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

There are things that bind people together, blood, love and surplus stock. Joanna sits on the train station with her unsold sombreros, 14,000 of them and texts her sleeping partner. It is raining.

Justine pours herself from the kitchen to the sofa with and pats the shiny white leather seat to her left. " Aren't you going to join me? " The three waiters glanced to one another nervously. " It's ok, my father owns the company " Before they answer she giggles and stands up, adjusting her dress, opening her arms out in a well practiced pose, chin tilted towards the chandelier. Music begins to play, violins, a tango.  Bailemos que no vea en tus pupilas una lágrima furtiva, ni una sombra, ni un dolor. Bailemos Let’s dance may I not see in your eyes a furtive tear, not a shadow, not any pain Let’s dance The young men have no choices left, they have been here before. Ivor steps forward, " I'll dance with you Miss Justine "

Barry lives in a house with no stairs but he gets by fine. Garry lost his bike in a bet with a travelling snake oil salesman that time had forgot. Me, I just write down their stories. Mary follows people on buses all day, randomly selected, swapping victims if discovered. It was this trail of events that led her and Terry to make a go of it. I describe what they do to the policeman on the end of the phone. Terry left his family years ago when the science stuff started paying real money. Barry bought a bungalow for alliteration purposes. Garry used to like Mary but that was before he found out what she did all day. Terry and Garry have met in the past but in different lives. My testimony will be no use whatsoever if this eventually goes to court. Mary caught Terry when Barry broke Garry. I think the policeman on the end of the telephone isn't listening to me. Is this what you wanted ?

Alex stood back and admired his monotlithic parking meter. A monument to strutured waiting, a metaphor for life. Fifteen foot tall, it watched over the consumerist hub of the town. As Alex returned to his car he failed to see the irony in the newly installed wheel clamp nor the juxtaposition of his solitary state and the baying mass of bruised odds and sods merchants looking to question his working practice. This is verite, bring me my camcorder.

You've eaten by the time I get home, the clocks are going back and the radio is warning of a snowstorm. We are told to stay indoors, once we'd have called it ironic. The fridge is full of things I don't recognise, we move around one another silently and I wonder what you're thinking. I bite down on ham and mustard in chunky white bread. Afterwards I join you in the lounge, as I sit down you hand me your glass of red wine and disappear to the kitchen to fetch another. You can't trust the weather I think as you lean in to kiss me.

My nephew Michael is seven today, he's opened his presents and been left with me to play marbles, his birthday present from an uncle we never see. I know he'd rather play with his Nintendo but he's been told to play with me first. I used to have the best collection of marbles in our primary school. The marble man used to appear every few weeks, he'd be on the other side of the fence and always had a handful of marbles for my sister and me. I must have been 10 ish which means Cath would have been 7. Our garden backed onto the Depot, an army base and if you went on the top of our shed it was possible to jump over to the fence, usually to retrieve a ball but sometimes just for the thrill of it. These were before soldiers carried guns as they patrolled the area. Mum and dad knew about the marble man and would smile as we shared our new marbles, steel ball bearings, tiger eyes, some pearlescent ones occasionally, deep blue. Never did we think he was anythin...

We stared open mouthed at the creatures emerging form the Mayor's mouth. Carol nudged me in the ribs and whispered rather too loudly, " I told you this would happen if we cut corners " I stifled a laugh as henchman Baz leaned forwards, his hand on the ceremonial machete.  "And we will have a swimming pool here, here and here " Susan stepped in and ushered us away to the ante room, " and if you follow me ladies and gentlemen I will show you our plans for the water treatment plant". I smiled meakly at Carol who replied with a neck slitting action, a slight at my earlier cowardice I assumed. As we left I took one last look at the Mayor who raised his hand to say goodbye, his cheeks bulging.