A student of journalism has to complete an assignment. The only couple willing to give their time, present much more than the offered scoop; something which will challenge the student’s mind, and pose a question, forever.

Avril Lane

It was very clear to Avril Lane, I was pretty naïve. She felt comfortable with me because of it, at ease, and thinking about it now, I think that’s why she opened up to me. I’d just turned seventeen, with so much to learn, and such a long time ahead to achieve it. But I had ambition early on.

“Do you want a scoop? All journalists hunger for a scoop these days it seems.”

“If you have one, but my assignment is more—”

“General? On old people’s points of view, on all our difficulties – no doubt, it’s been done to death already, hasn’t it?”

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A young man’s journey from tragedy to fulfilment with a little aid from family, friends and dog.

Do Not Let Go

I couldn’t move. I heard the people in the room and understood them. Getting thirsty sometimes was a pain, but most of all, I would have murdered someone for a Big Mac! It’s what I mostly remembered, the image of the mayo dripping from the side and the constant struggle to stop the burger from flying out just before my bite. The burger picture kept reoccurring in my mind with a little plastic yellow-eyed monster, which came with it free. It had four arms, two legs, but would not stand up-right on the table.

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CONTAINS BAD LANGUAGE

A young girl’s dream of escaping to a better future, through love, or writing, or the love of writing.

Escape Thy Destiny

‘Screw me, is that the time?’ Emma’s mum nearly swallowed the half Richmonds roll-up dangling from her lower lip.

‘Oh mum…do you have to be so coarse? I’m off today, I told you yesterday I’m going to the Book Club!’

‘Book Club what ruddy Book Club? What…the library you mean? Why don’t you just say library then like everybody else? What’s got into you anyway Emma, you’ve changed some since that Reg fella came sniffing round d’you know that… all high’n’bleedin mighty now aren’t we—?’

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A startling account of some children’s capacity for cruelty and the possible results.

Mouse

It never ceases to amaze me how cruel some children are, or can be. Whenever I read something in the local press related to them negatively, or notice a similar incident on TV, my mind immediately turns to Jimmy, then, right away my thoughts move on to Mousy. Mousy, for we never knew his real name at that time, seemed to us, the prime example of an ancient man, but in our early youth anyone and everyone over forty was old, so when I come to re-evaluate it now, I realise he simply carried the burden of those sixty years with quiet and simple pride.

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A vignette of a day and an incident in Spain. An alternative view of the traditional image of this beautiful country.

Note in Pocket

Mi madre, padre, Carmena,

I am hoping this finds you all well and strong.

They killed a rabbit this morning, the enemy. They are as jittery as we. We, if the others are still out there. We of course knew all about the rabbit, we had seen it, studied its run for the last month or so. We discussed various plans for hours, good plans, to get that rabbit into the pot with all the local herbs we have here, wild garlic, bay leaf, cumin also grow abundantly, the smell of it follows every nearby blast.

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