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

The gin took the edge of the day, a couple more and he'd be ok to go home. That's what he was tellling himself anyway. Another over here when you've a moment. The man waved a fiver in the air and destested what he'd become. When I was young I wanted to be Peter Withe, powering a header into the back of a net. When I was older it was Paul Jackson who'd turned his house into a music venue, got a stage out the back and a pool room at the front. I practically lived there for three years, played darts with charlie harper, discussing politics with Atilla the Stockbroker; happy, carefree days. He's got to write a report later, set out the firms response to the latest incident but for now he's drinking gin and waving bank notes to get noticed.

We drift in and out of sleep as the coach winds its way through the mountains, bags under our feet, rolled up clothes behind our head. I spot the dog star, shining through the murky windows and decide the distance there and back is how much I love you.

The Scottish separatist stood before Jim Kerr, head bowed. The bloated simple minds front man floated forwards, his head at an ungodly and particularly Scottish angle, Celtic fury in his eyes. Behind him Charlie the other one lit the remaining matches one by one and threw them at his neck. one - the prime minister wasn't there As each match hit Charlie the other one counted out the ways the terrorist plan was doomed to fail. two - the voting hasn't started three - the firewood was damp four - you're no Guy Fawkes five - we said no six - we said no way, no way, no way It lasted only for twenty minutes or so and then they were gone and the deflated freedom fighter was left to lick his wounds.

The Taj Mahal began to melt so their gamble had failed. Jonas Murray texted his wife, there'd be another name on the sand sculpture trophy this year, looks like it is time to abandon the secret recipe.  Back at the hotel his wife, Sue's phone buzzed and she read and re- read the message ' Set the Hawk Free ' wishing she'd married a less complex man.

"When I was last involved with people like you I couldn't sleep, you and your kind made me scared of the dark, of telephones, of knocks, of people like you. I wouldn't travel on public transport or fail to fasten three bolts on my front door during the day and an extra one at night. But that was then and that was before I became known as the Death Mother Things are different now and I suggest you should be the ones watching your back from now on." The new teacher had a lovely lilt to her voice but still seemed quite threatening to the majority of Year 6.

She was young, curvy and oblivious to her own beauty and the only one I could see without tattoos "Dave's sorting the band out, through there " she said, indicating a door behind her. " it's OK isn't it?  Everything is OK? ' She shrugged, " think so, very strange night though". I was disarmed by her calmness, the police had come and gone but nothing was resolved. " Are you staying for the show?  " she asked. " what time is it?  " " it's  ten now, nothing'll happen till gone midnight " I remembered my cat, he would be waiting still, when had I gone home last? " If I go out now, can I get back in later?  " Up close she was even more beautiful, the lop sided nose seemingly placed there to accentuate and balance her otherwise perfection. " you should be OK I think " Leaving the club the night air wrapped its arms around me, the sky not yet fully dark. " I'll come with yo...

Operation when played with a real body requires no less a precise and rare alignment of events and conditions as those required for a total solar eclipse. Firstly, at least two full days without any management are necessary, the corpse itself must not be needed by the police, family or relatives and finally the right staff team, those with the expertise and absolute trust, should be scheduled on duty at the same time. Tonight was one of those special nights, the room was silent as Andy sewed closed the last pocket of skin. Krish stepped forwards and drew the first token from the bag, fingers crossed, hoping to heaven he wouldn't get the camera.