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

The man described them stepping onto the runway into the gathered throng like oversized rock star in fur coats. Ang , who'd identifed himself as the pilot addressed the worlds media. " Thank you Humans of 2012, on behalf of the Interstellar Panda Federation I bring you grave news" I listen transfixed to the radio the keeper ironically tied to the tree in our enclosure and nod to Frank and Benji; our time has come.

The house was empty, she was too late. Whoever had been writing the essays was gone and Columbia was no closer to understanding why. For the past two months teachers had been reporting unsolicited coursework amongst their regular marking. She had been asked to look into the matter, to flush out the culprit, a personal favour to the Dean. The names on the papers had all been from ex pupils, ones that would be in their eighties today were they still alive. Columbia and her team had worked long into nights, following multiple lines of enquiry until by tracing email accounts they'd been led to this house, in a suburb of Kasugai; they'd done a methodical job, they'd followed the bread crumbs so confidently. Columbia drew on a cigarette and closed the door behind her, there would be no answers here.

As Paul entered the final digit and heard the siren kick in he slunk to the floor. The fourth time in six weeks he'd made the same mistake, the unit would begin to shut down now.  In the dark, waiting for maintenance to arrive he tries to work up a suitable explanation emphasising his bad luck over carelessness. Nothing too convoluted, keep your lies simple, that's what his Granddad had always told him. It's time to get another job, he thinks, one lacking two similarly named key mechanical devices.  A knock on the door, he lets the man in and begins. " How in heck do you think a racoon got into the facility ? " His next job had also better be one that isn't too fussy over references.

I find myself crouched down behind my door as the sound of five heavy set men in stilettos knocking loudly begins to die down. In the mirror I catch sight of myself and that's all the encouragement I need to remain hidden. " We'll go without you ! " That's the plan, I think.

If I could push hard enough, into my chest, I'd be able to force a panel open, confirmation that I am a robot. This recurring thought came to me at random times between the ages of 6 and 12, replaced by an ongoing fear that I'd enter my home to be greeted by my family, sat on the settee smiling, but all skeletons. After that I had the one about the man in the mirror and bottom of the bath giving way, the hands that'd grab mine in the dark, the thing at the bottom of my duvet and the fear that my nose had disappeared without me noticing. By the time I reached 16 I'd outgrown most of my adolescent fears, packaged them up and placed them in my memory and in this way I grew into a healthy well balanced young man. This all changed last week when I read my grandfathers diary, every experience I'd had he'd had, every one. I asked my dad about it but he told me to be quiet and clipped me round the ear. I'm 44. 

Frank stood there and took it all. So much guff.  I told him it wasn't good enough, the steps we would have to put in place, the changes he'd need to make if he wanted to keep his job and he just nodded and agreed with me. The aching doesn't go away, no matter many mornings you wake up alone. Finally, he left and I stood up, the disease is getting worse day by day, I took out my knife and hacked at the roots to free my legs. It's only a matter of time, that's what they tell me.

On my fifteenth birthday I joined the queue in our school election dressed as Alex from Clockwork Orange,it was to be the third and final time I put myself forward as Celebrity Year Rep. Dr Congo aka Carl Holmes and his grotty sidekick Kid Congo aka Philip Jameson were ahead of me, threatening the year 7's and whooping like angry apes. " WHOYAGUNNAVOTEFORGIRLYFACE " Carl spoke without punctuation or obvious signs of breathing, I wondered once more how long I could hold his head under water and again decided the answer most would come to is not long enough. " Me, Carl, I'm standing for election too " "WELLHOWSABOUTHATTHENYOUBESTVOTEFORYOUTHENASITLLBETHEONLYUNYOUGET" I let this go without comment, been around the school long enough to know when to remain silent. " Come on come on Mr Gadd, take a slip and pop it into the box over there" Mr Harris growled at me without looking up from his desk, a knack he'd perfected long before I'd ...