Sunday, 15 January 2017

The Battle of the Call Centre

Alex loathed the rain, a little more than she loathed another day in reality. It was the weather to shoot a horror movie, humid rain, lightening, bruise-colored skies and rain from a more primitive time.

Alex stretched, rubbed her eyes, had a shower and then straightened her unruly, short hair and then smoothed on her makeup.The ritual soothed her, she painted on pretty cheeks, painted on dainty sculpted eyes in a pretty, silvery pink.  In the chaos, makeup and hair always got ruined but a little feminine normality was therapy but normally never lasted, nothing lasted.

Before the disaster, an umbrella would have been a gadget to stop her face getting wrecked and her hair turning to short snakes but now an umbrella was a weapon. Alex opened the door and braced herself for another morning of killing creatures that were once souls.  A big ex-man roared in her face and with a controlled rage she smacked him across the face, and then again, and then again until he fell, and then while he was laid out on the ground she stabbed him through the torso.Alex had become twisted since the disaster, she was vegetarian just because eating dead animals seemed illogical and revolting and now she was killing random people and different, bloodthirsty ways.

Alex looked at her watch, she was early as ever as the journey to work became as unpredictable as a bad trip.She waited at the bus stop wondering if the fat, gross bus driver was now a zombie, Alex wondered how many faces that made up the wallpaper of her life were now crazed creatures. Alex had found an ancient part of her brain that was hyper focused on survival, noises were louder, colors brighter and time had become distorted. The lightening made the scene slightly more terrifying and her senses Alex's senses were slightly more alert. She saw a tiny, lit up figure from a long way, she scanned him for signs of being on her a zombie with a checklist, the walk looked good, she had a good, upright gait, there was no roaring and shouting and as she got closer she looked fine.


Said the woman. Alex looked the woman up and down.


Said Alex quietly.

"God, you look good".


Alex replied.

Alex just wanted to survive alone, since her daily killing sprees her emotions had closed down. Getting to know people may mean a broken soul when normal people turned vicious.

"Mad isn't it".

The soft-skinned woman looked deeply scared, Alex tried to keep her emotion to a minimum.


Shouted Alex,


The women tried not to look in the woman's eyes and started to pummel her. Blood and organs splatter on the road. The women did a grim high five as they looked at the ex-woman.

"Poor thing"

Said the woman.


Said Alex,

"get any ideas that you did anything wrong out of your head, she didn't have a life, she was just a monster, she's an ex-person."

The bus came and the women were relieved it was being driven by a gross bus driver and the rain-sodden faces were averagely depressed and ugly. Alex and the pretty young woman got on the bus quickly and the doors slammed behind them and they both could breathe.

The lightning got worse as Alex had to get off the bus and make the now horrendous journey to the office. She brandished her umbrella and stayed alerted on the short journey to the tacky red brick building that housed hundreds of workers. The trip was uneventful other than the horror movie rain.
Alex ran into the building and shouted,


She looked over to the security guard who to her horror now had a dripping face. This kill was essential but would be difficult. Bob was a small constant in her life, a gossip buddy, a person to talk through her problems with illogical people and a good laugh. She tried to run past Bob so she wouldn't need to slaughter him but he ran towards her so in an emotional quandary she killed Bob with her umbrella.

Alex felt tears in her eyes but then remembered her own advice, Bob wasn't human anymore.Nobody had a cure for these zombies, they could be your mum, dad, best friend or lover once they turned it was your duty to kill them. Alex buried all emotions and then with a huge flash of lightening the lights went out.

It took a few minutes for the green emergency lights to come on, once they sparked to light Alex ran up the stairs. The office had started to empty out since the disaster and Alex wasn't sure why she kept making the potentially lethal trip to work but it was a ritual like makeup and hair, work was normality. The lights were still an eerie, emergency green but the phones and computers were powered by a generator so the day went on.

After the short ritual of logging into her phone and getting through passwords, the beep came.

"I'm furious, the driver came with my interview clothes and he only had half a face, why do you employ those useless zombies?"

Alex sometimes felt she had nothing to say to these calls. She went to her updates page on the screen to see what the latest script was and purred

"I'm so sorry for any inconvenience, it must have been very distressing".

"Do you think I give a shit about those stupid zombies? I've got an interview, my office is full of those idiots."

"I just need to pull up your details"

Alex wanted to shout or laugh at the caller but Alex kept her relaxed but authoritative tone

"Can I have your postcode, please?"

"Yes, it's SE14 4LQ"

The caller's voice dripped with sarcasm and spite, Alex carried on with the call calmly.

"Thanks, now I can help you."

"Fucking useless zombies are everywhere you know, they're like a disease, I love killing them, doing the government's job for them."

The caller got irate as Alex asked her details.

