Tannenbaum

It's dark and magical, with no light whatsoever apart from the colourful glisten of tiny lights. I sit on the floor with my knees raised, and fantasise about the miniature fairy perched on top coming to life. As in a festive film, I could secretly befriend her, and steal some of her valuable time for myself. I am absolutely certain that we will have so much in common, kindred spirits, in fact. Now, though, I notice that she is nothing more than a doll, a trinket, a decoration, and that this was all in my head. No, it's not the fairy but the tree himself who is coming to life, gradually sprouting limb-like tufts, and slowly, but very surely approaching me.

A man walking his dog

Going for a stroll, a man and a dog.
As the weather worsens, the dog's lead gradually disappears, and before the man's very eyes, the dog becomes a floating, flitting plastic carrier bag. It continues to follow him attentively, and the stroll is continued.

In the garden, in the garden

Monday
Girl: There are two foxes in the garden, there are two foxes in the garden!

Tuesday
Girl: There are two foxes in the garden, there are two foxes in the garden!

Wednesday
Girl: There are two foxes in the garden, there are two foxes in the garden!

Sunday
Girl: There are two children in the garden!
Boy: You're fox-mad, you are!

I took their flack

They crept in behind me. I was intimidated by them as they were bullies, so I let them go ahead with their business, party business. Drinking business. Laughing business. Being sick business, all over the floor and the walls and the entire place. Cat business, many many forbidden cats. But I let them. I had no choice. I knew it would all end in tears.

And it did when she returned, fuming, and I had no choice but to claim them as my friends. I made their excuses, I took their flack. And they left, elated and floating in party business, while my world crashed down. They had forgotten their cats, though, and to clean up the sick. She and I scrubbed with soapy sponge as the cats of all shapes and sizes (lots were as small as insects) rubbed against our ankles.

Then the ringleader of those who meant business returned, pleasant and apologetic, which I accepted graciously. Until my beloved pet mouse was grabbed, and its feeble head torn from it's tiny body.

'Just to let you know what will happen to you if you damage or lose any of my miniscule, or otherwise, kitties'.

The Manager

The Manager takes the stage. The office workers are the audience. The Manager delivers a long, inspirational speech. But he is mute. Noone can hear him and nothing is coming out. Yet his disciples cheer with passion at every pause. The muted Manager demonstrates his silent plans, projections and figures. At the end, he grins successfully. The audience look to each other, enlightened. It's time for the big one, the last hoorah! Everyone claps and roars with cheer. But their applause is inaudible. All gone.

A Kiss

A boy and a girl sit on the sofa, kissing passionately, but not making any physical contact apart from with their lips. In the girl's hand, clutched tightly, is a disposable razorblade.

A night at a four star hotel

Tokyo Heart

Girls who look like dolls. Grown women who wear school uniform. Cartoon characters as sex objects. Strangle, asexual 'butlers', always on cell phones. An old man who catches a train back and forth, just to speak to people, and who can't stop talking. A maid in a kissa who just wants to make friends from anywhere but Tokyo.

Panic Situation

Keira told me that it would be a good idea to saw off my own head. She told me that she, herself, did it all the time, and that it took about six months to fully grow back. She said 'You can just wear a big hat and big sunglasses. I do it all the time. You'll look weird, you won't look like a normal person...I mean, you'll have no head! But it's the thing to do. And it's what I do'. She was so persuasive, and made it sound like such a good idea, that I took a saw and sawed around my neck, so that at the slightest nudge, my head would have toppled right off. Then, suddenly, a thought occured to me: 'If I have no head for six months, then I'll have no eyes, and that would make me blind for a while, which I'm not used to, and really don't want to be! Also, without a head, I'll have no brain ! Shit!' This was a real panic situation. I had suddenly decided that it was definitely a BAD idea to have no head, but I'd already almost-completely sawed my head off. If I'd have moved without holding my head on, or slightly pushed, my head would've tumbled off. But I found a big pot of cream that would help. It was a thick, clay-like paste, and I frantically grabbed handfuls of it, and blunderingly rubbed them into my bloody, severed neck, in a desperate attempt to keep my head.

Beep

Boyfriend: I'm going out now. If you hear a beep, don't worry, it'll the be the smoke alarm. I can't get it to stop beeping. I put it in the cellar so it shouldn't bother you, but if you do hear it, don't be alarmed. Excuse the pun.
Girlfriend: Okay, no problem, have a lovely time. I'll see you when you get back.
(They kiss, grudgingly)
(Boyfriend strides away and the door slams shut)
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP (Already?) BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP (It's really loud considering it's down in the cellar) BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP (Hell, it's getting really annoying now) BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE (Right that's it, I'm going down there) P BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP (Girlfriend slowly descends the dark, stinking stairs, reaches the night black cellar, clumsily gropes for the switch, and eventually relieves the suspense by allowing light to flood the dank room)
Little girl in the cellar: Beep Beep (grinning horribly) Beep Beep (now laughing powerfully) BEEP BEEP

Disturbing future

Mum is old and can't speak English anymore. Everyone is saddened by her affliction, everyone feels sorry for her. She has, unfortunately, developed strange and horrific lumps along her ankle. They may be painful or dangerous, poor her. Everyone examines them and look sympathetically at one another. I, myself, cautiously step forward and take a close inspection. These are no ordinary lumps. No, these are difinitely new toes forming, bulbous and protuding in five, with toenails and everything. Has noone else noticed that Mum is growing an extra foot? This shocks me to the point that I feel compelled, yet terrified, to check my own ankle. To my absolute repulsion, the smallest of lumps have begun to form in a small row. No! I roll up my jean to see something even more sickening..... seven long toes emerging from beneath the surface of my knee. Now nothing can conceal this abnormality and there is no escape or going back. This is it now.

Waking up in Phnom Penh

A beautiful lady standing absolutely still in a glass box, staring at the bustling chaos of the city from her frozen stance. Ten people dressed as bees riding on motos. Young girls that wear a different colour every day, based on the days of the week.

Noodles

Banal office space.
I stare at a bowl of rubber bands until they are noodles.

Karaoke dream

We frequented a karaoke bar and got blind drunk. They also showed films at the same place. The guy working there was a tiny man, a dwarf who was also disabled in the fact that he had small wheels instaed of hands. He was, incidentally, somewhat of a film buff.
One day, we went there, just he two of us.
Our clever friend said 'I prophesise that your friend, you know the one, will die.'
We fell about laughing it off. 'If she's going to die, what will she die of then?'
He looked at us as if we were idiots. 'What's the matter with you two? Were you both born with big 'S's on your heads or something?'
'You don't mean?' I suddenly freeze in stark realisation of what he is talking about.
He grins in cold knowingness.

A different bug outside each door

Night time. An exotic place. A hotel with a sign that reads 'HOTEL'. The girl emerges from her bed. She tiptoes towards the door and opens it cautiously. Nothing prepares her for what she faces: not only is there a special friend at her feet, but there is actually a different bug outside EACH door. What a corridor.

Tellyhead

Boy: Dad, can I turn on the telly?
Dad: Okay, go on then.
(The boy pulls a cord under his chin. His face lights up. Hid Dad watches intently.)