The Unfinisher

I have no trouble writing. No problem at all.

It’s in finishing pieces that the difficulty lies, waiting for me to stroll innocently past its dark little hole. I’ve had Hamlet… In Purgatory lingering ironically in limbo since before I started this blog, The Chocalypse is not so much approaching with thundering strides as pottering along hiding behind its mummy’s legs, and I’ve not worked on Nocturn editing  for weeks.

I’ve started and finished a load of little short pieces, but they count for naught until I have enough to do something with them. So, in the interest  of kicking my arse into touch a bit, here’s my plan:

1. Hamlet… In Purgatory – Deadline: 15th October

2. The Chocalypse – Deadline: 1st November

3. Nocturn – Deadline: 15th December

If I can sneak The Director’s Vamp in there somewhere too, that’d be a bonus, but I think that’s going to have to be one for the new year.

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PGCE

Paperwork Pixies…  Their cunning knows no bounds.

Today was great though, really enjoyed my first day of the course though it feels strange being back at Uni not as an undergraduate.

Running on 3 hours sleep, so about to crash on my bed. I shall aim for the little bugger down there waving a Subject Knowledge Performance Audit at me.

Busy Brain

Hmm. Woke up in bed this morning chewing my own arm. Odd. What’s more though, is I’ve caught a cold off the school children I’ve been working with this past week, so feeling particularly knackered for my first day of proper PGCE’dom tomorrow. Start as I mean to go on, eh?

As for all this Medpro stuff… I’ve no idea what it’s all about. Trying to get rid of it, but something in my mind keeps niggling me not to whenever I go to change the background.

Right now I need to get back to work; I’m quckly learning that a PGCE student’s paperwork is never done. There’s always one more form, one more assignment, one more ‘I-am-not-a-psychopath’ declaration to fill in…

— A Notification From Medpro —

Test 3875B has been completed to our satisfaction.

All subjects have been reverted to a state of cerebrosensual normalcy.

Medpro asks you to heed that this is a routine notification for all parties affected by the recent incident in the Grimmsgate area, but also hopes that you do not misconstrue it as an apology. As an organisation at the forefront of human progress we will continue to test the limits of the mind’s capacity for imagination. The manifestation of this previously  intangible zephyr is now, we are delighted to say, within our grasp.

Thank you for your co-operation.

ENd

Hard to cordinate, and Im’ feeling so hungry. Ive eaten everything  in thehouse but it hasnt made me feel any better. Hunger remains.

Shtt. I can hear banging on the barricadae I put up at  the bottm of the stairs… . Goig to have to think of something. ONly one more and then theyll be aknock knock kncoking on my brainbox

Just to brighttn up  my morning, realised cuts on hand were     infected too;’ woke up and couldntt’ move my fingers- the arm w as dead up to my shouldere. Got shivers thinking aabout it, or that might just be

fear

Anhway i cut the buggerr offfSeemed like the sinsble thing to dol ::didn’t want infecton to sprrread, but hels bells it hurts and doesn'[t look like it workedd Dosn’tfeel like it eether, and still hunnngnrty

n othing lieftto eat cept the arm. Hehhh/

4looks. . tasttyhujkl;’#

rgbou

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Surviving

Still here. Hand’s throbbing like mad though; each pulse seems to travel right through into my head, and when my heart rate is high (which is all the time, now) it pounds so badly it’s hard to think straight.

Just took off the bandages and damn…  the scratches look grim. Least of my worries though; there are sounds of gunfire outside today. I think somebody might be trying to escape the city. Good luck to them.

The moans… it’d be fine if it weren’t for the sodding moans. They’re not getting in, I’ve made sure of that, (at least, it does me good to think it) but I can’t get out either, so neither me or them are winners in this situation.

They Are Walking

The day before yesterday, they tore my neighbour apart.

Can’t type much, need to be on my guard – there’s a group of them outside in the street. I haven’t had any lights on for the past three days, and in the evening gloom, the glow of the monitor is a spotlight. Sound is also an issue; not dared turn on the taps since it started either, and never mind flushing the toilet. Their incessant moans are loud, and they might not notice… but it’s not worth finding out.

It happened so suddenly. I was in the city centre when things really kicked off, and one minute everything was quiet, the next there were so many. Everywhere. They weren’t even moving quickly; they were just there. The streets were carnage within minutes.

It took me an hour to get back from the centre of town, and I only even made it this far with the help of – bizarrely – the local shop keeper who sells me overpriced Indian readymeals.

Sold, I suppose.

I ran into him in the panic, and he pointed out a back-street, blocked by a crashed ambulance, that lead back in the direction of Grimmsgate, and for a good ten minutes of winding through back gardens we were mercifully free of the chaos that the screams echoing around us were reporting.

I didn’t see the woman fall from the balcony, until it was too late. There was a gutteral noise, a rush of of foul-smelling air, and a sack of skin and teeth was upon the shop keeper (I don’t even know what his name was…) before I could react. Within seconds there was blood everywhere, and he was yelling at me to run. So I ran, and ran, until I found myself slamming against the reassuring solidity of my front door.

So here I am. Three days later. My housemate hasn’t turned up, so I can only assume he… no, got to stay positive. Hopefully he found somewhere to hole up. The University maybe.

For anyone reading this : Hell has come to Grimmsgate. Stay away from Leicester, I think it’s too late for us. I only hope this isn’t happening anywhere else.

This morning, I watched my neighbour’s ragged torso dragging itself down the street.

The Niggle

.

There was a new student at Leicester

About to start his first semester

But it quickly became clear

As the beginning drew near

That something was starting to fester

.

