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

You don't jump the bump Not round our way, you just glide Lazy and tired rejoice

The first to close was the airport, we spoke highly of honour and self sacrifice, and keep our doubts inside.  The town closed in on itself, like an armadillo, we hibernated, stagnated and grew dim. In the early days people tried to escape, but not anymore. By June it'll be a year, the incubation of our isolation. The sky is clear and quiet and fast bigger than before. It might be ok after all.

The dumbing down continues as we forget what numbers mean and nod silently, waiting to be told to stop. Once, when we were young, one jug of water was too wet, so I added sand to make mud and later that year you made me a vase out of the mud that I couldn't put water in. The truth is always less interesting than the possibility that it's actually a lie. As we grow more creased and bent truth and lies blur and fade until we are alone, free of others. We are less relevant now, more than ever, or perhaps our relevance has turned inwards. The kiln still heats up hotter than my oven, hotter than my heart, and if we crawled in together we'd melt into one another.  It's tempting some days

Nostalgia isn't as good as it used to be. In a bid to reinvigorate the beautiful game and reconnect with the working man and woman from next season teams will be allowed to play two games a season to park rules. These may include only scoring from headers or volleys, skins vs reds or wag and rush keeper. To make things exciting and modern rush keepers can only last 8 seconds before someone else goes in goal. Some are excited by this, I, am not.

Now anyone can be artists, poets, musicians or playwrights. Thanks to the latest AI developments and a generational trawling, pillaging and evisceration of the creative industries, we are no longer post truth, but entering a new era of post tho ught.   And amongst one of the first examples of this democratisation is a massive sculpture of a derelict department store erected in the centre of Tamworth, which the artist states represents derelict department stores.   We need Vikings more than ever.  

In other news Brighton and Hove’s MP, Mr William Donnelly is at it again. P osting on his social media, Mr Donnelly repeat ed  his latest proposal will be beneficial for everyone, business and locals alike , once more claim ing to have the support of over a tho usand residents, a claim, the BBC once again , has been unable to verify .   In response Miss Mary Agombar , the Mayor of Lewes has stated Lewes is a fragrant , prosperous and historic town, and she will not allow  it to be covered by a large glass dome .  

In the latest bout of austerity, and partly connected to the recent   reintroduction of W it ch D octors and Shamen into the NHS to address the current staffing crisis, a large appeal has been made for any old tablets, tin c tur es, medicine or food colouring to be handed into local pharmacies where they will be blessed, mixed up under a full moon and be handed out to school children by lollipop ladies and Ice Cream vans.   If most are ok, we expect adults to follow later towards Easter.  

Dear Horrible Grandma,  We are very sorry but we are going to have reschedule taking you to go ape this weekend. I know you'll be disappointed, but after speaking to my financial advisor it seems for the best.  We have however, booked in for a once in a lifetime diving with sharks experience for September, which if I recall correctly was something you always wanted to do.  Before you can't do anything. Love you lots Bettie

Slowly my past is disappearing, each person I meet steals something away. Soon I will only exist in the present unable or unwilling to connect with real people. I will watch more and more television and buy cheap shampoo, thin and chemical smelling. A trophy won't keep me warm at night.

The best myths teach us valuable lessons in life, and although many are ancient their truths are timeless.   Take the story of Mr Poseidon who lived at 42 Acacia Avenue and oversaw the sea, and most water-based dangers such as droughts and floods even storms at a push . In the back garden he handle d horses and recorded   earthquakes . Most of his  time however was spent sat at a large mahogany desk in a large drawing room with good internet with a view over the road to his nemesis neighbour, Neptune.   Neptune was new on the road but had already turned heads with his fashionable clothes, and modern ways, telling everyone the future lay with canals, not the open sea, much more convenient and more suited to contempora ry living. No shipwrecks nor krakens, truly the way forward. He liked to recline in a hammock rocking it gently by prodding the ground with a mighty trident. Poseiden was convinced this and pretty much every action he did   was deliberately...

He was over there, coming out the bushes, I was the first to see him I think   You weren’t   I was   He looked drunk, that’s what we thought isn't it? Swaying this way an that   He was moaning   Hold on, I was gettin to that, when he got close we could hear him   Moaning   Moaning, yes, like, you know   You know   I thought no one comes out of the bushes like that, not good people anyway, I mean what was he doin ?   Well you know   I know now, but then, we didn't did we   No   You don’t expect it do you? Not round here?   Maybe in the cities, but not here.   I grabbed Grace   Yes, I grabbed Luke, well we all did didn't we, it’s not right   You would, wouldn’t you, who’d leave their child on a swing with that thing lumbering toward her   He couldn’t get over the bit of wood they’ve got round it, like a step thing, you know   He fell over   Yes, he fell over and we grabbed the kids ...