Wednesday, May 12, 2010


(By Nick)

Helicopter blades, chopping, whirring, scything. Cold glass, morning condensation rising. Fields below, green and greener still to the horizon.

"15 minutes, sir".

Deoderant, rolling between sweaty armpits and clean white shirts. Two buttons undone. More condensation on the glass, motorway lights snaking through the fog. Houses, sports fields. More motorway lights, implacable and straighter, leading into the next grey mass.

"10 minutes, sir".

Moisturiser on the cheeks, affable smile. Cars down below, keeping pace. A schoolbus, and ambulance. Evidence of change, or the opposite, or… simply data. A dossier, town, industries, profile. Bigger, smaller, poorer, more disillusioned, aspirational, rust belt, green belt, transport hub. The need for better housing is…

"5 minutes, sir".

Faces, black ones, white ones, mostly ugly ones, hostile eyes, prying questions. A smile for the pensioners, a handshake for the local businessmen. An itinerary. school, factory, jobcentre, helicopter, 30 minutes.

"Landing in one minute".

Grey rooftops closing in. Times up, count down, the living dead, where did all the money go? Hospital waiting lists, young soldiers in body bags. Keep on message. Threat to economic stability. Supermarkets, supercasinos, banks shitting out money through horizontal arseholes in the wall. Legacy. An opening door, a tug on the sleeve, jumping to the ground and… Where the fuck am I? Ex-mining town, north-west. Helicopter blades slowing and ceasing. Silence, full of images. That won't bring my son back. Faces, young ones, old ones. Botched operations, she needed those cataracts. Earnings, savings, scroungers, money launderers.

A tug on the sleeve, a road like all the others, houses with blank facades and flags draped out of windows. More faces. It's all about trust. I mean change. Trusting that we can change. Or not. A school filling up with children, more faces and lunchboxes. How old are you? 8, 11, 75, 36. Foreclosures, waiting lists, disappointed faces. Your choices, your fault, your burden, your responsibility, your party, your government, your broken promises, your deficit, your deficiencies, your fallibility, your fatigue, your mismanagement, your interference, your recession, your choices, your fault. Your legacy.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Losing power over night

-Come Wilma, it’s supper time! Would you like to eat, pumpkin?
-No, I want to draw and play and have a bath with Jo-Jo!
-Wilma, darling, we all have to eat to grow big and strong!
-I don’t want to eat
-Come on, honey, it’s getting late
-You’re stupid
-What did you call me?
-STUPID. Stupid, stupid, STUPID mommy
-That’s enough, Wilma, now come here and eat. What would you like?
-Dotted sausage sandwich
-There’s no sausage, Wilma honey. Cheese sandwich, or yoghurt?
-Dotted sausage on hard bread
-There is none
-But I want that! I want, I want, I want... Mommy, that’s what I want!
-How about a ham sandwich? That will be yummy...
-Come on, Wilma, it’s almost time for bed
-It’s ham sandwich or nothing!
-Here you go, honey, a nice ham sandwich with nice cucumber!
Arms-crossed-over-chest silence
-Wilma, little one, don’t you like cucumber?
Arms-over-chest-while frowning-silence
-I want to eat banana, mommy
-I want to eat banana, like you, mommy!
Big sigh-silence
-This is my banana, that is your ham sandwich
-But I want banaaaaanaaaa
-There is no banana. Now eat your sandwich
-I want bananaaaa

Abandoned-last-banana-on-the-dinner table-silence

-It’s late, Wilma pumpkin. Shall we go to bed?
-Come on, honey, tomorrow you have preschool again
-No! I don’t wanna to go to preschool
-Wilma sweetheart, you have to go to preschool
-Wilma, mommy is tired. Let’s go to bed
Tired- on-the verge of desperation-silence
-Come on pumpkin, let’s go together!
-No! You’re stupid!
-What did you call me, Wilma?
-Stupid, STUPID mommy!
-That’s enough, Wilma. I’m going to bed, now you come with me or stay here all night!
-Well, I’m going. Bye, Wilma, good night!

Hungry-child-alone-in-the dark silence
Child-eating-nice ham sandwich with nice cucumber-silence
Parents-snoring in the background-silence

Mother-entering kitchen to make coffee-silence
Mother-finding a monster in her kitchen-silence
Teenage girl with a black leather jacket with the text DARKNESS sleeping on the kitchen table-silence

Teenage girl poking out pierced tongue-silence
-Wilma, pumpkin, when did you become so big?