It was not in his stomach, this niggling new doubt

Nor in his sock pile – which was starting to sprout

Rather it happened to be

(just between you and me)

in his mind, and it made him pout

.

Now I’m sure you’ll concur

Both madams, and sirs

That pouting can never be handsome

“But it couldn’t be helped!”

The young man would have yelped

if the issue had been brought to ransom

.

And it may well be, that the gentleman here

Was unable to alter his manner

But the point to be made

As blunt as a spade

Is the fellow’s just being a spanner

.

“So why is it,” you’re entitled to ask

“that you mention this dull metaphor?”

“Because,” I’d sigh, in weary reply,

“there are things he’d be much better for.”

.

Bad Parking

I’ve been away in Cheltenham for the weekend, and returned this evening to find, after being subjected to a load of security checks at the railway station (?!), that some kind of city-wide curfew has been put in place. Obviously it’s got something to do with the recent outbreaks of violence and what-have-you, but that’s all anyone seems to know. It hasn’t been implemented well at all; a lot of people (myself included) had never even heard of it until it was in effect. There are still plenty of cars on the road though, and from what I could see, I’d guess that with the state of the streets and lack of buses (which seem to have stopped running), people have started to carpool more, as I didn’t see many empty seats.

It was as I made my way back home, through the local park, that something happened to change things. I’m looking at this city under a twisted new light tonight.

Victoria Park (as it is known) used to be a horse-racing circuit, so that might give you some idea about the size of the thing. Anyway, because of this, the lamp posts are scattered thinly among the trees and winding pathways, and, in all honesty, walking across it at night is generally not the wisest of things to do at the best of times, never mind with all the strange stuff going on here recently. But it was late, I wanted to get home, etc. etc., so I set off over the grass.

I was almost exactly half-way across when an asian chap jumped out from the gloom, right at me. He must have been hiding behind a bush nearby, because he just stumbled right out in front of me, arms outstretched and mouth gaping as if he was yawning… it made for a pretty chilling sight, and one hell of a nasty shock. Then there was the smell – be glad that text is a scentless medium, that’s all I’m saying…

Anyhow, I wasn’t taking any chances, so skirted round him. It was a close thing, as the path was narrow, but he was slow in turning and I was past before his arms tould snag me. It was time enough, however, to get a fairly good look at his face. God help me. His eyes were covered with a milky film, and they were as vacant as any blind man’s. His skin was spattered with blood, a dark brown freckling in the dim light, and the bones in his jaw made a gristly grinding sound as I passed him and broke into a sprint.

He began to follow.

As I ran, it occured that, of course, I had my phone on me, complete with camera function. Wanting to capture a picture of my grim assailant, I yanked it out of my coat pocket and took some shots behind me as I ran, not looking back myself. This is the only one that came out anywhere near decent:

I’m sorry to say the quality is shite, but you’ll have to cut me some slack on that one 😉 By the time I reached the main road, and had careered over to the other side, I finally gained the courage to look behind me. There was no sign of him, or anything else out of the ordinary.

Now, back in the safety of my own home, there’s a word playing across my mind. I barely want to acknowledge its presence in my wonderings as being even slightly accurate, and it’s probably a result of watching lots of horror movies /playing one too many computer games, but all the same…

Seven Days, Seven Nights, Seven Deadly Sins…

It’s been a busy week.

I was in York for a few days as my parents were over from Chicago, and had a fantastic time. Upon returning to Farndale Close, however, things seem only to have gotten worse since I was away. Vandalism’s becoming almost commonplace; I wake up to find windows are smashed constantly, and there was blood on our front gate this morning. I don’t know if it’s domestic violence spilling out onto the streets, student fights getting out of hand or what; I just see the occasional ragged-looking individual staggering along, bashing on the windows of parked cars, that sort of thing. I stay well away.

This evening, after days of ringing doorbells to no avail, I finally caught a neighbour hurrying back into their house. White as a  frightened sheet, he just said that ‘people are crazy’. I asked him what he meant, but at that moment there was a crashing sound from inside his house, and he pushed me away. Before I could say or do anything, he had withdrawn from the porch and slammed the door shut. Of course, I knocked to see if everything was okay, but there was no reply… At any rate, the crashing sounds stopped soon after, and a few moments later I retreated back into my own house, and have not gone back round since.

Cowardly? Perhaps. But you don’t know what it’s like here. I feel afraid to expose my back to the open street, and I don’t know why. A leaflet came through the door this morning from, I presume, the local church, sporting the cheery message – GOD IS JUDGING US ALL.  DO YOU KNOW YOUR SINS?

Well, me and my sins all get along famously, thankyou. Here’s a round up of this week’s:

Gluttony – The few days up in York with the ‘rents was one of food, booze, food and more booze. Loved it.

Greed – Even though I have a perfectly good, newly bought phone, I want an iPhone. I have a 24″ monitor, but I want an HD television, even though I barely watch any telly. The list goes on…

Envy – Oh yeah, I’m full of that stuff. Who isn’t? I wish I had as much money as him, I deserve it more, etc. etc.

Pride – I don’t really see why this is a deadly sin. Pride in excess, I suppose it means. Well, I’m probably overly proud of my writing, but I think it deserves it. Oh… yep… there we go!

Sloth – But I don’t write as often as I should at the moment.

Lust – Seeing Thi tomorrow for the first time in two weeks. Missed her a lot. Can be forgiven a bit of Lust, methinks.

Wrath – My least-used sin. But I’m pissed off at the council, for ‘forgetting’ about my claims trying to retrieve the £900 that they paid into someone else’s bank account. Useless!

Anyway, enough about me; how about you? Are there any secret sins sizzling silently in your soul?