Alex looked up and her boss was staring at her with yellow eyes and a bloodied face and a very crazed look. Her friend beat Jenny with and umbrella while Alex called the delivery company.

"Kayleigh, thanks so much, I know how much you hate killing".

Kayleigh went to hug Alex, Alex hesitated then realized she needed the human contact, so with her mind on full alert she took some much needed human contact.

Alex's work-mates looked at Alex and Kayleigh with shocked faces.

"We had to" Said Kayleigh

Just then, they green lights, the glow of the computers and the office went dark, the generator was only designed to power the building for a few minutes. Thunder rumbled outside and lightening illuminated panicked faces for a few seconds and room that was full of voices and activity was full of petrified people.

"There's no security guard"

Shouted Alex. The next flash of lightning showed true horror on peoples' faces.

"I'll guard the door, Kayleigh, come with me."

Kayleigh and Alex walked to the door and brandished their brollys.

"Someone, text the power guy while I guard".

Shouted Alex.

Kayleigh handed over her phone. The "power guy" was a retired engineer who could get the power back on, his real identity was a mystery but Kayleigh had this man's phone number. The account manager shouted over to Alex,

"Alex I'm in charge".

A boo went up, Alex felt nervous, she had gone above her position.

"Alex and Kayleigh know what they're doing"

A flash of lightning lit up Lauren's face and the manager had nothing to say.

Alex shouted,

Get your weapon line up, they're coming".

Brolly's and baseball bats and racquets came out and the zombies lolloped up the stairs,

"Get ready"

Shouted Alex and Kayleigh together.

Alex picked of zombies and killed them in various ways, the ones who got past were killed by Kayleigh and Lauren and a few were killed by the manager.

Thursday, 1 December 2016


The world is covered with vicious glitter,

Every clashing colour incased in white,

The frigid air stops the sound

the last bright Autumn leaves

are leaving the trees

never has a death of nature

looked so lovely.

Friday, 26 August 2016


I'll break your heart
with a velvet hammer,
and crush your soul
in rose petals
because this can't work
but I still love you.

I love the way you smile
and the way you made me feel
like a best mate with passion
so safe yet dangerous.

I loved your stories,
like a young granddad
laughed at my jokes.

But I know you're telling soft lies,
killing us so gently
you think I wont notice
but I see all
and it's too blurred.

Too blurred to carry on,
and I think you agree
so I'll remember sun drenched days
and forget the worst,
the lies covered in roses.

Tuesday, 26 July 2016

The Animals

Big claws,

Alert, yet soulless eyes,

The animals have come to eat.

They come to invade,

to eat positivity

to choke any light

to feed off love.

And love becomes empty

replaced by fear

emotions detach themselves

and take up residence in the dirt.

And they run  with any diamonds

that were ever in your bones

and laugh at any light

only leaving you a blank expression

and an emptiness that scares the world.

They fear you are an animal too,

With tiny eyes that  only see shades of black

and claws to kill anyone close.

So the people stay away.

And the animals

need to be starved,

and tamed

and love will be their only poison.

Tuesday, 24 May 2016

Cake, Zombies and domestic violence.

The frying pan hit the rotting face at the perfect angle, the skull shattered and he was no longer an undead monstrosity but at peace with the world and just dead.

"Well done my man"

Josh's mum never had much reason to be proud but since the  "Armageddon" he seemed lots happier. The only achievement that Josh managed was beating grown men at bloodthirsty war games online. Nobody realised one day he could transfer his skills to save lives and kill zombies.

Chantel was the second line of defence as her "ADHD" meant she had been up all night watching blooded figures to see if there was any pattern so this nuclear meltdown of a family could defend themselves better and Chantel could use her legendry aggression to fight off monsters with cricket bats, she too was happy.

A carrier bag skidded down the corridor.

"Nice one, Billy"

Mum shouted down the corridor.

Billy had never walked out of a shop and paid for anything in his life so the end of the world just meant he had to fight zombies and other looters, life was more colourful now, mostly shades of red from the blood he seemed to be permanently covered in from killing zombies for cake; but his family needed to be nourished and feed their sugar addictions and fights for cake could get practically bloody and not all the bloodstains were from fighting the zombies, civilised people needed their junk.

"I wonder if the social worker's still alive"

"I wonder" answered Chantel.

There was a scream from the front garden, mum and Chantel ran and found a dead zombie along with a pale but alive social worker.

"Show us your eyes"

Mum glared menacingly at the very patient social worker to see the yellow whites and misshapen pupils, the sign of the zombie. Them mum thought it through, would a zombie social worker keep her appointments? It seemed unlikely.

"Fancy a cherry slice"

"You have cake?"

