Saturday Morning Coffee

What would I do, my darling, without hope

of your smile?

Without the foresight you bring to each weary mile that I

walk, for six days in seven,

in getting to you,

my scant piece of heaven, fallen without hurt,

like a fledgling bird,

as soft and determined, your every

word to me

is beauty,

is sense,

is joy,

in a world where there seems

a thrum of white

noise that invades me, without ask or invite,

that wakes me too early, in yet dark, fearful

nights where your voice,

softly resonates,

calling me to Saturday morning’s grace:

calling: come sit

with the sun on your back,

calling:

stay,

I have all

the wonder

you have pined for

and lacked, in an arduous,

eternal week,  

spent counting and hiding

that which

your soul seeks,

come, 
now,

lean on me,

and hear only

the wind in these trees, 
inhale coffee

and vanilla

as the gentle breeze

wraps around us, melting present and past,

there is only this moment today:

let me

make you
laugh.  

    

Shelter

   

Take me by the hand, and lead me amongst my scars:

touch every one

and it is reborn, a star at your fingertips, each fear,

all harm; nought but sweet air now,

in the safest of

arms, and feather-pillows,

deep, soul-cleansing

kiss –  and you can ask me never,

to live

without this, or the whispers

that all shimmer

and bend,

as it falls from your lips: “my twelve,

out of ten”,

and somewhere

inside me, spread wings, as doves soar,

behind all of the blinds,

and the skin,

and the tightly closed

door, on those predators, circling,

out there: because none of it matters with

your breath

on my hair,

and all of your fragrant

warmth,

at my back – here, there is nothing I

could want for, or lack in the depths of my soul:

- no panic,

 - no holes,

can exist

when you say what you see:

strong, brave, beautiful me, no damage,

inside or out:

nobody’s prey, no doubt

I have grown

like a Guelder Rose,

covered in thorns

from my head to my toes, but

bearing more petals than you ever

might know without equal wounds from the spikes – and I beg you now please

don’t

 turn off the lights,

for you make me

 more woman

than I’ve ever been – and I want to remember

all I have seen, tonight,  

in the truth of your eyes,

neither one of us

with need for disguises, nor pantomime masks;

for here lies the sacred moment,

we both

were shelter

at last.

Unfaithful

This could be

any love story,

if I whispered about your eyes,

if I brought tears to mine

and cried out about the sanctity

of your arms.

This could be

any declaration,

any abject devotion, if I honoured

the shining temple of you,

left offerings at your altar like

a stupid pilgrim seduced.

It could be any

tale of tender worship, any yarn of salvation,

if I prostrated before you, and polished your

ruby-studded wings…

It could be any of these things,

if it weren’t for the sacrifices

and martyrdoms of your cross

born upon a back so beautiful

and the tears of blood I let

weep forth

from their host.

So come, come now my deity,

entomb me softly in your

feathered embrace

and mark my emerald eyes, 

remind me of the moment

we decided

it was better this way?

Remind me why,

my faith grew weak,

and I promise,

I will let you go.

Requiem for the Ghost of Forever

A ceiling above us, and a floor below,

don’t touch, don’t touch,

this forever-ghost,

watch the cracks

 as they spread and flow,

all mine for the taking,

if I want it,

I know. Stop.

Stop, at the edges,

put your hands out now,

and knock me, tender, to the floorboard-ground,

roll me beneath you and without a sound,

speak the words, say them over again.

Listen, listen – can you hear

the rain, on the slates,

down the chimney shaft? Raise an eyebrow, make me

laugh, like the water

as it scurries through drains – watch the forever-ghost wax

and wane, like a moon in the window pane.

Lay, lay,

lay my head

on your shoulder,

so much time now;

past and older, so much tomorrow

and yesterday grown colder,

so much ‘sorry’ already…too much.

All passed,

all is trust,

in your eyes as you smile and make plans;

and the forever-ghost sits down

on the

bottles and

cans of a barely contained future,

she bows her head, as a weary creature,

for she knows

the awful truth.

Those words are spoken again,

and I cannot answer - because it isn’t you.

And the forever-ghost fades away to nothing,

leaving behind her,

a deepening blue.

