Edible Shorts

1. Klapped Out Records
The entrance to Klapped Out Records cowered between an all night
laundry and a private shop on the West Kilton Road. You wouldn't notice
the cracked paintwork if you weren't looking for it and, even if you
where, it didn't scream major recording label. So, by the time Pete
Wilson was running his finger down the corroded nameplates, he was
already lowering his expectations. Klapped Out Publishing. Klapped Out
Motor Insurance. Klapped Out Windows. Klapped Out Holdings. And, at the
very bottom, written in eroded ink, Klapped Out Rec. please press #2.
He pressed bell number two, and snapped his hand away as a stray shiver
of bad wiring leapt up his strumming arm.

2. Resignation
The alarm went off exactly three minutes before the blast. Kade had
calculated this was exactly the time he would need to clear the blast
zone. Although his calculations had been methodical and diligent,
unfortunately he had not counted on the Volvo failing to start. He had
driven the beast through walls, across the Rhine and down the side of
the Matterhorn. Penetrating drizzle however, had defeated the seals. He
turned it over again, pressed too hard on the accelerator and flooded
the engine. He showed not a flicker of emotion. There were only 56
seconds left on the clock, when Kade calmly unbuckled his seat belt,
got out, carefully locked the door, patted the roof, and walked slowly
into the tranquil night.

3. A Passenger
She was a terrible ride in every sense. She was punctually late. She
smoked in the back of the cab, and sometimes ate greasy burgers. She
didn't laugh at his jokes. She told him his waist was too big and his
penis was too small. He only felt happy when he could see her in his
rear view mirror. He'd tilt it down to spy on the hem of her skirt
dithering over her knees, and watch the bones in her knuckles rippling
under skin, teasing puffy whiteness from under her ring. He couldn't
keep his eyes on the road. He couldn't keep his eye off her. It was as
if she had consumed the taxi, with him inside.

4. The Man from the Government and His Wife, Asleep
They move in dark synchronicity, spelling out their dreams in the
semaphore of the night. The duvet tug of war ends in a stalemate,
contestants counterbalanced against each other at the edge of the
precipice. Teddy, unsleeping umpire, wants to cut the rope. Teddy's
eyes flash in the strobe of taillights making their way to Birmingham,
Manchester, and beyond. Teddy remembers, before the war, when they
spooned their nights away, touching, holding, duets of breathing. Back
then, the light from plastic stars shone until morning. Now the fire is
not so friendly. He's always too tiered. She's evaporating. His dreams
don't protect him from the day. Her days don't make-up for the nights.
Teddy looks through a sliver of curtain and doesn't see anything at
all.

5. An Explanation
In the future, the reasons won't be so clear. Aren't reasons just
excuses anyway? It won't matter - how they got here, or why, -they'll
be here all the same. Waving flags, tearing down the old life. Don't
get me wrong, I wasn't so fond of the old life. We should not fear
change. But we do. We like everything to be the same, and that's the
one thing that is guaranteed not to happen. Change means the unknown,
but is that what we fear? The human animal is adaptable and cunning. He
can shed skin and grow another of a different shade. The human animal
is perfectly adapted to change. So what do we fear in change? The
success of the human animal in not just in adaptation, it is in
prediction. To evaluate the current situation and anticipate the
outcome. To guess what form transformation should take to give the best
chance of survival. When we cannot do this we become afraid. And that
is what I fear. Not change, but the anticipation that it will not be
for the better.

6. After the End
She steps down from the cab, over a puddle and into the crowd. She
practised the motion joining parties down the grand staircase O'mere.
But this gathering does not turn and gasp. The men and women huddle
into themselves and watch the pavement. It is a dangerous road. There
are many cracks. She tries to keep her head raised, but she spots a
sentry, eyes flicking over hats. Her necklace is hidden, but his eyes
are sharp, penetrating, and full of revenge. She dips her head and
walks on, trying to adopt the slouch of a common girl. She had to wear
it. It was all she could save when O'mere was stormed. It's all she has
to elevate her above this mass. She walks on. Then she hears the words
she fears most, excuse me ma'am, and the snap of a safety catch being
released. She will not scream, she has promised that much to
herself.

7. A Ticket
Blank cheques, waste paper and lighter fluid were all it took to ensure
Bernie's Little Scam never made the papers. After that there was a
brief moment of anxiety at Terminal 4, before climbing his first steps
to The Easy Life. He had told Sheila that he would send for her, but he
had no intention. Sheila wasn't the sort of wife he wanted in Rio. She
sweated when the first shoots of an English spring came, and moaned
through hot summer afternoons. He was travelling first class from now
on. He ordered a Large G and T and winked at the hostess. She smiled
back, and not like the fake smiles you get back in economy, but warm,
promising. He loosened his tie, then removed it all together. He would
not need a tie in Rio. He would need new clothes, fresh linen shirts,
deck shoes, maybe a cravat. And sunglasses. He would need sunglasses.
The woman sitting next to him wore sunglasses and a large pink hat. She
was slim and had implants and gripped the armrests until her knuckles
where white. He asked her about her sunglasses and after a while she
took them off and the pink hat too.

8. What Happened Next
At the tree museum, we learned at squirrels zapping between branches.
They never fell. Then we ate ice cream in cones that melted and dripped
through the wafer. Mum was smiling. There were wasps around the bins
and they were angry, even though they had enough to eat. In the car
Terry was sick. I didn't like the smell. I watched the seagulls soaring
above the bay. They climbed higher and higher, until it seemed they
would scrape the roof of the dome. But they never did. At the
checkpoint they checked our boots and the trunk. The man winced when he
smelled Terry's sick. They made mum clean it out. Then she went inside
the building with the man. They were a long time. When she came back,
she wasn't smiling anymore. We crossed back into the city and I gave
Terry his inhaler, and we slipped our masks back on. Mum had something
in her eye already. I handed her a tissue, and she said - well kids,
welcome back to the real world.

9. The Written Word
These tracks were laid before the locomotive left the mind. These roads
were written in the sand before the land was known. Tropical sunsets
and rubber singe our crew cuts, but all our waking hours, we have
surrendered to our beds. We trod the line. We toed the foot. Exchanged
blessings when the two streams met. But the wheels are spinning, the
flywheel loose. Together we couldn't make a difference, so alone?
Spread out, cover the bases, grab a spanner, and hit where it
hurts.

10. But this Time It Was Only a Dream
I took a swig, bit down hard on the glass, our finest whiskey tumbler,
and piece of the glass came away, leaving the outline of a country
behind. I put it in the dishwasher. I took it out of the dishwasher.
The glass was mended. I put it back in the dishwasher. I took it out.
The glass was broken. Every word I said was a line from a song, not any
song, but The Song, the one we all sing. Every word was resonant and
loud. It could shatter glass. It did shatter glass. But the glass could
be mended. I was starting to realise, the water, the swimmers, and the
Frankfurt motor cross trials - none of it was real. It was an effort to
move through the water. It had no other function than to hold me back.
I could not let that happen. I wondered, if we had never left the
water, when our fishy science reached out into the world of air, would
we have taken its lack of resistance to be negative, rather than the
norm?