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

Sitting in the waiting room at St Pancras station drinking tea too hot to hold comfortably I stared at silent footage of pop stars and politicians on the TV screen helpfully erected for us in the corner of the coffee shop. Something caught my eye, a rolling headline ending with ' make new Mekong finds' and for the briefest of micro seconds I confuse Mekong with the Mekon and understand with great clarity and calmness we are now in  Dan Dares world. A place where alien overlords plot, robot armies are controlled by a talking cat and fight smugglers and I can't trust anyone as they may be a doppelganger grown from a pod. I felt myself smiling, no, I felt myself grinning. I've never stopped grinning and also never got back on that train.

Somewhere along my life important things have been overwritten by less important things. I know how to ski but can't remember what it felt like to kiss Charlotte. The taste of her lips, the smell of her breath. I came to the church by taxi not out of respect or guilt but out of practicality. As the hymn starts and I check my phone for an important email I hope no one is watching.

As we walk away from the fire I try to call Audrey. Behind us the battle is raging, the others are coming, they grind into the ground , snakes in their hips, plastic lips and empty eyes. Whilst we were sleeping they grew strong but we're going to re-group and Audrey will be fine, she always is. This night has only just started. 

Hilda placed my gift down on the side and sipped her tea before thanking me. " That's lovely Graham, thank you very much" Next door Georgia held it up to her good eye. " What is it ? " " It's a ..." A glance towards me for help, " I think it's African ? It's a traditional design I think...? " " That's right Auntie Hilda, it's from the Gabon " She composed herself and appraised it afresh, pulling her pointy chin back into her turkey neck. I almost told her then that I'd decorated with a colour coded map of cancer deaths across the globe but highlighting those in Ireland, her place of birth. But I didn't, I think the spirit of Christmas must've got to me. " You're a lovely artist Graham, you should go to college, you really should " " Thanks Auntie Hilda "

It's all very well to have a gorgeous wife and a bounding dog with fluffy ears but if you live round here the stench of despair smacks you full in the chops as soon as you leave your front door. I read this in her diary.

Finally, I'm about to get some action, Big Sam motions to me to put on my hat. That's what I think anyway, we have a very complicated signalling system and it's often difficult to remember all the combinations in the heat of a game. I'm a basketball player and a damn good one. The ref blows once and I jump up and take my place on the court, knocking knuckles with Lou, mutual respect for a fellow oldie. The opposing team know me, their fans know me and I am greeted by a chorus of abuse. I raise my hands to the air, hot rocks in my palm. The game has become like a pantomime but I play my part, I act immortal, like Kung Fu. The whistle blows again, Sam shouts out something, the ball comes towards me, the horns on my hat mark me out as a special player, I jump, and catch the ball. Cheers! Spinning like Robin Cousins I flex and shoot. The ball is stuck to my hand, the Spalding rips and tears a little. Big Sam is talking to the robot duck. My hat falls over my eyes. S...

They had only been in the house for two weeks but already the old patterns were re-establishing themselves. Jude choose to ignore the curse emanating from the cabinet, she didn't know her daughter's exotically named boyfriend had stood in the cat litter tray, (another of her little secrets) but understood Hannah was as far away as she'd ever been.