such stuff,
being so full of forget.
Jane Pearn
***
Forget-ful
I go to get a thing and
why am I here?
In the doorway, baffled – get? for?
for what? get what?
what for?
Mind seems to have gone
(on a short break? a round-the-world trip?)
without me. I need to be re-
minded.
I ask it
Where did I put the keys? What’s
her name? Who wrote
the poem that made me laugh last week?
No answer.
Mind has no spaces for such stuff,
being so full of forget.
Jane Pearn
'And the Consequence was' by Jennifer Price
This piece was commended in the Mostly Life Competition.
***
And the Consequence was ....
Heaven. Fluffy cloud etc. God and the angel Gabriel play consequences.
Gabriel: God, have you ever played consequences?
God: Well, no, but I did create the world. I know it’s not playing but ....
Gabriel: Nah, I mean Consequences the game – at dinner parties and stuff?
God: Er, no, I suppose I haven’t. It’s quite a while since I went to a dinner party. People don’t like to invite me – it’s always Jesus who gets to go. You know the sort of thing; if you could invite anyone to a dinner party who would it be... it’s like I don’t exist.
Gabriel: Well, hey; we’ve got a couple of hours. Let’s kick back and play.
God: Okay. What do I have to do?
Gabriel: Oh, it’s great – you’ll love it. What you do is you have start with a descriptive word, like ‘cheeky’ –
God: Or God-fearing?
Gabriel: Yep, sure: cheeky, sexy, God-fearing … whatever floats your boat. And then we swap paper and list one person’s name, then the same for a second person, then where they met, what he said, what she said, what the consequence was, then the last one is what the world thought about it.
God: Then do they go to heaven or to hell?
Gabriel: Er … neither. It’s just a game.
God: Oh, alright. It’s just that it’s called ‘Consequences’-
Gabriel: I know, but it’s only meant for fun,
God: It’d be better if it actually had consequences.
Gabriel: Hmm. Why don’t we just play it without consequences? You know, just until you get the hang of it … I guess if you want to change the rules afterwards there’s not much any of us can do about it, is there? Ha ha!
God: Yes, alright. Let’s play.
Gabriel: [claps hands together] Alrighty then! Now, get your pencil ready ….
Some time passes ….
Gabriel: Okay, you read yours out, and then I’ll read mine.
God: Right. [God unfolds his piece of paper.] Ahem. The childlike George met the misguided Tony at a sushi bar. He said Hey, Bud, let’s start a war, he said Whatever you say, darling! And the consequence was a big old mess, and the world thought Isn’t that illegal? [God chuckles] Oh yes that’s funny – at a sushi bar! That’s a good one …
Gabriel: Okay, my go. [Gabriel unfolds his own piece of paper.] Right. Ha ha! Okay, the wrinkly John met the god-fearing [Gabriel clicks his finger and points at God] – liking that one, aren’t we? Where was I? Oh yes – the god-fearing Sarah in Kentucky Fried Chicken. He said Do you want to be president? She said What does that word mean? The consequence was the earth moved and the world thought We should’ve seen that coming!
[God and Gabriel look at each other and laugh.]
Gabriel: [wiping a tear from the corner of his eye] Oh, God, I do like this game. But maybe it’s a good thing it is only a game. I mean, humans who behaved like this – that’d be one for the ‘whoops’ bin, wouldn’t it?
God: Oh, I don’t know. I still think it’d be better with real consequences.
Jennifer Price
***
And the Consequence was ....
Heaven. Fluffy cloud etc. God and the angel Gabriel play consequences.
Gabriel: God, have you ever played consequences?
God: Well, no, but I did create the world. I know it’s not playing but ....
Gabriel: Nah, I mean Consequences the game – at dinner parties and stuff?
God: Er, no, I suppose I haven’t. It’s quite a while since I went to a dinner party. People don’t like to invite me – it’s always Jesus who gets to go. You know the sort of thing; if you could invite anyone to a dinner party who would it be... it’s like I don’t exist.
Gabriel: Well, hey; we’ve got a couple of hours. Let’s kick back and play.
God: Okay. What do I have to do?
Gabriel: Oh, it’s great – you’ll love it. What you do is you have start with a descriptive word, like ‘cheeky’ –
God: Or God-fearing?
Gabriel: Yep, sure: cheeky, sexy, God-fearing … whatever floats your boat. And then we swap paper and list one person’s name, then the same for a second person, then where they met, what he said, what she said, what the consequence was, then the last one is what the world thought about it.
God: Then do they go to heaven or to hell?
Gabriel: Er … neither. It’s just a game.
God: Oh, alright. It’s just that it’s called ‘Consequences’-
Gabriel: I know, but it’s only meant for fun,
God: It’d be better if it actually had consequences.
Gabriel: Hmm. Why don’t we just play it without consequences? You know, just until you get the hang of it … I guess if you want to change the rules afterwards there’s not much any of us can do about it, is there? Ha ha!
God: Yes, alright. Let’s play.
Gabriel: [claps hands together] Alrighty then! Now, get your pencil ready ….
Some time passes ….
Gabriel: Okay, you read yours out, and then I’ll read mine.
God: Right. [God unfolds his piece of paper.] Ahem. The childlike George met the misguided Tony at a sushi bar. He said Hey, Bud, let’s start a war, he said Whatever you say, darling! And the consequence was a big old mess, and the world thought Isn’t that illegal? [God chuckles] Oh yes that’s funny – at a sushi bar! That’s a good one …
Gabriel: Okay, my go. [Gabriel unfolds his own piece of paper.] Right. Ha ha! Okay, the wrinkly John met the god-fearing [Gabriel clicks his finger and points at God] – liking that one, aren’t we? Where was I? Oh yes – the god-fearing Sarah in Kentucky Fried Chicken. He said Do you want to be president? She said What does that word mean? The consequence was the earth moved and the world thought We should’ve seen that coming!
[God and Gabriel look at each other and laugh.]
Gabriel: [wiping a tear from the corner of his eye] Oh, God, I do like this game. But maybe it’s a good thing it is only a game. I mean, humans who behaved like this – that’d be one for the ‘whoops’ bin, wouldn’t it?
God: Oh, I don’t know. I still think it’d be better with real consequences.
Jennifer Price
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