Wednesday, 27 March 2013


It is per rule that prison inmates have to get up early. It's one of the perversities of prison, and most do it by force and grumbling. There was one women's prison, though, where every Thursday started with pleasant anticipation, and every inmate got up a little bit earlier than necessary. This was because the previous night an unknown donor threw a chocolate bar (or similar) each through their cells' outer windows.
The donor's name was Pete, and he was but a boy on the verges of manhood. He thought it was such fun to throw gifts through people's windows, but at some point, simple fun is not enough any more.

Sunday, 10 March 2013


The argument wasn't loud as such - nobody shouted. It was intense, though, and the pure anger in the air must have been what had woken Andy. He lay still, thinking that he should turn around and go back to sleep, but curiousness won. He got up and, careful not to make a noise, opened the door a fraction. The voices were still barely audible, so he crept along the hall towards the living room. As he passed by a window, Andy could see his grandparent's vehicle outside, the one of his father's parents, not his mother's. He made a face - they were not very nice, but at least he now knew who had caused the argument.
Few steps away from the half-closed living room door he stopped to listen to the voice of his grandmother Claire, high and sharp.
"This nonsense was abandoned with good reason. It's not even in the history books! And you let your son come in contact with it! I can't believe you let him talk to this, this..."
"Enough!" That was his mother. "'This, this...' just happens to be my grandfather, and I will not tolerate your scolding him! Andy had every right to see him before he passes away, he loves him!"
"But he will not be around to live with the consequences," replied Andy's grandfather. His voice always was deep and calm, that's what made it so scary sometimes. "My grandson shall never be told about religion, I thought we agreed on that."
His mother sniffed. "You did, yes."
"Now, dear," said his father. "The government banned religion from the public and from education. We shouldn't make exceptions."
"Fine. I know when I'm outnumbered."
Andy hurried into the kitchen just in time before his mother left the living room and locked herself in the bedroom.
When he had safely returned to his bed, only one question occupied his mind: What's religion?

Saturday, 9 March 2013


It had been a lot of work, convincing his parents to let him visit Dan one last time. Dan...
When Andy was younger, too young to say "great-granddad", they had visited him and Lucy often. But after her death two years ago, Dan had started acting weird, or so Andy's parents said. Andy had noticed a change, but it hadn't frightened him like it did his parents. He was getting old, after all, and lonely without his wife. Andy argued that it would help Dan if they visited him more often instead of staying away, but he was only five at the time and his parents didn't listen.
Now he was seven, and Dan was dying. He wanted to say goodbye, and they couldn't argue that away.