An Awful Palaver

   

Mr Chichester-Fortiscue (exasperated): “Insert the pole here, Mrs Ramsey…do you see, into this hole. There should always be something in every hole. I can’t do it all myself and hold these ropes tight to boot!”

Mrs Ramsey: “Well…yes Mr Chichester-Fortiscue, I quite agree…it is most preferable to fill all the holes at once. I’m trying, but I seem to be having a little trouble with this one. You see the pole feels rather too large. It’s a terrible squeeze, and it’s very long. I don’t know quite how to handle it on my own and I’m not entirely sure the hole will accommodate it. I’m rather nervous to try whilst I’m entangled in these bonds. Do you think you could push a little harder from your end and we might manage it together? I simply don’t understand it…I’m really very experienced, I’ve never had such bother before. Do you think the pole could be bent Mr Chichester-Fortiscue? Perhaps it’s gone limp in the middle?”

Mr Chichester-Fortiscue: “Mrs Ramsey! I assure you, this pole is neither bent nor limp!!! There is nothing wrong with this pole at all! It’s a very fine pole indeed. It simply requires some careful manipulation to perform satisfactorily. I feel perhaps it is you who are being too heavy handed in your approach!”

Mr Gatesgill: “Heavy handed, Chichester-Fortiscue? Oh no. I’ve always had her down as very conscientious. Slow and steady, I grant you, but she gets the job done, and done very well in my experience. Do you require some assistance Mrs Ramsey?”

Mrs Ramsey: “Oh, thank you kindly Mr Gatesgill…that does make me feel so much better about the whole mess. We really are struggling… Mr Chichester-Fortiscue is trying to insert his pole into this rather tight hole and it’s become an awful palaver! We’ve been at it for at least twenty minutes and I can’t feel a thing at my end yet. Usually it’s been snugly in by now, with just a little wiggle either side, but this time…in and out, in and out…and not very far in at that! It keeps getting stuck. I’m afraid Mr Chichester-Fortiscue thinks it ‘s my fault, and he’s rather losing his temper.”

Mr Gatesgill: “Right-ho Mrs Ramsey… Ah  yes…it’s nothing to fret about. I’ve seen this happen many times. Quite normal. It’s easily sorted. Now then…you take hold of the hole here and hold it open like this…yes that’s it, that’s wonderful Mrs Ramsey…and we’ll feed the pole in gently, bit at a time. Are you quite ready? “

Mrs Ramsey: “As I’ll ever be gentlemen.”

Mr Gatesgill: “Very well…push Chichester-Fortiscue…ah yes, it is rather a snug fit, isn’t it? Harder man, harder…put some effort into it! That’s better!! I can really feel that now! Is it coming Mrs Ramsey?”

Mrs Ramsey: “Oh…oh…I say, do be careful! Not so roughly Mr Gatesgill…you’re going to tear something…ouch! Ow! Stop…stop, I say…don’t just ram it in! You’re being too forceful, that’s rather hurting me!!”

Mr Chichester-Fortiscue: “My sincere apologies dear…old Gatesgill here can be something of a beast and a brute…can you feel anything yet?”

Mrs Ramsey: “Yes, yes…I think so Mr Chichester-Fortiscue…I think I’m just beginning to feel the end of it. Push it faster now, that’s right, Just twist it a little to the left…oh  yes, YES! That’s it!!! …now back to the right…that’s it…here it comes…push! Push harder gentlemen! Oh, that’s just the ticket, it’s all the way in! …Now then…this part goes up the bottom. Come and pull these ropes tighter Mr Gatesgill! Oh that’s fantastic…there it is poking out the other side! What a joy to behold after all that effort!”

Mr Chichester-Fortiscue: “A joy to behold indeed, Mrs Ramsey…damn fine tent! The boy scouts will be thrilled!”

Mrs Ramsey: “I’m so glad I could be of assistance, Mr Chichester-Fortiscue, Mr Gatesgill. You just be sure to show the Scouts a good time this weekend.”

Mr Gatesgill: “Oh we certainly will, Mrs Ramsey…I’ve thought of nothing else all week.”

