Unbeknown to the majority of the populous of Great Britain there are scores of different crevices. Some haunted some brilliant and some the stuff of dreams.
Take the first and probably easiest to come by crevice… The phone crevice. This is obtained in a very simple way indeed. One must push two single mattresses together but insist on using a double sheet to cover them. This creates a crevice in the centre that I like to call the phone crevice. I have given it this name because when one sleeps with a phone under the pillow waiting for late night texts. The phone always resides in the crevice in the morning.
This type of crevice also provides an exceedingly good place to sleep the night or perhaps dabble in an afternoon nap. It nurtures the human figure, cups it perhaps. Those who find themselves within the crevice, whether it be by choice or simply through the telekinetic powers that the crevice fosters, will be very extremely comfortable and spend the day with a general aura around them.
The next crevice that I will tell you about is darker, dingier and much more terrifying. Luckily it is harder to find and impossible to muster. This crevice is found between the deadly layers of a fungus found in a wood in Northern Ireland. Within these particular lethal fungi is a crevice so dark that if you put your finger in it you would be transported to another dimension. The world that you would find yourself in would be a land filled with egg white making it exceedingly difficult to move around and take part in day to day activities such as sewing. There are few doors out of this crevice but they are very difficult to open because many of them are metaphorical doors without handles.
The final known crevice is not a crack or cranny as one would expect, but an animal. This Crevice Goblin or Creblin is found in the tropics. It resides in the highest coconut of every palm tree (the coconut which never falls to the ground.) The Creblin passes its lonely life teaching itself synchronised swimming in the coconut milk. When it has got together a satisfactory routine it drinks the coconut milk and dies. But its life isn’t all pointless. The Crevice Goblin finds its real pleasure in the afterlife in crevice heaven with all the other Creblins, where a spectacular and highly enjoyable swimming gala takes place.
Tuesday 31 March 2009
Monday 2 March 2009
Chapter I (for the moment)
The police cars arrived in drones and weary murmurs down the long, gravel driveway which forced dust to rise into a thick fog, blanketing the sullen spring air. Madeline stood fixed in a muddy white dressing gown staring through the dusty mist as if she could see something utterly terrible behind it. As if she was looking at a jolty film projection of all the memories she had pushed away a very long time ago. She wasn’t crying, but she wanted to, her tears were trying to push out but it only made her eyes bloodshot and as dry as needles. One of the policemen came up to her side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
‘Madeline?’ he said ‘My name is Officer Worthing,” he paused, “I know this is difficult but you need to show us to the lake’ he paused and swallowed the lump of stale air that was growing in his throat, ‘you need to show me where you found the…’ he looked around at the other officers who had gathered in a nervous circle around her; her contorted and terrified face affected their own expressions into pure pity. He continued, “Um, the lake, where is the lake?” Madeline reached her hand into the pocket of her wet dressing gown and pulled out a necklace. It was fringed with frays of pond weed, like tiny strands of green, matted hair, she looked at it for a second, put it around her neck and turned around to face the house. Then she began to walk towards it, unflinching from the pain of the sharp gravel underneath her bare feet. 3 of the officers followed her along with officer Worthing. They walked down the side of the house past a pristine rose garden which burst with a divine perfume, and past a cat that was basking in the early morning sunshine. The garden opened out onto a healthy green lawn and quite a large glistening lake. A sugary mist of vapour rose lazily from the water and danced into the tops of the ancient trees.
Officer Worthing looked ahead and then at Madeline and walked gingerly towards the lake, as he got closer the mist grew thinner and he could see a trail of mud, sludge and weeds coming out of the lake at one side. He stepped forward half a pace more and looked a bit closer, something came into view that caused his face to contort into a horrifically pallid expression. Unable to look for more than a second he held his face in his hands, things like this don’t happen in the secluded, rural countryside he thought. He hadn’t expected to be confronted with something like this in his job.
Madeline walked towards him and, in a weak and wavering voice as quiet as the breeze said, “It’s been so long, been so long since I…” She stopped and looked down at the ground “How dare they come back!” she exclaimed in a strained and tired voice, “Come back twenty years later to ruin what I have made for myself, what I made from scratch, from books and courage and good sense. I always knew I had been lied to but was never sure in what way; things never seemed to match up.” She looked into officer Worthing’s eyes which were fighting back his tears. She went on, “Have you ever tried to forget something important, something that you don’t understand, but should seek to understand?” He said nothing, “Do you regret anything in your life Mr Worthing?” He took her hand, squeezed it lightly and nodded, “yes I do, I regret many things in my life” Madeline’s eyes started to grow damp, and on seeing this officer Worthing quickly added, “but I’m sure that everyone has regrets, don’t they?”
