December 2015 – the end – Worm by Simon Evans


by Simon Evans

This sorry tale all started when I went to Specsavers for a routine eye check. They found some sort of ‘shadow’ or ‘blemish’ or ‘scarring’ behind my left eye. The follow up appointment at the Eye Hospital involved no small amount of head scratching and reassuring vagueness. Ultimately I was told not to worry but that they had to keep an ‘eye’ on it (ha ha). The following year I was told that the shadow had grown and that there was ‘cause for concern’. During the months following this check-up I began to experience dizziness and occasional blurring of vision. A blind patch was appearing. My dreams were becoming more confused and vivid. I was worried. Continue reading


October 2015 – new beginning – Ken Lee by Simon Evans

Ken Lee

by Simon Evans

Ken Lee sat in his favourite armchair; it was Christmas Day so he wore a purple paper crown on his old, grey head. At his feet sat his three daughters – Glenda, Rita and his youngest, prettiest daughter, Carol.

“Right you lot, I’m off to bed soon as I’m quite pissed. Whoever gives the best speech about how great I am and how much you love me will be given the last present – the doll’s house made of whale bone.” Continue reading

August 2015 – climate change – Bob by Simon Evans


by Simon Evans

When I walked out of prison there was no one there to meet me. Mind you, I didn’t expect there to be. Not after what I did.

There was something rather refreshing though, something rejuvenating, about having a clean slate. Plus, I had no desire to see my own harrowing guilt looking back at me from the eyes of my so called nearest and dearest.

I had been planning my release day for some time. I intended to catch a random selection of buses to start my new life somewhere truly new to me. I caught a 41 bus from outside the prison and travelled one stop. There I caught a number 18 and travelled two stops. Then a number 24 took me three stops. I continued this process until I travelled seven stops on the number 8. I arrived, in light drizzle, in a dull town I had never been to or heard of. I was happy. Continue reading

June 2015 – funeral pyre – Cockney Cops in Space by Simon Evans

Cockney Cops in Space

by Simon Evans

“Just because it’s the future, it don’t mean I can’t deal with fings my way, the old, tried and tested facking way,” screamed Jack Deeney, Cockney cop.

“You’re a dinosaur, Deeney. Shape up or shit off,” replied Brian McGiving, the sharp suited, younger but senior cop.

“You’re doing my facking swede in, McGiving. What you want me to do? Corner the Alien bastard and make ‘im a cup o’ tea? Give ‘im a bunch of bleedin’ roses?”

“Shape up, Deeney. You’ve got twenty four space hours to shape up, or you’ll be back on terra firma shovelling paperwork before you can say interplanetary transfer.”

“Fack orf”. Continue reading

May 2015 – hedge bottom – Cold Calling by Simon Evans

Cold Calling

by Simon Evans

Nurinder Prassad tapped her desk gently with her pen as she listened to yet another ringing tone. When the answering machine message started she terminated the call and clicked on the next customer record on her screen. She glanced out of the window at the early evening traffic, the bleary lights and the endless drizzle.

“Hello,” snapped an impatient male voice.

Nurinder turned her attention quickly to her screen.

“Good evening, could I please speak with Mr Jeremy Brunt?”

“Jeremy Brunt speaking, who is this?”

“Hello Sir, my name is Nurinder Prassad and…”

“You’re who?! What the hell is this?” Continue reading

March 2015 – beautiful feeling – Shot Lyffe by Simon Evans

Shot Lyffe

by Simon Evans

“All aboard the Hyundai!” exclaimed Jeremiah Ansah as he beckoned his sixteen year old son and his two friends into the family car. He wanted to be fun, to be funny, to be liked but his jollity was met with eye rolling and sullen mumbling from the three boys.

Jeremiah knew that their destination was the Export Arena in town and – as they set off – he attempted to discover more about the concert the boys were due to attend.

“So, who’s this Shot Lyffe then boys?”

All three boys sniggered. Continue reading