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

The shop was empty when the man finally came up to the desk. He'd been hanging about for over ten minutes, they'd first noticed him looking at sheet music for accordions, something about his demeanour seemed wrong, he looked like a bass player if anything. 'Hi, I'd like to buy an instrument which, when played, will make make people cry' It was an unusual approach but Floyd though he understood and began to direct him towards the cello, loved by Bach and Saint-Saens or the viola championed by Mozart. 'No, I'm sorry, I haven't explained myself properly, I'd like an instrument that causes people actual pain, something that hits them with the force of a bull, something I can use to hurt people with'. The look in the strangers eye underlined the words he chose, Floyd couldn't work out how best to reply but flippantly found himself saying ' If you shove a viola in someones face they're going to know about it'. The homicidal ba...

It was smaller than he remembered but still hollow inside; as a child he and friends used to sit inside it and plan adventures and tell stories, o nce they even watched Concorde fly over their heads.  Now, slightly drunk, he squeezed in and sat there, knees bunched up to his chin. Through leaves he had a good view of Juliet’s house. As the branches cradled him and the sky gradually darkened Paul tried to order his thoughts. The alcohol he feared would cloud his thinking instead appeared to illuminate his actions: he hadn’t come back for Juliet, or if he had he no longer needed her. Whilst this surprising thought took hold Paul began to feel nauseous, the cramped conditions not helping his now delicate stomach. To avoid being sick into his lap he threw himself sideways out of the bush and landed with a thud onto the gravel drive which held a large BMW. Painfully slowly he raised himself and began to walk home, gingerly at first but then as he felt an unexpected smile on his face, wi...

NATO announced America would be shut down at the end of the year whilst a buyer is sought. The former largest superpower in the world misjudged the world market for being patronised and plundered and since the financial buy out by China and the redneck rebellion the constitution had been in tatters. Potential buyers include the former chief executive of Spud-U-Like Ernest Garrison and the forgotten armies of Sparta.

Moe Fletcher used to be known as the guy that ran so fast through the door it spun him back the way he came. Things like this always seemed to make a habit of happening to Moe, no matter where he was, who he was with. Everyone knew Moe or wished they did. This good will toward him changed however after he was arrested for shooting a hole in the library window behind Miss Gracie Struthers, the bullet having entered and exited her left temple, Moe's explanation that an unnamed man had banged the pistol onto his head causing it to accidentally go off was received somewhat sceptically. When the policemen failed to find anyone else in the building and Gracie Struthers woke up and sold her side of the ten year tryst to the local press, a lifetime of slapstick suddenly looked all too choreographed.

I am the last scientist here. The lab is all we wished for; the equipment more than we require. We stand at the very edges of our knowledge, explorers moving forwards, identifying any weakness that will hold us back. I pick up the chalk and walk towards the wall. Figures, equations, numbers and symbols. Crossings out, more chalk. More chalk, more crossings out, more chalk. Stepping back I re-arm myself, hoping for a different truth. Masking tape, marker pens, emulsion, gaffa tape, spray can. I stop when there is no room for interpretation, looks like I'm no longer needed here, my errors are the only weak links left, time to hang up my goggles.

The very nearly fallen thing had remained unspoken but not forgotten until the court appearance. Their universe expanding as each lie revealed, Takis and Kostas may well need to hand back their medals but it will be worth it.

A shady individual with a taste for cutting corners and a sideline in body disposal should not be put in charge of providing draft proofing for cavity walls. That was the allegation I made in my most recent anonymous letter, now I just have to wait.