     

Best Laid

  

“We must give up the life we had planned so as to embrace the life that is waiting for us.”

- Joseph Campbell

“This night is frigid, relief

long overdue; all the stones
of the planets are turning to
you and all gentle and ochre-pink;
…sinking in sandstone
if only to think
about moons and deserts and
the skies overhead,
as I crawl beneath the blankets
of lonely reed beds of seaweed
and stars above clay…
that sinks fast enough;
just;
to draw you away from my reach
when I stretch out my fingers
and suddenly know
that I long to linger here
among birth-light and
moments renewed
to be ever warmer and
nearer to dew…and grass
and to morning’s sweet haze,
that evens union with life;
a dirty-glass gaze; and the want
to buckle…or fold…and fill beautiful days
with sapphire and gold that holds only
my tightly locked doors…

If I lay down and ask you

for soul-aching more…can you say
how far you would go?”

“Darling, I need not even
follow…leave no breadcrumbs,
no trail of deceit…
for what has never had
a head; can surely never have
feet to walk on, on transitory
sand; no art, no substance
on which to stand; only
heart, and feeling;
sacred, older things…
bleeding until
we could staunch the sting of past
and hold it all
down and back
with all angels and empty dunes…

Elves (and I) will always reside

under the very same
sky as you; granting wishes
that often ring true; but promising
this,
and this alone: whatever
was planned we were meant to let
go; to free us now,
to tomorrow’s hold and the evergreen sprites,
for who are we to kick and fight against
more noble schemes;
in honour of something
so small
and stunted
as chasing lost
and unintended
dreams?”  
   

#Fridayflash - Thrills

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!” he said, staring at her incredulously, over the top of his sunglasses as they waited for the lights to change. Martin’s leather-gloved hands gripped the steering wheel of the low sports car a little harder in irritation. “You’re doing it again!”

Felicity was slow to respond. She dragged her eyes, lazily, from the buttocks of a workman who was filling a pothole outside the passenger window. She frowned, as though Martin had been rude to interrupt her.

“What..? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said, half-heartedly…and quite obviously aware of exactly what he was talking about.

“Oh, Flick, please, don’t try to be cute!” Martin said tersely, biting out his words. “It doesn’t suit you. Just put your damn tongue in, will you?!” Felicity’s mouth fell open in stunned disbelief and she felt her skin bristle with annoyance.

“Well! I am sorry, darling…” she feigned sweetness, rolling her eyes. “I hadn’t realised how much you dislike it when I admire something pretty.”

Martin ignored her, trying to be dignified…but as he pulled away from the lights with gusto, the revving of the powerful engine betrayed him.

“At least I only admire things…” Flick continued, deliberately provoking. “I mean…when they’re not mine… I don’t just go and take them…I’m not like you…”

“Flick…” Martin finally bit the hook. “That’s different! You can’t start complaining about that now! You knew what I was like when you met me…I’ve never lied to you. And let’s face it, you don’t exactly refuse the benefits I bring home, do you?”

“Maybe not…,” she smirked wickedly for a moment. “I’ll admit it, I do enjoy those… But I could live without them, Martin. The problem is, I really don’t think you could…and someday, your luck’s gonna run out. You won’t always be this young and in demand, you know!”

“Maybe I won’t…” he replied, pulling the car into the mouth of an industrial estate. “And then, maybe I’ll try and live without this…but would you really want that now? I’d be bored and grouchy all the time, Flick! I need the excitement…the danger! I have to have the thrills, the variety, or it’s like I can’t breathe!” He sighed heavily at the sight of her sceptical frown. “Please…don’t look at me like that! It’s just what makes me tick, that’s all. I don’t do it to upset you, Flick…I do it because I need to. I’m not me without it…and if the truth be known, you wouldn’t be you either.”

Martin pulled the car against the curb outside what looked like an empty warehouse. Felicity raised an eyebrow at him when he reached for the door handle.

“We’re not done here.” She said, pointedly.

