Tiffany Twisted

"...'last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I couldn't find my whay out...there seemed to be no way out! Suddenly, there were voices down the corridor... it was too dark to see. The smell of earth, damp from the rain was strong. The next thing I remember was opening my eyes to an early morning, pale sunrise..." "So, what do you want from me?" asked the dusky coated private eye. "Mr. Jones, I want you to find her. Whereever she is, just find her."

The Baiting Game

"Grim days lie ahead." He said as he put his empty stein on the table. George couldn't resist, "Where ya from, Catweazle?" "Do you know me boy! Do ya think ya're being funny?" retorted that shaggy, white-haired man with handlebar moustache and goatee beard. The game was on, and George took to it with relish, he loved baiting old folk, "Keep ya shirt on, Nostradamus! I was just being friendly."

Success

It is Saturday, a day pretty much the same as every other Saturday before it. On this day, thie sun shines brightly in a clear blue sky. The gardens, a paradise to behold, are gently caressed by a cool, sea breeze. Fresh coffee in a clean cup rests on my outside table. I am immersed in all the trappings of success - environment, home, family, domestic staff, and pets... a living, breathing 'Hell on Earth!' there is no joy to be found in any of this, and nothing nourishes my soul.

The World of Bob

There is a place for everything and everything has it's place in the world of Bob. If you move something, put it back, exactly where it came from. Even a minor displacement can wreak havok elsewhere. The world of Bob is the engine of the universe. The butterfly effect has real meaning here, it's not just a theory.

The Migrant

When I was a lad, a minimum serve of chips cost around forty cents and with a piece of flake (gummy shark in batter) the total was less than a buck. Within five years the price had doubled. I learned how price was tied to the market fluctuation, partcularly the cost per ton of potatoes. In a period of ten years the owners of the local fish shop had changed from Anglo to Greek to Asian. Jimmy, the first Greek owner made the best hamburgers in the world. It was at this time I started to try and understand migration, and the way migrant families worked, hard, together, to make it in a new country, and make it they did. I never realised, or dreamed that one day I too would be some kind of migrant, expatriate, but first I had to transition from local ittinerant worker to world traveller. This is my story.

The Future

"Predictive forecasting of future change to society, as impacted upon by technological development is difficult at best..." droned the Professor, "...that we know with hindsight change can be swift and pervasive, is an accepted fact..." I shifted uneasily in my chair and fought to keep my eyes open, "...assimilation of change has not resulted in radical makeovers of the social setting, such as depicted in the works of Wells, 'Doc' Smith, Gibson, or even mine, for that matter." A forced giggle bubbled through the auditorium. "You're a blithering idiot..." I thought, not for the first time.

Found

Officer: "Sir! Take a look at this."
Supervisor: "What's the problem?"
Officer: "Well... that's just it, there isn't one... exactly... Sir... just this man there, who doesn't look right - act quite right."
Supervisor: "What do you mean?"
Officer: "Well Sir, it's just that he's not afraid Sir, not even just a little bit..."
Supervisor: "OK. Run a facial scan, let's see what we've got."
Officer: "I did Sir, he's a frequent flyer, but even FF's have a little fear of the security check, yet this guy... Infra-Red, Biometric, Racial, Religious, & Psycho-Stable screening all show this guy is green... super green... I think we've found him, Sir!"
Supervisor: "Who?"
Officer: "The Outlier... Sir..."

The Red Cowled Witch

You may not remember Rupert, he was the old wolf that lived in the forest. Good fella he was, used to protect these lands from marauding humans, well, up until that little, red cloak wearing, sorceress of a girl came along and enchanted some hapless hunter into killing him. Listen now to the tragic tale of the wolf and the red cowled witch.

BBq's

"Bbq's are funny things," he said, "not the physical cooking item but the event itself - you never really know when you're gonna have a good one." The Tong Master of the day reclined in the camp chair, lifted a beer in a silent, reverential toast to the day, upended the can and suddenly began choking on the ring pull that he'd stuck into it earlier in the day. Blood everywhere and a few minutes later we were racing to the hospital. What a disaster!