Friday, 17 August 2018


The piles of rubbish, rubble and anything we could find, stretched for miles. We’d scavenged for the last few months, the few remaining people and I, trying, finding, that last ditch effort offered before all hope would be lost.

The world we knew, now so far, far away, constantly reminding each of us of the ways we used to live. We laughed, smiled, cried until the night reminded us of the sleep we needed. Missing the days, embracing the nights, trying to last one, more, solitary day. Each day. Until that last day.

Pushing another bundle of rubbish into the gigantic collection in front of me I pause, for a few seconds, reaching out. A small teddy, nothing special, right in front of me. I sat down onto the sand, the sand that now stretched for many, many miles. Reaching, I picked up the teddy. A small bit battered, probably living a life of lost and forgotten cuddles. Maybe it had managed to float along a long-forgotten river, before reaching here, before the day decided to change everything forever.

Smiling, feeling, I casually throw the teddy onto the pile and relax onto the sand. Embracing the stars now covering the sky above, breathing managing to relax for a few seconds as one of my collection colleagues walks past, reminding me, placing the inevitable thoughts into my mind, that we were close to lighting the last fire.

The lands had dried, the seas had burnt to a crisp, with the remaining plant life crying for freedom. This was it, that moment where the spark finally dies, finally encompassing the realisation that this truly was the end.

The shouts echoed through the night air, as I stood, walking backwards away from the pile. We’d collected so much, with so little time, in the last-ditch effort to try and find rescue. We were few, oxygen dwindling, with no room to manoeuvre or escape. There were others, safe, behind the walls of technology but their time was also limited to the failings of man made machines. Soon, very soon, the same fate may defeat each and every single one of them.

The fire flew along the piles of rubbish, lighting the very sky with our message, the plea for some higher power to help. We’d failed this world, we’d failed ourselves, with the momentary gamble of thinking that the next generation would make things better. Would make things right. That never arrived, leaving the next collection of human like drones to realise that the system no longer worked. It was too late.

The fire raged, ravaging the remaining oxygen in the air around us. One by one, we fell, we gave our last remaining breath to try and find absolution. The world, the earth, finally no longer willing to nurture the life that we needed.  The fire, the rubbish and debris that we’d collected, spelt the simple letters to any being out there in the darkness... SOS.

Monday, 13 August 2018


Although I'm still reasonably young, within this great world of ours, I still recall so much from the years that have now gone. My Mother, bless her soul, used to tell us stories and even to this day and until the day I leave this world, I’ll always remember them. My Father, bless his soul as well, used to get embarrassed despite all of us knowing the type of man that he was.

A great man, a wise man, who’d lived through so much and left us with even more. The stories revolved around a man that insisted in being strong, no matter the circumstance, the difficulties, no matter how many cracks appeared on his face, within his smile, or deep within his eyes. He was, will always be, our rock.

Mother used to say that, once he’d proposed with the largest diamond, his gift that resembled a giant rock, he devoted his life and love to being just that. Strong, dependable, resilient and more. Even through the late nights when we were born. Even when my Sister arrived he didn't waver; no towel being thrown into the ring. He considered these the fun times before the real world and worries started.  

No matter where we went, on a holiday, to the park, or even just sitting there watching whatever rubbish appeared on the television, he’d always be holding Mum’s hand. He was this tall hero, the man that I’d always grown and hoped to become. We did well, from his example, my colleagues in mischief. As kids we didn't have everything and, in all honesty, we didn't really care. He gave us what we now, above all, appreciated. His time. His understanding. His way of teaching us strength as well as a thick ear if we stepped out of line.

We all grew older, the five of us, supporting and realising that family, albeit annoying, was what kept things safe. You always knew, somehow, somewhere, there was someone that would actually drop everything to be with you. Take care of you. Hold that hand that needed to be held just like Dad did. Sure, we all knew it, that despite being the strong one Father knew that our Mother, his wife, was just as strong. We often wondered what would happen if, heaven forbid, Mother left all of us. Which she did.