“Just stay in the car,” he told her. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Watching Martin disappear into the warehouse, Felicity considered the things he’d said. It was true, she had always known, and she really did like the benefits of his ‘danger’ and ‘excitement’. Martin was always so wired afterwards…he literally came alive! But she wasn’t always sure it was worth it. Lately, Flick seemed constantly worried. Every time Martin left the house, her thoughts were consumed with where he was…and what he was doing! Someday she wanted to settle down, have a family…and they’d never be able to do that whilst he was still so…wild!

A knock on the window beside her, jolted Flick from her silent frustration. Martin smiled at her through the glass…a beam that lit the air around him and filled it with electric sparks. She found her own mouth twitching involuntarily as he waved a stuffed brown envelope at her, and his dark eyes grew luminous…

“C’mon! C’mon, get out!” he panted, pulling the door open. “Quick!” Flick stood up out of the low, sleek car and into Martin’s radiating cloud of exhilaration. Her eyes were fixed on the envelope.

“They’re gonna take her?!” She tried, and failed, to push down her own glee as her stomach flipped with anticipation. “How much?”

“Of course they’re gonna take her! Look at her, Flick! I’ve got great taste in other people’s cars!”

“Martin! How much?!” Felicity reached for the envelope, but he pulled it back, stuffing it into his pocket.

“£23,000!” He hissed, leaning to kiss her mouth, hurriedly. “Not bad for a day’s work, eh?” Flick caught the back of his neck, and pressed his lips to hers in a longer, heated assault. It left them both breathless, toes curling…not bad indeed! God, she loved him like this! It was contagious!

“Just wait ‘til I get you home,” she gasped, dragging her nails slowly between his shoulder blades. “…I’ve just remembered how much I love those…benefits!”

“Home?!” Martin grinned, teasing and sexy. “Oh honey…now you’ll just have to be patient! I work nine to five…I’m still at the office!” Felicity let him take her hand and started running…

“Quick!” he told her. “We’ve got a bus to catch…there’s a business conference in town…and apparently, the hotel has a hell of a car park!”

Felicity picked up her pace…just a couple more couldn’t hurt.

#Fridayflash - Falling

  

“Are you sure about this?”

“No.”

“Then I shouldn’t do it…I mean…you should just go back…”

“Is that what you really want?” Michael looked straight at me; almost held his breath. His deep-blue eyes were hurt and incredulous.

“No… God, no! You know it isn’t. I want you here…with me… But Michael, if you’re not sure..?” I sighed, heavily. “Look…the way I understand it, once we do this, there’s no going back…and I just don’t want you to hate me if you regret it later.”

“How could you think I’d do that?” Michael’s voice rose in irritation. “You think I could regret being with you?! Lucy…you’re everything…I could never hate you.”

“You might not think so,” I said, seeing truth in his eyes, yet needing to be sure. “But who knows how we’ll feel a year from now? Maybe your friends are right, maybe we’re being naïve about this and we should just accept that we’re different…”

“Lucy…I had no idea you felt that way… Do you really think they have a point?!” Michael sounded betrayed. I’d never said any of this before, but things were getting serious now…the point of no return. He had to be certain.

“No…of course I don’t…” I breathed, sad and conflicted. “Please, don’t be angry. I just don’t want you to give up anything you’ll miss…I couldn’t stand it if I made you unhappy. Michael…you have so much more to lose than I do…”

“You’re right.” He sighed and rubbed his fingers over his blond head in frustration. “I have a lot to lose… I’ll be leaving a job I was born to do, I’ll be leaving my men behind, and a war I believe in fighting…” he looked up at me, and smiled then, “…the Commander will be furious…and I’ll miss out on all sorts of officers’ privileges… But look at what I’m gaining, Lucy! I get you…and it’s better than all that. It’s better than anything! The war will go on without me…and so will the Unit …I think I’ve led it long enough.”

“And our differences?” I said, raising my eyebrow inquisitively. “What of those then?”

“Well, the way I understand it…after we do this, those will go away. I’ll be just like you.” He grinned, genuinely happy at the thought, and I returned his smile, curling my fingers around the back of his neck and leaning my forehead on his. I stared at Michael’s impossibly blue eyes and held their steady gaze.

“Michael…” I whispered. “Be sure…”

“I’ve never been surer,” he said, suddenly strong, as he pushed the knife into my hand.

