the invisible met by chance

December 8, 2016


Diary 8th December

Morning: a time for coffee and doughnuts; kisses and cuddles…and some cool jazz sounds. Oh, yeah. Heaven.


So, there’s this rich businessman, a factory worker, and a recent immigrant sitting at a table together. In front of them is this plate of twelve yummy cream chocolate cakes. The rich businessman grabs eleven of them straight off and says to the factory worker, ‘Watch out, that feckin’ immigrant is trying to steal your cake…


Out on the moor there’s one place that’s not clear on the maps. Even Ordinance Survey have it wrong. It’s a place the locals know – and avoid at all cost. There is a sunken lane nearby, but it is a road to nowhere. Everything out there grows stunted in the incessant grey rain. Bones scattered all around: sheep bones, mainly; skulls, ribcages. And, of course, the woman is there…

She may ask you to dance, humming your favourite song in the strangest of ways. Her kisses are colder than death, though. Really, you should not go near her – or her home on the moor. If you do, well, then you’ll become one more lost soul in that damned place.

Have a nice day.

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