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

We are watching Cooke holding the razor in front of him. he lost and whilst Woz is taking Tina out, holding doors open for her and ordering vodka tonics he is home alone, with a razor and a bottle of Skol. He'd lost the first event; still found it hard to believe Woz used to be a performance poet but he'd won the second. This was Cookes moment, we watch as he remembers the white pony he'd bought back and the look on Woz's face with his pitiful offering of a flashing roadside lamp. Score even, Tina had called for a third event, the winner of which would take her arm. After a week of growing anticipation the three of them had met in the Wimpy opposite the Clocktower. Woz was there first, his small but wiry beard plaited into two twists, each ending in a tiny silver bell, Cooke came second, the pencil thin spiv style of his moustache accentuated by a silver case of hand rolled cigarillos. The tension was almost unbearable but finally she made her decision: Tina rang W...

There's Wimbledon on the telly and you're playing with cat. The strawberries I bought for the Pimms have gone off but we cut out the good bits and drop them into our wine. The new lawn is taking well and the salads are getting big and we're pretending we haven't got to go to work in the morning. We try not to wonder what it's like next door, now it's finally over. I'll run us a bath and we'll listen to the tennis on the radio.

Lola Colombo called her children to make sure they were safe. She was sure they'd have heard the rumours and gone home, bought provisions and ammunition if they'd ever listened to their father. The country had only just got back on it's feet after the last time the President ran off. For the first few weeks of his dissapearence it'd been business as usual, a holiday like feeling but like a class left without a teacher eventually things got out of hand, as if people felt they had been presented with a window to do what they want, to settle scores and sort out injustices.  On his return President Acosta addressed the nation and explained he was sorry and that he'd lost track of the time. That was just before the night of the burning fury, the last time she'd seen Hugo. The phone went just as Lola about given up for the night. " Isabel? .." "It's ok, it's ok, we're safe, we're all safe and we've a plan Mama, a plan that will m...

Year after year there are more of them, those that fought and fell,  in the crevices of our skin they sink and twist and spiral and fall weaving in and out of our memory, by Spitfires and Meschermitts, forgotten but still fighting, beyond death into all eternity. What will happen when the ghosts outnumber the living?

No one speaks after the interview and Dale wishes, not for the first time, that he'd bought the bar in Spain when he'd had the chance, bad things seemed to happen to good people here. They walk back to the car in silence, his driver holds the door open as they enter the basement, at least he couldn't have heard the interview down there. "Some one please say something, make this better than it is " " It wan't as bad as you think Minister " Arnold, his personal secretary tries to reassure him " Don't give me that Arnold, your lips move and make those sounds but your eyes say something else don't they ? " Attacking those who offer him comfort. Teri jumps in, " No, he's right, you did make some good points, it's just that some of.." she tails off without finishing the sentence. " I just told three million listeners they could now register a stolen bicycle with the Police and shop for a replacement at Halfor...

PC Alex Collinson, chronologically twenty nine years old but feeling fourteen sat in the reception of Wilberforce Community College trying to look relaxed. In his hands, an invitation to address the school assembly, to inspire the pupils: embody what they could become. Lost in time he pictured the quiet put upon young boy who'd hid in the toilets during break-time. What had happened to everyone in the intervening years ? Our lives are not planned Alex, they open out before us, they find their own way like drops of rain on a window, you never know if they will turn or come to a stop; his Uncle rarely spoke but when he did you listened. " This way Mr Collinson Sir " a young girl, low slung tie and mouth full of gum appeared through the door. She spoke better than she dressed and even half curtsied as she held the door for him. Her name is Molly McMahon she told hin as they walked to the hall. " Wait here please Sir" Outside the sound of kids messing about, avoidin...

Waiting for the CEO to arrive Daniel questions once more the sense of going ahead with building fourteen nuclear jump jets after receiving an order written in pencil crayon and signed 'you know who'. Oh Don't fail me now lucky tie....