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

You know those times in your life when you can sit down, crack open a cold one and think, you know what, I've done alright for myself. This accurately conveyed my state of mind as I sat in the Coopers Arms in Malmo. Opposite me, Anders grinned and even through the blood smears I knew he was thinking the same. You probably can't  imagine him grinning, he looked different back then, he had a smile to charm librarians into bed, one you couldn't fail to return. But I'm getting sidetracked again, sorry. Angela, that nights rescued girl sat opposite and ate her ice cream with her fingers, she'd just finished cross examining our motives and decided for now, we were two of the lesser evils the world has thrown at her. Angela finished her food and lifted her head to face me. She had one eye bigger than the other which kind of made everything she said appear to be a question. " What do I do now then ?" That was a question, clearly. I'd had this conversation many...

Andy always gets me into trouble and annoying has a knack of emerging good natured and easily led whilst I am invariably cast as Fagins evil uncle. Even when he was naked and tried to open up Marks and Spencers by driving a lawnmower through their window I was blamed for lending him my stetson, that's the way it is, really I need to keep out of his way. There's a lot of mileage between what's we should and what we do do though so it is no surprise I am paddling a stolen fishing boat from Filey Pier. " Do you want some of this ? " Andy stands like he is trying to stop diarrhea escaping his trouser leg in what I recognise as his Bruce Lee impression. The threat is directed towards the sammarcos, a type of swimming sasquatch Andy has become fixated on. It had been on the news recently about a second leak, water coming out a statue of Ronald Macdonald in Hull, pouring from his eyes has been tested and confirmed to be from the North Sea.  The North Sea for any of you t...

Imagine the sound you'd make if you found a goat in your bathtub in a fancy hotel. Then imagine the goat has got your dads name tattooed on its hind quarters and is smoking a cigar whilst cursing in Spanish. That's the sound I made when it came over the radio the boys were safe. Another victory for the forces of good against the hell spawned army of destruction, a day of real note. Things have been out of whack for weeks now  and if Emilio believed it necessary to take the boat and deliver the message by moonlight that was good enough for the rest of us.  The new overlords have no need for disguises any more so at least we know now what we're fighting. I've got to go now, molotovs to mix, see you after the reckoning brother.

The Japanese girl had the right idea when she'd chased him down, ironic he was riding a Yahama perhaps. The joke wasn't funny anymore but he'd live, as the gypsies were taking care of him and when he was fit enough they'd get him back. I feel bad I got him into this but what the hell, that Japanese girls kind of hot.

When you get to my age it's rare to get out on your own but today is a special day. I'm on my way back from another funeral and Daniel, my son has agreed to let me have a few moments on my own here. We parked at the top and I've walked down to the old playground. The upright supports of the slide look too slender to my adult eyes, built sometime in the seventies when playgrounds were all metal and everyday ended with a graze. The painted layers come off in my fingers, red, blue, yellow and underneath, the dull grey of what I assume is steel, scratched but still standing. Back then, from the top of the slide you could see right into the old peoples home; the scary sight of our future selves, silent and still in high backed chairs facing a television on a stand. It's hard to reconcile the two ends of our lives, its as if we are different species.  The swings are gone now and only the central column of the roundabout remains, still standing long after it last served an...

I can't remember every word but it went something like this : Thank you for meeting me, I know this must be traumatic for you, I can't tell you everything but I'll share what I can, you need to concentrate. Imagine you've a secret, one so big no one would believe you, even if you wanted to share it, unburden your self it would be no use. Now, with that in mind, consider how you would act if the only other person who knows the secret has just been killed. Not just killed, imagine if you have cleaved him in two with a sword but, and this bit is important, it was the right thing, the only thing you could have done. I know this is beyond you now, but trust me, this murder has saved lives, saved many more innocent lives than it took. I'll be gone again soon, I just wanted to tell you this before I went. Take this, it will explain more than I have, sorry for being so mysterious but you'll understand why soon enough. And he handed me a bag and then got onto the t...

It's morning. Need more milk. Outside, quiet, good. Watch my step, nothing till the shop. Buy milk, leave. Back home, have breakfast and coffee and fall asleep on the sofa for half an hour. I wake thinking of Claire, wanting her home safe but sleep soon gets the better of me and I drift off again. Some time later I'm woke again by the sound of the milk man at the door. I consider explaining to him I've already bought the milk for today and then wonder why I didn't leave a note. He's gone by then I assume so I make another coffee and open the curtains. There's a young woman over the way in a short dress and smudged make up waiting for a bus. It's still early and I'm starting to come round and think straighter, I watch the dust particles dance in the rays of sunshine that come through the window. So much life all around us. Claire will be home from work in an hour, I'll buy us croissants and orange juice. Outside the wolves lie where they were slai...