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

I'm digging now, like a termite. Amongst the last to leave, the least trusted perhaps, everything I had has been been left behind, when we reach the mainland we are told we will be reborn. Give me the bravery to remember and the grace to forgive. Will I break through like a maggot or a butterfly ? What sounds will I make this time ? I try to ask but very quietly so the guards patrolling above don't hear.

He can't find any where to put his drink down, the table, thick with papers and folders, three mobile phones and two laptops.  The walls are similarly covered, she pulls a face and takes the mug and puts it on the floor, moving a bag to make room. "We need to concentrate, you need to listen. This is it, proof, confirmation of, if not a complete conspiracy then at least coordinated programs to ethnically cleanse " she holds her hand out to stop him interrupting, " ethnically cleanse a whole subsection of society, " She opens her arms out wide indicating everything in the room. " We can't stand by can we ? ". She needs him, no doubt about that, he points at the print out behind her, " That advert for Kent, the one saying Breathe fresh, Feel Better ?" She is gathering things in her arms now, though its hard to see the logic in her selections, "Obvious isn't it, I'm amazed they've got a way with it for so long" ...

Once more the fires are lit and the singing begins, the communion filling the valley. Today is another day saved but the land is disappearing at an alarming rate, oil and blood mixed together and siphoned out, leaving the husk of a community. Less than thirty families remain now but  not for much longer. Take a look at your watch and remember how the earth feels.

The stench almost obliterated Mayor Murray's words of reassurance. "Thank you for standing by me in these dark days " Murray raises his hands aloft, presidential style to indicate Victory, unwittingly knocking out a pair of supporters whose bodies are quickly carried off by his staff. " The finest medical minds have examined me and concluded that the odour I am emanating is no longer pungent but is in fact, fragrant and is due to an over active benevolent gland " The crowd aren't sure they're being told the whole truth but applaud anyway, at least it's progress. " In the coming days I will distribute a pamphlet explaining all but for now..." he chops the air karate style and music blasts out from the giant speakers, " let's dance".

Roy stared at the monitor and waved at his son. Though Roy junior had been unable to be born he was developing quite nicely, obviously a little cramped but the doctors had assured them that he would rapdily catch up as soon as he was born - ' he's like a goldish in a bowl at the moment and you know how big fish get in the ocean '. Linz squeezed Roys hand and asked how Roy junior was, she couldn't see the screen from where she lay and the operations to give Roy junior room to grow severely limited her movement. " He's fine love, he's playing with that YoYo we gave him, just think in a month or two he'll be out " " I don't know how I'll do without him " his wife looked away and the pressure on his hand loosend for a moment before returning double strength. " But we'll have such fun together won't we Roy, me you and Roy junior " " Yes my love, of course we will " The consultant nodded and patted the ...

Right then - time to choose, take a look through into the dark mirror - buckle up and listen to body responses, your neurons and atoms colliding, dividing. Each scene more graphic than the last, each crime more unforgettable, each body less recognisable. Choose three for your picture round Bamber and I'd advise you to do so quickly as they get worse.

Tino the terrier gave John a reproachful look, the book signings and personal appearances were beginning to take their toll on both of them. Since learning Greek and publishing his autobiography 'The Tail that Reads Itself' Tino's simple life had become a public spectacle. He'd give anything to be running in a field or chewing an old peice of twig rather than sitting behind this desk, looking past the red cordon, the line of fans seemed to stretch for miles. "And if you think we're going to Korea ..." he didn't need to say anymore: John turned his head to the floor knowing he'd done wrong.