Pulling him closer, I wrapped my arms around Michael’s shoulders and sliced the enormous, white wings from his naked back, with a practiced flick of my wrist.

Michael roared in agony as blood gushed from the fresh, ragged wounds…blood that was red…and mortal. His wings fell to the ground amidst a cloud of scattered, stained feathers, and I stepped back, dropping the knife with a violent clatter. I’d played by the rules…he’d had three chances to stop this…

Michael’s pained cries peaked as wails of desolate realisation when he saw the bony horns begin to erupt from my scalp and push through curly red hair that shortened before his eyes. I flexed my fingers as their nails lengthened to claws and a forked tail burst from my lower back, thrashing and whipping at the air.

“This doesn’t quite resolve our differences, angel…” I sneered. The voice that resonated from my morphing body, deepened with every word. “You’ll never be just like me…” I threw back my head and howled with hysterical laughter… Another divine warrior disabled...a leader, no less! This was getting far too easy!

I left Michael sobbing and bleeding on the pavement, as I descended through it, victorious. I didn’t know if the neutered angel cried for the Cause, his wings, or his broken heart…and neither did I care…

Good: 0 Evil: 1

#Fridayflash - Window Shopping

“I like that one,” Jennifer said shyly, almost ashamed of herself for acknowledging it. It definitely wasn’t the sort of thing she’d normally go for. She pointed discreetly, keeping her hand close to her body, so her friend Abigail would become aware of the target, but the rest of the world wouldn’t see. Jennifer flushed just thinking about the possibility of someone else seeing her interest in it. She would be so embarrassed if a stranger noticed her pointing…what would they think?! Would they assume she’d usually be drawn to something like that? Heaven forbid!

“That one?!” Abigail squinted at it, rather too obviously. “I don’t know, Jen…it’s not your usual sort of thing, is it? It’s got a bit of a dishevelled look about it. But then again, I suppose there’s nothing wrong with something different…a bit of variety is always healthy! It is a tad untidy looking…but I think that’s kind of…well…interesting!”

“You don’t like it, do you?” Jennifer said, eyeing her friend with mock sadness and just a smidge of genuine shame. “You think I’ve got weird taste!”

“Honey, I’ve known you a long time, I’ve seen your previous choices. I saw what you finally chose for the wedding last autumn! I know you’ve got weird taste!”

“Hey!” Jennifer nudged her friend playfully. “I happen to think I chose very well for the wedding! Alright then, which one do you like?” Abigail looked around the room, narrowing her eyes again as she scouted for, then settled upon, her prey. Naturally, it was the brightest, most feral-looking thing in sight. Neatly cut, but almost offensively present, it matched her somewhat predatory personality…it was a wild-looking thing indeed!

“That one!” She declared, much too loudly and eagerly for Jennifer’s liking, bouncing up and down a couple of times on her kitten heels with excitement. “That would look so good on me!” Jennifer grabbed Abigail’s hand and yanked her friend’s pointing finger back to her side.

“Abby!”

“What?! Oh, look Jen…I know this isn’t the sort of place we’d usually come to. But this is a special event! We’re celebrating still being who we are…despite recent…um… ‘changes of circumstance’. We can still have fun, you know?! It is allowed! Tonight we get to pick out anything we like! Any price bracket, any size, any colour combination! We’re not buying, remember? We’re just window shopping!” Abby flashed her wicked smile. “Maybe we’ll even hold a few items up against us! See how they look when we dance?” She spotted Jennifer’s worried look. “But we’re not going to try any on, I swear!”

Jennifer smiled, and felt herself succumbing to her friend’s enthusiasm. Abby was right, there was no harm in looking, even if you could no longer afford to buy. Locking eyes, the women smirked devilishly and wriggled their still-shiny wedding rings from their fingers, dropping them into tiny handbags. Abigail took a deep breath, straightened her short, black dress and grabbed Jennifer’s hand, tugging her across the bar.

“C’mon!” She encouraged, making a beeline for the group of guys containing ‘Wild Thing’. “Let’s go talk to that one!”