He stood tall, like always, on the days after Mother left. He was wise enough not to show the tears, despite the pain being obvious. He was our Father, the man that seemingly knew how to handle everything the best way that he could. We heard his tears, from behind closed doors, but that was okay. That was what held us together. We knew. We always knew.

The days moved forward and we started to have our own small bundles of fun. We learnt. We evolved into the very people that we’d hoped we would become which, thankfully, made Father so proud. “If Mum were here,” he’d say, “She’d be so proud!”  He was right. She would, as we kept together. We stayed sensible, fought against any troubles that came our way, realising that we still had the one person within our lives that would never, ever, let anything happen to us. Even as adults we still needed his words. We still waited for that wise man to appear. Even if it were to call us stupid but to only then offer the obvious solution that we’d missed.

Then, that day arrived. We’d all known that it would happen and, even though despite the hurt and loss, he made us smile by doing something that none of us could see coming.  It’s been close to one year, 3 months, ten hours, twelve seconds and a few thoughts since that day he left. To us, we knew a man, and a woman, that knew how difficult the world could be. They’d decided, even before we arrived, to stay strong, together. They managed that and, on that final day when we said goodbye, Father had arranged to put his ashes within a stone. A specially cut stone, re-joined, then placed onto my Mother’s grave. You see, to him, he wanted to always keep an eye on all of us, our rock, the man that couldn't be moved, wouldn't be moved. Even now we can still see him smiling thinking of his last gesture in this world.

He wasn’t just a man, he wasn’t just our beloved Father, he was and always will be… our rock.

Wednesday, 8 August 2018


“Listen to me Boy, listen real good. You know what you have to do and you’d better do it otherwise the lady across there might just rip your head off,” Said the pack leader. Joshua nodded his head, knowing exactly what was about to happen. He’d known that Ashley would pick him, even when they were growing up, the smiles, the laughter, which lead to becoming teenagers and now, as they approached their twenty first Birthdays it was time to create a new pack. A current generation pack.

His Father stood, placing a hand onto his Son’s shoulder. Joshua smiled, knowing that he couldn't hide anything from his Father. He looked over his shoulder as his Father left the Diner. They’d owned this place for as long as he could remember, the main meeting place for most of the town. Although they weren't exactly normal, compared to most people, they’d all accepted their differences years previous, before he was born, when man feared the beast. He slipped off of the high stool catching the attention of the remaining diners. They, in turn, nodded, knowing what would come next. In turn they all left other than three men, that he kind of knew, from the old pack.

Ashley appeared from behind the counter and, straight away, Joshua could feel the hairs on the back of his head raise. All he had to do was stay away from her, just long enough, to keep the other three men away. This was a rite of passage, a changing of order, the chance to become the new Alpha male of their pack. Sure, of course, he knew that Ashley would be the Alpha Female, stronger than him, faster than him, able to literally remove his head from his shoulders, but he didn't care as he sniffed the air. The pheromones hit him and he could feel his body tighten, his nerve instantly being tested, as the three men stood.

This was it. Ashley behind him, sitting on the table by the wall and, in front, three guys that simply wanted to break him into little bits. He knew that he’d heal but that was beside the point, when he still felt pain. Head spinning, blood pumping, chest rising as his breath became quite heavy and his canines extended. He could only transform, to this point, otherwise he really wouldn't be able to control his senses as well as the increasing desire.

Ashley sat, calm, knowing exactly what she was doing. She’d teased him, wanted him, even managed to spend time with him away from the others. This was the moment she’d waited for, yearned for, but there was always a chance that Joshua would fail. She smiled, leaning back, hands on either side of the table. Exposing her neck, flicking her hair to the side. She felt her body respond to his presence as her thoughts wandered. Closing her eyes, for a second or two, she imagined the both of them finally being able to mate. To feel him all over her, his warmth holding her, taking her. Her imagination spinning, her thoughts escaping into the room, she knew that there was nothing that could stop what was about to happen. It was far, far too late for both of them, especially seeing as this was what they needed.

