Tales From The Town #52: Don’t Tell Me That I Am Free

The moon sets beyond the sea. The sun rises above the hills. Yet here were are, trapped forever beneath the unbreachable ceiling of the sky.

Selene has tried so many times not to look, but there she is again, watching and weeping at the turning of the moon.

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Notes:

1. Written on the 8th and 9th of June, 2021
2. The title is taken from Blown-out Joy From Heaven’s Mercied Hole by A Silver Mt. Zion.
3. This story marks the end of “Winter”
4. Which ran from Tale #28 to Tale #52
5. While “Summer” ran from Tale #1 to Tale #27
6. They have long seasons in the town
7. And very little in between

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Tales From The Town #51: Puddles

Sudden sun for a whole weekend marks the unexpected end of this long unceasing winter, and by Monday morning, all that remains of this entire season’s crop of snow are puddles dotted here and there on the street and in the road. And when the children walk to school, one by one, beneath the gleeful stamping of their boots, they too will soon be gone.

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Notes:

1. Written between June 9th and June 15th, 2021

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Tales From The Town #50: Stop Motion

On his desktop a spaceship. In the spaceship a man. And against a backdrop of stars, formed from dust on an old black t-shirt pinned to his wall, this spaceship moves slowly through space, one photograph at a time, taken painstakingly over hours, days, weeks of his life, waiting there on his camera to be assembled into motion.

Animation was as slow as David’s life. Played back, weeks reduced to seconds, it gave the impression of motion. But in fact there was no movement at all.

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Notes:

1. Written in May 2020
2. Almost a year before I actually started stop motioning
3. Unstoppably

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Tales From The Town #49: Shoelaces

“Shoelaces are so stupid,” Claire said.

“What’s wrong with shoelaces?” Ethel asked. “They’re better than velcro.”

“Hey,” Tina said, as she velcro’d her shoes shut. “What’s wrong with velcro?”

“Velcro comes from space,” Daniel said. “It’s made by aliens!”

“No it’s not,” Claire said. “Anyway, velcro’s just as stupid as shoelaces. You don’t get socklaces, do you? You don’t have to velcro your leggings up? They’re rubbish! Why don’t they just make boots that fit your feet?”

There was not a single person alive who could have adequately answered her question. Nor was there anyone who dared try.

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Notes:

1. Written on June 24th, 2021

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Tales From The Town #48: The Door In The Wall, or The Worth Of Dreams

The first time Yulia saw the door was on her walk to work one morning, in the middle of the old Roman wall that ran through the centre of the town. It had never been there before. But there it was, locked and closed and as solid and real as the wall itself. She couldn’t stop thinking about it all day, this out of place door in the middle of that wall. When she came home that evening, it was gone.

The second time she saw it, it was down near the abandoned pub, in the wall circling the beer garden. A different wall, but the same door. It was unmistakeable. She was on the bus this time, and caught only a glimpse of it, but she was sure it was open now, not fully, but slightly ajar at least, a shaft of light shining though the gap and illuminating the pavement with an ethereal glow.

Then the bus rattled on towards its destination, and all Yulia was left with was the memory of it on her retinas, a patch of shimmering blue superimposed over the dismal and the dull of the town in winter.

The third time the door was on the other side of the street, opposite the shop, in the ruins of the old gallery, directly in her line of sight for the whole of the day. It was wide open, and Yulia could see through to what lay beyond. And what she was a world of wonders, a shifting infinity of possibilities, each one more enticing than the last, more beautiful than any heaven.

Only the queue of her customers, which stretched twice round the shop and back down the street, kept her from getting up from her chair and crossing the street and stepping through that door and never coming back.

Yulia knew it was all a dream, but that hardly mattered. She’d seen it now. Seen through and beyond to something else, something other than this. All she had to do was was wait. Wait for the door to return, for her to take her chance. There were other worlds than these.

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Notes:

1. Written between June 7th and June 14th, 2021
2. The title is taken from an HG Wells short story
3. And the last line is taken from The Gunslinger by Stephen King
4. But the bits in between are my own

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