Postcards from Kronk - the second collection of daily stories. (2025)

Thank you for this opportunity to speak. When I was a youngster I'd steal things, not small things like other kids but big things like dustbins and alsatians. And I was damn good at it too, took them and returned them all before their owners realised, had a gift I guess you could say. I know that's not the sort of thing I should be saying, I'm sorry. I dedicated my life to it, didn't learn it from masters in temples or any of that I just practiced and now, I'm here, you're there aren't you. And what you really want to know is why that lift shaft is empty, am I right or are you just yanking my chain?

Ok, run that by me again. ... a bank holiday for all of course ... flags and streamers at least ... coverage on telly ( at least ITV, preferably BBC) will you consider channel 4 ... as a last resort good, and... ... and Catweasel to officiate a ceremony yes, Catweasel..? ... the skinny wrestler and you're sure this is what the Queen wants ... Ha ha, no, of course not, but it wants she gonna get... I'll have to speak to people and get back to you

The girl with the Alice band licks the tips of her fingers and sticks her hand out of the bus window. No one notices this happening except me. She is totally beautiful. I thought this when we first met a month ago and since then I've followed her. Tomorrow I'll introduce myself and she will be my friend.

Sitting in the waiting room at St Pancras station drinking tea too hot to hold comfortably I stared at silent footage of pop stars and politicians on the TV screen helpfully erected for us in the corner of the coffee shop. Something caught my eye, a rolling headline ending with ' make new Mekong finds' and for the briefest of micro seconds I confuse Mekong with the Mekon and understand with great clarity and calmness we are now in  Dan Dares world. A place where alien overlords plot, robot armies are controlled by a talking cat and fight smugglers and I can't trust anyone as they may be a doppelganger grown from a pod. I felt myself smiling, no, I felt myself grinning. I've never stopped grinning and also never got back on that train.

Somewhere along my life important things have been overwritten by less important things. I know how to ski but can't remember what it felt like to kiss Charlotte. The taste of her lips, the smell of her breath. I came to the church by taxi not out of respect or guilt but out of practicality. As the hymn starts and I check my phone for an important email I hope no one is watching.

As we walk away from the fire I try to call Audrey. Behind us the battle is raging, the others are coming, they grind into the ground , snakes in their hips, plastic lips and empty eyes. Whilst we were sleeping they grew strong but we're going to re-group and Audrey will be fine, she always is. This night has only just started. 

Hilda placed my gift down on the side and sipped her tea before thanking me. " That's lovely Graham, thank you very much" Next door Georgia held it up to her good eye. " What is it ? " " It's a ..." A glance towards me for help, " I think it's African ? It's a traditional design I think...? " " That's right Auntie Hilda, it's from the Gabon " She composed herself and appraised it afresh, pulling her pointy chin back into her turkey neck. I almost told her then that I'd decorated with a colour coded map of cancer deaths across the globe but highlighting those in Ireland, her place of birth. But I didn't, I think the spirit of Christmas must've got to me. " You're a lovely artist Graham, you should go to college, you really should " " Thanks Auntie Hilda "