Joshua, who could swear that he could hear her thoughts, placed a hand onto the side of a table as his primal instincts threatened to take over. He had to control this, let his mind obey the instructions. As he faltered he barely noticed the fist as it smashed into his jaw. He opened his eyes, as the darkness appeared. Shaking his head, he looked up to see the guy smirking as the other two laughed. The rage took hold of him as he snapped off a chunk of table, thrusting it into the guys mouth. Joshua grabbed the man's arm, twisting and as he arched forward, he thrust his knee into the guy’s chest. He heard ribs crack but he didn't care as there were still two to go. The others were upon him within the blink of an eye as the first man fell.

His leg flew backwards due to a well placed kick and a fist struck his stomach. Winded, down on one knee they both landed a few punches to his face. Still, despite the pain, all he could think about was Ashley. He could literally taste her lips on his. He could feel her smooth legs with his fingertips and needed to just have her. He’d never, in all his life, experienced a need such as this moment. He could be near death and he wouldn't care. This was the trial, the bonding. No matter what he was experiencing, the situation, he would do anything to protect her above all other desires or needs.

Another punch landed but, as his head flopped backwards, he caught sight of the incoming knee from the corner of his view. Moving his body to the side, slightly, he caught the leg and wrenched it towards him. The man fell and, as he moved the leg onto the top of his shoulder, he clasped the guys knee and pressed down as hard as he could. He had seconds before the last guy would be upon him but, thankfully, he didn't need that long as the knee broke with a gut-wrenching noise. The screams filled the room as Joshua stood, throwing punches towards the last guy.

Ashley watched as Joshua managed to get the last guy in a headlock. It wouldn't be long now, her man, her mate, her pack leader to be was nearly free. She knew that he’d do what was asked. She knew that he wouldn't waver. She also knew that he’d die for her, do anything for her, as this was the very nature of things. They weren't like humans, with their casual misdeeds, the failing of things.

Joshua dropped the guy onto the floor, standing there, blood over his face, his fists dripping. His adrenaline eased, ever so slightly, as his sexual nature took control. The entire room seemed to vanish as he focused his eyes upon her. She was his, he was hers and right now, something that was always meant to be, would happen. He walked towards her, removing the mess of shirt, then removing the belt from his jeans.

Ashley watched him, unable to move, her eyes locked to his, as he appeared in front of her. She could feel the heat bellowing from his body, his skin so close to hers. He whined ever so slightly, as his head bowed to her, tilting to the side, asking to be accepted. She placed a hand onto his chest as she nuzzled his lips. They both smiled. Knowing. The emotions and heat encompassed the both of them and, as they both started to change into their true form, he ripped open her blouse and kissed her as passionately as he could. They were wolves, they were the new pack and, right now, there was only one more thing left to do.


Two days had passed, as Simon sat there on the bench outside of the Diner. He’d normally be bored but he’d managed to finally resolve a few things within his head. To his side the door opened and, after a few seconds, Joshua appeared. Ashley kissed him then vanished back into the diner. Simon stood, straightening his jacket, clearing his throat, as he approached, “Hello Joshua, my name is Simon,” to which Joshua nodded, saying nothing, as Simon continued, “I represent a company called Quarantine and I think that we should talk.”

Simon handed him a card and, as they walked towards Joshua’s car, they exchanged more words.

Not The End.

Monday, 6 August 2018


He stumbled, afraid, while placing a hand onto a library book stand. He had no idea what was happening, why it was happening, which resulted in the mild panic currently running through his veins. He could feel his heart pounding, literally wanting to break free from his chest, as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. Trying to find calm, telling himself that it would be okay, he started to control his breathing.

Opening his eyes, the room still spinning, he looked at his hand to see it burning. Literally burning. The flame, albeit small, covered his entire hand. As he lifted his other hand, also covered in increasing flames, he noticed that the book case had started to also burn due to his hand holding tight. Letting go, he made a guttural noise, the panic now fully in control. Stumbling backwards, into view of everyone in the main section of the library, he turned to see everyone suddenly stop. All not quite sure what they were seeing.