#Fridayflash - A Tale of the Future

I don't usually like rhyming poetry all that much, and I rarely write it, but since I'm travelling back from The Netherlands to the UK today and haven't found much time in the second week of my holiday for #fridayflash, I decided to dig this one out! I wrote this about ten years ago, whilst I was still at school, and sent it off to be considered for a publisher's anthology. I didn't expect to hear anything...but to my surprise, it was, in fact, selected! Since it tells a tale of the future, I thought it might be suitable for today's #fridayflash... enjoy!

Control Tower Broadcast: Houston; Plutonic Colony - 2340AD

"Houston, we have a problem,
Request permission to land."
"Negative, Number Thirty-two
The station is unmanned."
"Houston, this is Captain Black,
The ship was hit on the left
At the back."
"Thirty-two, this is Houston Tower,
There's a gap in the pattern in
About an hour."
"Negative, Houston! Our missiles are low
We are taking fire and can only fly slow!"
"This is Houston, Thirty-two,
There are other ships worse off than you.
For as long as you're able, hold them back
Landing permission denied, Captain Black!
Defend our planet; it's the only one left;
Our species has destroyed the rest!"
"Houston, we read you, loud and clear,
We just can't save them all -
Only those who've paid their way,
This planet is too small."
"That's the spirit, Thirty-two,
Only the best on Pluto will do,
If we are to survive this time
I'm afraid we have to draw the line."
"Affirmative, Houston,
Pluto is ours! We are using back-up power."
"Commendable bravery, Thirty-two,
See you in about an hour."

Entirely in dialogue...

Born of another exercise for the Leeds Writers' Group. The brief stated  I could use only dialogue to convey my intended message...

"The Heart"

“It fell from the sky,
with that terrible thump we heard last night,
and it’s been lying,
there,
in the gutter,
ever since.”

“Have you been near it?”

“Close, but not near…”

“Can you hear it?
I think it’s still breathing.”

“Still breathing,
and surely
still beating…
Should we do something for it?”

“Should we just ignore it,
and keep walking?”

“I can’t think that would be right.
It’s been there,
alone
and struggling,
since last night.”

“Perhaps we should help it?”

“Help it how? What can we do now?
The damage has already been done.”

“It’s breath is gone now,
anyhow. It stopped,
a second since,
it’s no longer
moving.”

“We were only losing it
for a moment. There wasn’t
much to be done.”

“Perhaps it will shrivel now,
in the sun.
Perhaps it’s dead.”

“Not dead, for sure, but cold,
a dormant example of a tale of old
a lonely victim of a pain well known.”

“And at what appalling cost, was this one lost?
Will there be more?”

“For sure. More will fall from the sky in the night.
But they are not lost forever.
Some day they will get up from the gutter,
beat harder,
and go on.”

Accidental Fiction...'Accidental Death'...

One of my 'rarely-actually-written' pieces of fiction, born of an exercise for the Leeds Writers' Group. The exercise specified a piece entirely in dialogue. So, there's no description of anything outside speech, (between you and me, that's probably why my goldfish-like poet's attention span held long enough to write it!) and the characters have no names as their conversation never calls for them... You should feel free to name them though, if they remind you of someone!


Accidental Death


“Oh my GOD, OH MY GOD! What did you do?!”


“What?! Would you please just calm down?! I can’t change it now, can I? Just shut up! Shut up! I need to think…”


“But…oh my God! I think I’m going to be sick!…oh, yep, I’m definitely going to be sick. How could you? How could you just…keep going like that?! ”


“Would you get a grip, please?! It’s not like I set out to do this! It was him or us, alright? By the time I saw him, it was already too late to brake! You weren’t wearing your seat belt…if I’d tried to stop, I’d have thrown you straight through the windscreen! Would that have been a better outcome?!”


“No! God, no! But, oh Jesus…look at him! I don’t think he’s breathing! There’s…oh God, there’s blood…I think he’s dead.”


“Well of course he’s dead! His neck is broken. I’ve never seen a head at that angle on anything living! But I’m not sure what you expect me to do about it now! It’s happened, hasn’t it?! We just have to calm down and deal with it.”