“Yes, yes but I don’t mean the sort of regrets like, regretting you stopped learning the piano, or regretting that you never got a pet, I mean regretting that you didn’t try hard enough to find out the truth” He looked at her and replied, “But what if you’re unable to try hard enough? The hardest possible amount you can try is just breaths away from the truth, you can’t gage how hard you’ve tried until you’ve got to the end and achieved what you were trying to find out in the first place” They looked at each other, and Madeline knew exactly what he meant, despite the fact that they both had their own lives which they were likening their conversation to, different lives; somehow Madeline knew he had felt a similar pain to hers.
As they spoke a whole team of police officers were walking around the lake, taking pictures and putting up stripes of tape. Madeline and officer Worthing had been unaware of the activity until one of the officers went up to them to ask a question, and they were snapped out of their reminiscent trances into the horror of what must follow such a discovery as this.
‘Madeline?’ he said ‘My name is Officer Worthing,” he paused, “I know this is difficult but you need to show us to the lake’ he paused and swallowed the lump of stale air that was growing in his throat, ‘you need to show me where you found the…’ he looked around at the other officers who had gathered in a nervous circle around her; her contorted and terrified face affected their own expressions into pure pity. He continued, “Um, the lake, where is the lake?” Madeline reached her hand into the pocket of her wet dressing gown and pulled out a necklace. It was fringed with frays of pond weed, like tiny strands of green, matted hair, she looked at it for a second, put it around her neck and turned around to face the house. Then she began to walk towards it, unflinching from the pain of the sharp gravel underneath her bare feet. 3 of the officers followed her along with officer Worthing. They walked down the side of the house past a pristine rose garden which burst with a divine perfume, and past a cat that was basking in the early morning sunshine. The garden opened out onto a healthy green lawn and quite a large glistening lake. A sugary mist of vapour rose lazily from the water and danced into the tops of the ancient trees.
Officer Worthing looked ahead and then at Madeline and walked gingerly towards the lake, as he got closer the mist grew thinner and he could see a trail of mud, sludge and weeds coming out of the lake at one side. He stepped forward half a pace more and looked a bit closer, something came into view that caused his face to contort into a horrifically pallid expression. Unable to look for more than a second he held his face in his hands, things like this don’t happen in the secluded, rural countryside he thought. He hadn’t expected to be confronted with something like this in his job.
Madeline walked towards him and, in a weak and wavering voice as quiet as the breeze said, “It’s been so long, been so long since I…” She stopped and looked down at the ground “How dare they come back!” she exclaimed in a strained and tired voice, “Come back twenty years later to ruin what I have made for myself, what I made from scratch, from books and courage and good sense. I always knew I had been lied to but was never sure in what way; things never seemed to match up.” She looked into officer Worthing’s eyes which were fighting back his tears. She went on, “Have you ever tried to forget something important, something that you don’t understand, but should seek to understand?” He said nothing, “Do you regret anything in your life Mr Worthing?” He took her hand, squeezed it lightly and nodded, “yes I do, I regret many things in my life” Madeline’s eyes started to grow damp, and on seeing this officer Worthing quickly added, “but I’m sure that everyone has regrets, don’t they?”
“Yes, yes but I don’t mean the sort of regrets like, regretting you stopped learning the piano, or regretting that you never got a pet, I mean regretting that you didn’t try hard enough to find out the truth” He looked at her and replied, “But what if you’re unable to try hard enough? The hardest possible amount you can try is just breaths away from the truth, you can’t gage how hard you’ve tried until you’ve got to the end and achieved what you were trying to find out in the first place” They looked at each other, and Madeline knew exactly what he meant, despite the fact that they both had their own lives which they were likening their conversation to, different lives; somehow Madeline knew he had felt a similar pain to hers.
As they spoke a whole team of police officers were walking around the lake, taking pictures and putting up stripes of tape. Madeline and officer Worthing had been unaware of the activity until one of the officers went up to them to ask a question, and they were snapped out of their reminiscent trances into the horror of what must follow such a discovery as this.
NAIL
This dusky crescent sits lone and proud on a wide plain of plastic. It waits, silently hoping for something better. A detached and disgusting fray of someone else, it waits. But it doesn't feel disgusting, it feels free, in its cream-coloured entirety it has been released into the world and this time without a chaperone. Up close this dreary moonbeam has fissures and 'lack-of-calcium' cracks. Its layers of low-grade ivory intertwined into a torpid, tapestry of emaciated cells and plasma.
The fingernail is always trying to escape its destiny, escape the finger, the chemistry and the body that built it. Even when its host is dead and rotting in the ground it continues to grow away from its station.
This edge of a tectonic plate that once slid across an ocean of blood and nerves is now...just a nail. And it waits, hoping it will be able to nestle in the delicate fibres of someone's cashmere jumper.
The fingernail is always trying to escape its destiny, escape the finger, the chemistry and the body that built it. Even when its host is dead and rotting in the ground it continues to grow away from its station.
This edge of a tectonic plate that once slid across an ocean of blood and nerves is now...just a nail. And it waits, hoping it will be able to nestle in the delicate fibres of someone's cashmere jumper.
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