He lifted both of his hands into view, as the flames started to eat away at his clothes, with people in the distance starting to record with their phones. The typical society as he knew it. Two staff members ran over with fire extinguishers, blasting him as quickly as they could with the dry powder. At first it worked, a small little moment of hope returned to his mind but, as he blinked a few times, he watched as his hands again caught fire.

All his hopes, all his dreams, never witnessed, never actually being followed, quickly flew into his mind as his panic turned to tears. He fell to his knees, as the tears flowed. He thought of all of the moments he’d missed, the places that were presented to him, the seconds where he could have truly done something, but instead he was here. A student for life, never really amounting to anything, but still he’d held hope that he’d eventually manage to be more. Do more. Become more. With each tear, the fire grew. It didn't hurt. It didn't destroy his skin, as it instead simply engulfed him.

He could feel the intensity grow, with each passing second. The viewers had now moved closer, with their phones, making sure that they recorded every single second. The two people trying to help had stepped back, making the important phone calls asking for help. He wasn't sure if anyone, or anything, could help him at this point in time but at least someone was trying.

The last remaining scrap of clothing burned itself away from his body. Now completely covered in flame, his view obscured with the glowing red taint, he lowered his head, stopped crying and accepted that he was, at least, still alive. Maybe there was some rational explanation for what was happening. Maybe it was an optical illusion, someone playing a sick joke, as that’s what a lot of people liked these days. But, just maybe, this was real. This wasn't going to go away.

As his hope started to dwindle, to fade, the library doors opened and the small crowd stepped aside. Their mouths fully open, shocked at the sight in front of them. Four people, also covered in flame, walked towards the one kneeling on the floor. He raised his head slightly, seeing them approach, his heart nearly stopping as his mind failed to understand what was happening. Three of them stopped as the fourth walked up to him, kneeling, as she smiled, “Hello,” she said in such a calm soothing voice, “I know that you’re very scared right now, but everything will be okay!”
“What’s happening to me?” he asked, the fear apparent in his trembling voice. Her smile deepened, assuring him, relaxing him ever so slightly.
“You’re becoming something else, something new. You’re one of us and you always have been.”

She reached over, slowly, placing her hand into his. His head jerked backwards as the images flew into his mind. He saw distant planets, a world of flame, destruction, escape, a new life, a new beginning within another form. His breathing calmed as the images faded away, understanding everything. They were meant for a higher purpose, an existence of perfection, despite not actually amounting to anything within this world up until this very second.

They both stood, her hand still holding his, both now smiling. They were sparks, elements, sent here thousands of years previous, living within the new born children of this world, until the very moment where they managed to grow, to find the energy to emerge. They meant no harm, no destruction or loss of life, remaining dormant until a consciousness accepted them. He’d lost all hope, he’d amounted to nothing in this world, his anguish sending him to a place of new destruction, the destruction of ending his own life knocking at the walls of his heart and soul. He’d given up, simply wishing to become more, which sparked this change.

“What will we do now?” he asked with joy rising within his soul.
“We shall wait, gather the others, then feed the dying sun with our lives and live forever.”
He smiled again, knowing that right now, within this moment, his entire life had waited for this second. Through fear grew the realisation, the fire bellowing within him, thundering energy, meant that he willed this change. Unknowingly. He’d not let the world destroy him. Devour him. The endless lonely moments, forged the change, created the fire within. Where there is hope, he knew, that there would be fire.

Friday, 3 August 2018


The lights flickered, straining her eyes as she held her fear in her throat. Water, dripping down the walls on each side, she knew that she couldn't retreat as she’d just fallen into this corridor from above. It wasn't the longest corridor, despite the thin lighting failing to present all detail but what she could see, clearly, was the figure in front of her, in front of the only exit.

She’d heard the screams, the others screaming at the top of their lungs, so she was confident that the thing in front of her wasn't just going to let her leave. She felt the fear eating at her, willing her to cower in the corner, to close her eyes in a vain attempt to escape but this wasn't going to happen. The water, up to her waist, meant that there wasn't any corner to hide. It was either forward or… she held that thought for a second, frantically looking around for a second time. Nothing, just pipes, walls and water. A wall behind her and everything in view to her front.