Dribbled the social worker

"Yep" smiled mum, "we have cake"

Mum and Chantel cut a precious slice in half and shared it. The had learnt to appreciate sugar since Armageddon so they had lost a large part of their excess bodies, hitting zombies meant her arms  like something off an infomercial for some exercise gadget. They were sharp enough to know Mr Kippling's workforce were probably wandering round with their flesh falling off so cake would have to last until the government got around to killing them more efficiently then the non zombies with nothing but sports equipment and frying pans.

"How's it going"

Asked the social worker.

"To be honest with you we're all very happy"

"Aren't the kids meant to be in school".

The social worker felt ridiculous as she said it, for a while school had been opened. At first, frightened of fines parents battled through the undead, from the posh set ramming though a graveyard rave in their four by fours to the council estate mums using their hard but unemployed son's as protection, but first the lads got infected and them the nanny's and then the posh mums so school had become pointless, only a few of the hardest were supposed to survive and this family and social worker were some of the chosen few.


Came an ear piercing scream. Chantel and Mum ran to help, there was a large man with stained clothes, he had the yellow eyes and  glazed expression, mum put her large frame behind a huge whack that spread his brains across the floor.

"That's your dad, oh my god kids, I'm so sorry"

"He was a zombie anyway" Chantel said, "well done".

Josh didn't see the misshapen pupils and this man took several large blows that a rotting zombie would have died of, when Chantel said "he was a zombie anyway" she was right, booze and drugs turn him from a protector to aggressor. Dad meant this family was used to defending themselves from zombies, and now they most harmful one was dead.

"Well" said the social worker, desperate times call for desperate measures, you have food, the main problem is dead, so give us a packet of biscuits and I'm off".

Josh was the gentleman and chased off some zombies, the social worker could ration out her biscuits to feed her sugar addiction while thanks to Armageddon this nuclear fall out family found their peace.

Thursday, 12 May 2016

Soul Poison

Sometimes I've been only straight person in the room, the beat pumping, sweat pouring and the beautiful people all around. The gorgeous people on those magic, pills take on new faces, like masks made of flesh their features distort and you realise they're someone else tonight, a black eyed, twisted remix who left their soul in the toilet they downed their pill in or snorted a line off a toilet seat. On the outside they are zombies on the inside they feel amazing but I find it utterly disturbing.

There was a death of a friend that seemed like suicide, he looked like wreak for weeks before  he died, he talked of a future while resembling the undead so when the phone call came that he died of an overdose I shouldn't have been shocked. I  cried for a  night and barely ate before the funeral and then when it came I watched people who had a missing part and a story that ended too soon, there would always be a split in out souls.

 Thanks to drugs I've been to friend's funerals not weddings, a parent watching their child's coffin go past never gets less harrowing, children left too young by a parent's sickness and selfishness is an awful thing to see, the images of young, confused faces talking about how they loved daddy will always scar my conscious.

The likelihood of dropping dead form drugs is surprisingly small, mix pills with our favourite drug booze and the risk of ending the life you wanted to enhance gets higher.

And then there are the half lives, wandering around town, you remember the star they were before , you remember when they had a soul not poison, you remember when they had hope not destitution and then you see they now wear a mask like a lost child with frightened eyes, all sense of self gone, they become a bag of pills, powder and smoke while only a tiny part of strength and self remains. You  wonder if they can come back but many are in their mid 40s and as I talk to their skinny faces about their chaotic lives I know I have to accept then for what they have become.

It always started so well, drugs seemed like the perfect way to bond with friends and like  the human reasons for finding new countries or exploring space we did them because they were there and their illegal status just made for butterflies when we took a trip to the toilet with our best friends and life became a movie not a chore. We took designer drugs, we lived in our designer tee shirts ad took pride in our fabulous narcissism.

 For some of us out teen depression and isolation needed a cure, our emptiness was just too horrible and burdens we could never talk about. Dancing in a freezing filed was like freeing our demons so we could have a childhood way better that the first one and the comedown was so hard they needed something harder to get through the week.

Many of us came out fine, we did a big comedown and accepted life couldn't be a movie but some kept popping pills, inhaling poison or even injecting soul rot into their veins.  When you get offered  pill, I'm not telling you to say no, I'm warning you, do you want to become a twisted remix of yourself? Do you want to watch a few friends die young? Is there another way to find what ever you really want from that poison and maybe don't bother.

Tuesday, 10 May 2016


Little bits of me
over Twitter
you can read my life
if you just put
microcosms of my tale
a jigsaw with tiny parts.

And I give a little soul here,
a few bits of  my heart
and liver just left
for the scavengers to eat.

They gossip and pick over
a little soul here and
a little heart over there
and soon there will be nothing left.

Life rips me apart,
caffeine keeps me awake
and so the jigsaw may never
fit back.
a soul a mind
but I still give more.