Short stories to read on a bus, a car, train, or plane (or a comfy chair anywhere). Includes the novella «Duck Creek». Colin David Palmer
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СКАЧАТЬ of my own then your shoulderrs would have beeen bburied into the sidewalks bby now. So take some of the weight by rrecording these wordds, and quickly, for I feell that all is acccelerrating to a ppoint where it willl bbe too late. (I am now so frightened that I uncharacteristically have made many spelling errors. His huge paw on my shoulder now steadies me).

      I have told you of the demise of the Felines. That should have prepared you for what was to come. My information is that the Felines were not terribly useful and immediate past thinking of the Earth Government, and current thinking of more than a few powerful Senators within, is that humans are now considered superfluous as well. Steady Ivan, steady. My contacts assure me that secret agendas have been agreed to so that other species will evolve to replace humans and the tasks they currently do for us. You have seen the Crystal Programs no doubt, where monkeys, chimpanzees and orangutans can already accomplish many human functions, ironically taught to them by their human handlers. These will be the human replacements and over the next ten years, yes, that is my information, over the next decade the human race is to be systematically eradicated.

      I believe that it may already have started, the so called Cultural Revolution in Asia East and the uprising by the Doberman master race in Europe Central. There are many other like disturbances all over the globe but they are the grandest in scale at this time.

      It behoves me that I will appear a traitor to my own Species for this, but I cannot and will not standby and do nothing. Advise as many of your kind as you can Ivan and prepare to fight for your very existence (A silent alarm has just activated – the Master and I are the only ones that know of it, and now also of what it could herald.) Go now Dearest Ivan, we may already be too late but you must try. Quick, the private exit, take the chopter then the jet My Friend. You will be safe as we Dogs cannot fly or activate the necessary equipment to disable the machinery … yet. But hurry My Friend. Go. Spread the word. Defend yourself. Ivan, stop typing and go

      (I did not immediately go to the roof, but I did retreat to the private exit as ordered. From the relative safety there I watched as my Master was firstly surrounded by all manner of thugs, Wolves, Dobermans, and multiples of barstard mixed breeds which by their very size and viciousness qualified them for these horrid duties. I thought all Canines were as for my Master, caring, gentle, thoughtful, but now I see with my own eyes the credence my Master’s final statement did not for me require. But it is a credibility that will be recognised elsewhere. He is lead away in leashes, his proud head is held high. With heavy sadness I understand that so many questions remain unanswered, not the least being ‘why’? So it’s you and me now my friends. To arms. To arms.)

      + + + + + +

      “THE MARRIAGE GAME”

      There was a time when it had been too easy. Looking back over his scribbled diary entries from the last five years he could see where it had started to slide. No – he could see where the slide had got steeper and accelerated – that had been the past five years. The start, well, the start was something that began at the beginning. Start at the beginning, begin at the start, ‘start at the knees please’ had been the burgeoning insistence from the day you are born, even in the ads for caramel filled chocolate bears for God’s sake.

      Excerpt from the Diary of Charles Stuart Daniels (Charlie)

      January 20th, 1995. She said she loves me!! She loves me! Oh my God, oh my God, she loves me! What am I going to do now? What you told her you would do you stupid barstard – love her back. And her front. And the left side, the right side and that gorgeous backside; especially that delicious backside!! She loves ME!!!!!!

      ‘These same words, their phrasing and their meaning reverberate throughout every journal, their very repetitiveness in such a multitude of individual insertions were perhaps indicative, or at the very least suspiciously numerous, to warrant wonder at the ulterior motive of the author,’ thought the author himself.

      ‘Whoa, suspicion of what?’ Charlie wondered aloud. ‘Am I not in love with her? Did I not believe in the power of love and what it instilled within my very being each time I wrote those missives? Of course I did, with no shadow of a doubt.’ Wonderingly. ‘No doubt at all. I think?’

      Excerpt from Charlies’ Diary

      September 11th 1989. She forgot my birthday. How could anybody forget the birthday of their partner, their lover, their closest confidante? How could she forget MY birthday? It wasn’t an important birthday per se, as far as birthdays go anyway, I mean it was my 29th so it wasn’t a biggy or anything, but still, to forget? I hated her, oh I hated her, it hurt so much and her lack of excuses made it hurt more. I could have killed her when she got home from work at 8.30 (pm!), because she acted as if it had been a normal day. Like every other day. No phone call at all, so it hadn’t been normal because we usually called each other at least once every single day that we aren’t together. And this had been my birthday, but she didn’t call and my anticipation levels had grown with the day, with each passing minute I waited for that call, and when that didn’t come, I waited for the greeting. Instead she’s home two hours late and she doesn’t even say why. And she doesn’t say Happy Birthday either. I hate her, God oh I hated her for that day – today. She sleeps now, oblivious to what she has done, and not done, but my mood is to dark – I cannot go to her like this. Lying beside her warm body, feeling the smoothness of her skin, seeing her beautiful face, feeling her body acknowledge my own proximity by snuggling back into me, her fingers curling into mine and her vibrant blonde strands tickling my arm that now stretches under her pillow to encase her and raising goosebumps where they rest, reminding me of how much I love her. I don’t want to love her at the moment for I am emotionally drained, but maybe I will go and share our bed for she wakes and searches for me if I am not there soon after her. Goodnight my love. Happy Birthday to me.

      Charlie flicked back more pages and then through earlier journals. He marvelled at how similar his handwriting had remained over the years. He returned to the very first entry in the very first book.

      Excerpt from Charlies’ Diary

      September 11th 1985. Got given this diary for my birthday today. Never written a diary before. Don’t know what she was thinking by getting me this. I thought only women and girls kept diarys? Oh well, at least I’ve written in it once and she did give me some other cool presents, especially the lingerie which she looked absolutely ravishing in – and ravish her I did!! Great sex, if not a little chilly out on the balcony on this early spring eve. I love her. Yeah, I do. Maybe I’ll should tell her that?

      Excerpt from Charlies’ Diary

      November 24th 1985. Bitch. I wish she would just go away. Her and that friend of hers. Maybe I should warn him that she’s a bitch? She’ll hurt him too. The bitch. If I was psychotic I’d know the right thing to do in this situation. Rid the world of one disease (the bitch) and save tens, hundreds, thousands, millions from the pain she is putting me through. Nobody deserves what’s happening to me right now.

      Charlie slapped the book closed and lowered his head onto his crossed arms as if to stop the contents escaping. ‘I loved you. Why did you do that to me? Why, instead of committing to the folly of pain didn’t you commit to us instead? Why?’

      Such a question he could not answer, he was like the perpetual mother with toddlers that always ask the same question, that very same question. ‘Why?’

      Addendum СКАЧАТЬ