Whatever it was it breathed the same air as her, judging by the condensation on its exhaled breath, which didn't make anything any easier. Dark skinned, like any reptile type creature, with two dark eyes as far as she could tell. It was large, maybe twice the size of her, which increased her wish to cry as she kept on looking at the thing. Slowly it opened its hands, exposing long nails. Her bottom lip started to shake as she realised that the word nails, didn't do the talons justice. As the fear grew she could swear that it had started to smile as it exposed the sharpest set of canines she’d ever seen.

An hour before she was calmly browsing a store catalogue, minding her own business, until her boyfriend had arrived with a few other characters. He had a supposed business deal, not too far away, so wondered if she’d like to accompany them. She didn't, as she’d rather just do what they’d planned, but being her, she’d simply stated yes and, as usual, done exactly what he wanted. The next minute they were heading along a very old underground passage. The rest, as well as the screams and running were then and this, this thing in front of her, was now.

She knew that she had little choice, or no choice at all, but to summon the inner strength to face this thing in front of her. The hardest thing in the world that she’d faced, so far, was simply saying no or to even escape something she simply no longer accepted. She’d been a passenger in her own life, directed by many others, defined, no one bothering to refine their time to see her real qualities, but that was also beside the point. For once in her life, right this second, she had no choice but to face things. This thing. That monster that we all never wished to meet. Being inquisitive, but usually remaining quiet, she really wanted to know where it had come from but, thinking things like that, wouldn't help with the fear. So many thoughts, with the few seconds remaining, she wished that she’d learnt to silence that enemy within her mind.

She stepped forward, just one footstep, but the thing growled as it lifted its arm, running a nail along a pipe. The sound echoed through the passage as she winced. Another step forward, another chance to escape. The monster in front did something that she’d never expect and, as she placed another foot forward it stepped backwards. A flicker of hope arose within her adrenaline filled body, as she held her head up, rubbing away a couple of tears that had appeared in the last few seconds. If this was to be her last few minutes on this world, she’d darn well want them to be brave moments.
Her fists, clenched tight, held firm as she moved ever closer. The thing, now next to the steps in front of the exit, couldn't move back any further. She moved forward again, then again, until she was literally within a footstep of the monster. She stared into its cold eyes, trying to see anything, a sign of aggression, fear, but nothing seemed to be behind its dark face. Maybe it was a moment of madness, or a moment of insanity, but she lent forward and with anger in her voice stated words that she’d wanted to say to many people on many occasions, “I'm not afraid of you! Nothing you can do will hurt me forever.”

The silence, despite the dripping water, seemed deafening as time slowed to a crawl. She realised that, for once, she felt no fear. None. Not even one scrap of foreboding pain. Her lip had stopped moving, her fingers relaxing, as the monster moved to the left side of the passage. She mirrored the thing and, without once letting its eyes leave her sight, she moved to the right. Lifting her arm, half expecting the thing to rip her throat away from her body at any second, she pressed the door’s safety bar and, thankfully, it opened as it should. Walking backwards up the few steps, through the door, she closed it behind her. Turning, walking slowly, she held her calm and never looked back. For the first time in her life, for once, which would forever change that life, she had finally beaten the Monster within.  She’d smile, she’d laugh, but not yet. Not just yet.

Monday, 30 July 2018


The emotion left me, draining away at a speed I could barely fathom, lips turning purple as my breathing faltered. At this point in time I simply did not know what to do. Should I say something, fight fire with the real flames of my mind, or should I simply rise from the ground that hit me so very, very hard. Abraxos smirked, standing near the door from which he’d struck me from behind. The coward, the snake within the very lives we loved, always scheming and creating lies. I trusted him, loved him as a Brother, to which he repaid all of us with the crimes of hate.

“Brother,” shouted Abraxos as loud as he could, “Welcome to the new world order of my making!” Dusting the speckles of concrete from my clothes, eager to show some type of respect for myself, I stood and clenched my fists. If I could I would beat him until the sun removed itself from the sky but, according to my will and the testament of my soul, I could not do such a thing. We were Angels, the scribed protectors of every single sacred soul. We were supposed to be more. We were… .