“We?! You were driving! Don’t drag me into this. I’m not taking the blame for it!”


“You weren’t wearing a seatbelt! You’re the reason I hit him! I’m not dragging you into anything…you’re already in! You owe me for this! I put myself on the line for you here…in that moment, when I could’ve braked? It was him or you!”


“Oh God!”


“Will you stop saying that?!”


“I can’t help it. I think I’m in shock! What do we do now? What do you do when this happens?! Should we call an ambulance?”


“Are you crazy?! An ambulance?! What good is an ambulance? Look at him! What would they do for him? No. We’re not calling anyone.”


“What? Surely we should at least call the police? To report it? We need to explain what happened. Someone will have to move the body. We can’t just leave him here! You can’t just drive away! He might have a family…and they’ll miss him sooner or later. Come rush hour, someone will see him. I’m definitely calling the… Oi! Give me the phone!”


“You’re not calling anyone. We can’t report this. You know how my driving record looks! I’ve got points already!”


“Points?! Screw your points! This is a life we’re talking about!”


“Exactly. I don’t know what they charge you with or not when something like this happens! We can’t report it. What about my life? What about our lives? I need my license for work! No work means no house, no car, no more of those weekend mini-breaks you like so much, no more fancy shoes...!”


“My God, you think I care about that right now?! That I’d be shallow enough to consider how this affects me, how it affects us, above doing the right thing?! Anyway, they’re not going to take your license. This was an accident. A pure accident! It’s dark…there aren’t any street lamps, and he wasn’t wearing anything that showed up in the headlights. I didn’t see him either. Not until…well, you know…and it’s 1.30am…what was he even doing out here on his own? People will understand. The police will understand. Please, just give me the phone…we have to tell someone! What about his family? …There could be kids expecting him home!”


“Oh great! A ‘kid’ guilt trip! Nice one! Just what I needed…because I don’t feel bad enough already! You’re really helping, aren’t you?! If you can’t make yourself useful, just go and wait in the car!”


“Useful?! I was trying to… Stop it! What are you doing?”


“Well, one of us has to be rational about this.”


“No! Don’t touch him! You can’t move anything until the police have seen it!”


“I’ve told you. There aren’t going to be any police. I’ll deal with this myself. Now either get hold of his legs at your end and help me move him, or get out of the way so I can drag him off the road.”


“Drag him off the road? Do you hear yourself right now? You’re like some sort of amateur gangster! What do you think you’re going to do?”


“There’s still a spade in the boot from last weekend. I’m going to bury him in the woods back there.”


“Oh my God…you’re serious, aren’t you?! Who the hell are you? Because you’re certainly not the same man I got in the car with this morning! How can you be so cold about this? Give me the phone! I mean it. Give me that phone right now! He has a family somewhere who will look for him tomorrow, who will miss him! And it’s not a guilt trip…there really could be kids who’ll…”


“We don’t know that! You can’t know that! There could be no one who’ll ever miss him! You have no idea if he has…if he had…a family. What if he has no one to care? What if he just lives out here in these woods?”


“Don’t be stupid! Does he look like he lives in the woods?!”


“I don’t know…I didn’t see him before we hit him, and I sure as Hell can’t tell now! Just imagine it turns out that no one would ever have missed him? But you had to go and report it, so I ended up with no license, and no work, and we couldn’t pay the mortgage and…”


“And you think you’re the one being rational here?! Look at him! Just look. You killed him and you don’t even care who he is! He has a name, and people who’ll miss him, and you’re talking about dragging him off into the woods, burying him in a shallow grave, and driving away…for the sake of your license?! It was an accident! A pure accident! Everything will be okay. You’re being ridiculous!”


“Me? I’m being ridiculous? I’m not the one getting hysterical about his home life! You don’t even know if he has a family…I keep telling you, it’s impossible to know that! And if I lose my license, all those things I said before…the house, the car, the money…all that is a reality…”


“Oh, for God’s sake, would you just wake up?! Of course he has a family! Can’t you see he has an ID tag on his collar? And seriously, when was the last time someone got charged with an offence after hitting a dog? Put the shovel down, Jason Statham, and give me the damn phone!”