The wee hours, the morning

You're just about to be attacked by a bear

The rain hit against the husband and wife's newly nuptial bedrooms window and they moved away from each other. They were slightly sweaty and filled with thoughts.

Luck parade

Dalston put his hand into Veira's pocket. She moved, slightly, into him.

Travel by cars

His legs went from beneath him and his head, as it hit the floor, made a thud.

Low, low disposition

The woman walked towards a man carrying a child. -Maybe I could have kids, she thought, by now. The child looked at the woman. -Fuck kids, she thought.

Luck parade

Lillian's coffee maker was making a noise like cat's bodies being broken by crazed children. She was nervous. Though Jefferson said the cake was delicious. He said 'Perfect cup of coffee.

Nothing into less

The TV was showing a rerun of Porridge and the guy was hiding, or not hiding, perhaps unaware that he was hiding food under a blanket. The laughter was riotous.

Variation in colours

A wooden cube was placed on a table next to glass. Slowly, the cube nudged the glass off the table. It fell. It fell, though, onto rich, dak red, sumptuous (oh it was), luxury carpet. The carpet was not fitted. In fact it was a sample. Free and about almost exactly the size of the glass, on the floor. The glass was placed back on the table then pushed off the other side, this time by a very small hand. This time it shattered and the noise was disturbingly loud. Everyone at least blinked. Some even shuddered.

Simple shapes are hard, perhaps

Crawford picked up the child of the man he had just stolen the wallet that was on the floor next to his feet and now empty of cash and coupons from and put the cash and coupons in his pocket then spat on the man then dropped the child to the floor and stamped on the man's head and kicked his face then picked up the man's child again. Both the man and the man's child had bad head injuries now and would probably die. Thing's would've been much simpler, thought Crawford, who wasn't sure of himself at the best of times.

The pavement under our feet

I can see you whether you like it or not because you're inside of me now like how I would go inside of you. Do you remember? The gasp.

Things in darkened corners

The woman hopped over a paving stone which made her bump a shoulder into a person through momentum. The person stumbled back a little then there was a noise behind her and when she turned she saw something and it was horrible, it was so horrible.

Holding hands in the frozen food isle

Jefferson tinked his spoon on the inside of his cup and watched the coffee swirl with the dent in the middle in a nice cup. Lillian was looking at him with her jaw a little slack but not in a slack-jawed way until he looked up, where she looked away and snapped it shut.

The old Europe does not evoke nostalgia, for some

Veira, in a rush, parked her car at a 40Ëš angle, with the front 0.95m on the pavement, approximately and leapt out of the flung open door, eager, and straight head first into the parking metre that she otherwise would have failed to even notice. Knocked unconscious, this is not the sort of thing Veira seems to do often.

Alarm clocks that are good for no-one

Denim is so impersonal and Dalston was lonely. Denim taken off is the best though ' everything is softened up like soaked raisins. The back arched.

Coffee: nicer cold than reheated

Time differences are often a problem. For example years earlier when the husband's father died; it was the night but not where the husband was, only where the father was (had been) so when the phone call came it came to him without foreboding, in the daylight, with coffee in the pot and lawn chairs. At least at night he would've known before he'd picked up and at least he'd of been groggy. Similarly, was how the wife suffered.

The fur of your body

Kidd remembered her first wedding night like it wasn't still in the future. She couldn't help thinking it had been a little disappointing and that maybe she should've drank less. Still¦

Miserable time span

Wrapped in a veil of green lace and with string dressing her wrist, the woman's head dropped and the snapped back up. When it did the same again she reached underneath and using the tears she smudged her face.

Drums and other noises

Veira sat on top of a wall that separated the upper and lower courtyards. Her back was to the upper courtyard and her feet dangled over a long, long drop. She was rolling a cigarette and whispering 'DC and Kidd came up behind her. The wall was very wide so Kidd could climb onto the wall, then walk across it to come up behind Veira to push her, then pull her back, for a surprise. -Have you seen how high this is, said Veira. -What are you doing, said Kidd. -Yeh. Great. I could've died, said Veira. -You can't believe the day I've had, said Kidd, -Relax.
She was sitting next to Veira, rolling her own cigarette.
Kidd's next door neighbour's - the night before last ' water had broken. The next door neighbour's husband or boyfriend had decided that she would be fine at home for a couple more nights. 'He kept telling her to chill the fuck out, imagine that, said Kidd.
Last night, Kidd's sleep was disturbed by the woman's labour screams. The day she'd had was another story. 'Let's go, said Veira.
Kidd and Veira stood up, Veira leaned forward a little and imagined the screams for when she fell, the screams and the rushing as she lay twisted. 'By the way, she thought, -And by the way, said Kidd, what you're doing is sick.

The pillow case inside out

Nutrients were put on hold until the end of the month. She was a prisoner of her own debt, literally marking notches in her notepad. Nights spent in front of the mirror, pulling down her eyelids and pulling down her lips to better see her gums, checking her armpits and her groin and pinching at her hips led to conclusions that were vague but convincing. At this point in time it was Tuesday.

Keys in pockets jangling like keys in other people's pockets

Crawford got into bed. His body ached. He was clean now though ' he had washed in the sink. He rolled onto his side, he rolled onto his front, he bounced onto his back. He smiled with his eyes closed. His body ached like he had done a days work. This felt so good (comfort wrinkled his body).

Three clicks of the door being closed

When they left the house they were surprised by the crowd. They didn't know what it was there for but they took a step back. She even took the time to bow a little. 'This isn't about me, he thought, although his eyes were bloodshot from throwing up in the bathroom, -I didn't know they cared, she said, and they both smiled weakly.

Hold the poor thing, it wants to be held

Days, though, like for example this day, where people are like pretty little things that you want to be near and talking is oh so pretty, like flowers in the rain; the way they jitter in it. Days, though, where other days aren't. That's sad if you're not careful, that's sad if it doesn't stay, which it won't. Today today today. It's not sad. It's not sad.

Soup is good food but this lid's on too tight

The husband put down a plate of eggs in front of the wife, who was smoking and looking at the picture that decorated on the bottom of her cup. It was a picture of a man in a top hat with a cane. He was very handsome. She was looking at it and thinking this and that how did they paint this all the way down inside the cup ' it's very detailed. The husband put an ashtray under her hand, where she was holding her cigarette with her elbow on the table and her wrist flopped backwards and away from her, between her index finger and her middle finger. She wasn't using the cigarette holder which he had bought her and that, he thought, was some gesture (of his) ' he didn't get married to passive smoke. 'He even tapped her finger to drop the long curled ash off and down. She looked up at him, then smiled and looked back into the cup. She put the cigarette in her mouth and moved her head over it, the cup, to look at it again. He poured coffee in from underneath her nose. She was looking at her own reflection now; she always had had good skin.

Trees don't weep, you liar

They lay beneath a sky that could have been anywhere, for all they cared. They lay beneath, looking up and a bird circled high making patterns in the shifting cloud formation, even disappearing in front of the sun sometimes. The grass underneath them was green and the colours of their hair, if you mixed it together, would have glowed like a stone in bright lights.