“Abraxos, why do you do this?  We are but three left upon this world?” I proclaimed with the sincerity of a broken heart.
“Don’t you mean, ‘we are but two’ upon this world?” he replied with a smug demeanour. The words cracked my heart into the thousand slices of aching. My eyes closed, my tears formed and my mouth opened with unbelievable pain. I fell again. Her face flashed before my very memory, tearing into my peaceful ways. I was no match for him. I knew this. We both knew this. I was a scribe, a writer of ways, the bringer of knowledge but that didn't mean that I couldn't inflict chaos upon his mortal like frame. The thoughts danced within my view, her lips, my wings keeping her warm upon this world over the centuries of dark rule. The pain.

The pain. Every muscle within my frame tightened with savage rage as I finally let loose the scream that shattered a thousand panes of glass. My head fell and, as I tried before, I rose from the ground. I looked at him, I wished for my gaze to rip him into nothingness. He had taken everything. Every single last moment destroyed. Her fingertips, gone, her words, missing, her touch, never to be mine again.
“Come, Brother, Abraxos will have words with you!” he mocked. I flew forward as fast as my wings would allow, with the feathers bending with such force the walls within this room fell. For a second he looked shocked, not realising that rage within a person knew no bounds. Both my fists struck his frame sending both of us flying outside, smashing through another building only to land in the adjacent field. I scrambled to my feet, grasping his throat, lifting him, striking him, again and again. He laughed. He simply laughed.

I saw her face, again, within my mind and I let go of his neck, to step back a few paces. It was no use. It was futile. I would die for her, end my existence for her, take any blow within this world as nothing could hurt as much as this.  “Well done my Friend, a valiant try,” he quipped, with possibly some honesty within his words, “You know that you never had a chance. The Archangel, the first, cannot leave this world!” He was right, we both knew this, but a scribe uses more than his fists when faced with a foe that knows no boundaries. I smiled, knowing that I’d actually won the battle despite my own life ending within the mere moments of pause.

Abraxos looked down, still smiling, only to see the small Angel Blade thrust deep into his chest. Being completely immortal meant that you hardly ever felt pain but this, the mortal blow, would end him in the most horrific way. I stepped forward knowing my end would begin, “You’ve lost, your power will soon no longer be yours my Friend. You’ll walk through this world never being able to die. But never able to fly, or see the Threads of life, you will be nothing!” I wanted to laugh as he removed the blade, his spark of life exposed, ready to move forward to another. The rage within his eyes grew, the ground began to tremble. Any second my life would end, my silence assured, my way to the next life of perfection. With a near slow motion view I relaxed as the real Angel Blades struck my neck. Ending me. Ending my life. The Angels we knew were no more. Now it’s your chance, humanities chance, to make things better.


Abraxos will return in my new Book, coming soon: Fallen Grace (Followed by Threads). Exciting!

Apparently it took 37 minutes to write/edit the above post. Including checking twice, finding the picture etc.

Friday, 27 July 2018


Flash. Gerald cast his eyes across the garden from inside the waiting suite, wondering, thinking of what he was about to impose onto the country. It was a bold move, liable to cause complete anarchy, but change had to come despite the cost. He had hope, honest real hope, that it wouldn't all collapse, but he didn't want to simply carry on, knowing what he knew. It was time for a change. A dramatic change.

He couldn't fathom how many times he’d relaxed his mind, using this very view to appreciate what they were all given, but despite the beauty in the world, within his world, he’d seen enough to finally move forward. Turning, as the door opened, he smiled as Cynthia arrived exactly on time. She was reliable, honest, despite a few of his staff simply agreeing to whatever he stated, he’d come to appreciate her qualities and frank ability to see things clearly. They’d had blazing arguments behind closed doors but, above all, he appreciated the fact that despite him being the president of the United States, she always tried to keep him rational and down to earth.

