Short Stories

 Chief Executive.
“Peter, get my navy pinstripe gown, pink trim ready, I've gotta be at my desk by 8.30, first appointment at 8.45. Prime those love birds Mark and John to have the Angelfly ready on the dot, no messing: I can't be a nanosecond late. Cancel John's breakfast and spare me the tears.” Shaving His cheeks with one wing, fastening his gown with the other He felt bloated and a need for some time in the Sadogym: even the Omnipotent needed to feel fit.

Growing up in Geordie land.
Homes, like landscapes, have feelings and moods, they are affected by particular internal or external catalysts, sometimes changing gently and calmly but at other times violently and catastrophically: responding to weather fronts, global warming, extreme conditions, history, economics, or, people's needs, desires, health and wealth. Individuals, families and communities become psychological and physical barometers registering emotional and physical change. Mam was just such a barometer in her home. Being the youngest and female she was constantly involved in the shop and in homecare as a child and, after her brother's left home, was alone with what she saw as older parents: one angry and drunk and the other worn down, quiet and duty driven.

Repression.
Dropping her shopping in the kitchen Philippa takes the chilled Chardonnay from the fridge. Sipping slowly, teasing her taste buds en route to the bathroom, she sheds her clothes in stages along the passage, leaving them as stepping-stones for her return. Perhaps it's just Friday night blues. Standing her glass gently on the window-sill she reaches for the shower switch.

Moving up the Antrim Road.
“Oh Conner, I do love this drive out of Belfast alongside the sea up to Bushmills and I get so excited about seeing our cottage. The fields are so green, a green we never see in Belfast.”

“Here we are then MT, have you got the key?”

“Ay, to be sure, here it is, let's get into our new home. To be sure there's and awful smell in this house. Can you smell it Conner?”

Riding The Alcoholic Roller Coaster.
I watch my colleagues dare each other to ride the biggest roller coaster in the world in Copenhagen Pleasure Park during the few free hours we have from conference time. All the men decide to ride even though it is very obvious that at least two are terrified. We three women are very clear. Riding is not for us. We know we are cowards: the waltzer is risk enough for me. So on this occasion I don't ride and feel vindicated when two of our male colleagues are literally green when they re-join us.