“How is today looking?” he asked with warmth and a slight amount of tension in his voice.
“It’s all going to plan. Absolutely no leaks, murmurs, nothing to suggest that anyone knows what you’re about to do,” She replied, with the same tension, “are you sure you want to do this?”
“After billions being spent, my entire fortune gone, I couldn't change my decision even if I wanted to do so!  Talk while we walk?” He asked as Cynthia nodded and smiled.

He’d met Cynthia on the campaign trail, marvelled at her energy, the drive, the fire and, in all honesty, he knew that she’d probably make a better President but sometimes fate didn't work that way. He’d support her, once the last year of his residency ended, but had a feeling that she wouldn't even attempt such a task. “What’s happening out there today Cynthia?” he asked as they walked from the office to the corridor.
“Amazon and Walmart are willing to contribute sizeable donations, to secure the space under 400 foot,” she paused letting the information settle, but only for a second, “Oil reserves are now at 37 percent and holding, for now and that’s it for today.”
He knew that Cynthia was looking for a change of mood, a possible reaction, but he’d been working on his poker face, blocking his often easy to read expressions.
“You can tell Amazon and Walmart that the sky isn’t for sale, at least until my Son has become bored of flying aircraft and, the oil, will shortly become a non-issue. Hopefully.” He glanced at her face, knowing that she’d been checking, “How did I do?” he asked.
“Not bad, not bad at all. This time!”

They both laughed and, as the door approached, he stopped to stretch his neck a few times. Tension, at moments such as this, simply wouldn’t do. He handled the stress, even become accustomed to it, but it was still there within his bones and especially muscles. Stretching worked wonders, as did laughter, but there wouldn’t be any laughter for now. “Ready?” asked Cynthia.
“More than I’ll ever be in my life!” he replied and then moved towards the door.

The lights started to flash the moment the door opened, leading into a large room filled with representatives of every known main newspaper in the entire world. The buzz, the aura of the room, hit him and it never managed to seem old. The adrenaline moved through him and he caught the energy, held it, calmed himself and approached the podium. He glanced around the room, seeing familiar faces, some new, some old, but all wanting to feed upon his words. Every single letter, for the people in front of him, spelt money. Hundreds of articles, spinning of words, the joining of conclusions and more.

He cleared his throat and began. He knew that the words would cause immense shock but this had to be done. He removed all fear from his voice, erased it from his mind, then began.

“Good Evening. Today is a brave new day for the people of the United States of America. Today, on this day, we are embarking on a planet level change. We are about to lead the entire world in to a new era of positivity, growth and energy. For too long we have been held back, by greed, consumption, hidden wars and corruption on a global scale. I am talking about our daily lives, how we move through our lives, with our loved ones, to simply existing.”

“Today, right now, I have made a decision to move the $582.7 billion defence budget, for two years, to create and implement the factories required to manufacture part electric, part solar powered cars and other vehicles, for each and every single person who would like to participate. For a small charge of $800 dollars, per household, you can purchase two cars. As you have already funded this initiative via taxation it would be unfair to charge more. This, as well as other initiatives, are meant to eradicate the necessity for oil. For consumption. For waste. This…”

Flash. Clive leaned back in to his chair, shaking his head, amazed by what he’d seen. “Un-plug him and get him back upstairs!” he barked. For the last few years each University graduate, that had political motivation, had been tested for Presidential suitability and, as he’d known Gerald for a few years, he did have high hopes of success with this candidate. His clients paid a small fortune for this project and yet, so far, only two out of 90 tested presented the correct results. He needed to find someone charismatic, who believed in the appropriate way, but the new educational system was creating thinkers, people that wanted change, yet change could not be allowed to happen.

Ten minutes later Clive sat within the library dorm room, smiling at Gerald, while explaining that the results had been positive, that he would have a fantastic future. Gerald shook Clive’s hand, expressed pleasantries and left the room. Pressing the power button, on his laptop, the screen appeared and next to Gerald’s name, Clive typed, ‘Not suitable. Will not be presented with any avenue to proceed further than grade Foxtrot.