Twitch

"This is gooooooood!" she said softly. The sand beneath her fingers was warm and soft to the touch. She'd been doing sand angels in the moonlight, staring up to the skies above her. She didnt know what all of the constellations were called, but she had an app for it.

The dog sat beside her asked, "What do they call you?"

"My name is Diane, but they call me Twitch. When I was a baby, I used to do this funny jerky thing with my hand when I was feeding. So the name stuck."

"Twitch," the dog repeated. "It suits you."

"Have you ever seen a space ship?" she asked.

The dog raised an eyebrow, "No." Though he figured stranger things had happened. After all, he'd found a human that could speak to him.

"Do you have a home?" she asked.

"No," the dog replied.

"Where's your bed then?"

"I have a habit of falling out of beds, so I sleep on the floor now."

She giggled, "That's just silly!"

"I'm a dog. Bite me."

She laughed harder at that. "You should try a hammock. Everyone falls out of a hammock!"

Ok. He may have found a human who understood him, but Twitch wasn't the brightest of kids. "Do you go to school?"

"No. I ran away from home to join the circus. I always wanted to be a monkey and hug bananas all day."

Not the brightest? Hmm... bit of an understatement there. "Monkey's eat bananas, they don't hug them."

She frowned. "Can I hug them first?"

"Only the ones that hug you back."

"Okay!"

Sweet Jesus!

The sun had set about an hour ago, and the dog had been sat next to her the whole time. The conversation had been like just this, and he was starting to lose his patience. Where were her parents?

"Do you think they have circuses in space?"

"If they do, you'll fit right in."

"I can climb trees too," she said, "so long as the bottom branches are close to the ground."

"Do you like climbing trees?" Ah! He regretted that as soon as he'd said it!

"Of course I do! I want to be a monkey!"

The moon was rising, and it was full. Its beauty left them both speechless for a while. It glimmered off the sea like molten silver, disturbed only by the gentle lapping of waves.

"If I stayed here forever, will you stay with me?" she asked.

The dog sighed. He could think of worse places to be. Perhaps if that happened, he could educate her more. Talking to her like this forever would frustrate him.

They came an hour later, escorted by a police car. They'd been looking for her for three hours. The dog took his leave when he saw the mother, in tears of joy, sweep her daughter into her arms, thanking the policeman over and over again.

Had he stayed, the cops would have called the dog catchers out. He knew what happened to old dogs that were caught by dog catchers. And he was old. Older than the moon.

"I met my best friend in the whole world tonight," the little girl was saying as they herded her towards the car. "I knew he was my best friend the moment I met him!"

The dog made his way down the beach, away from the flashing lights, to look for the next stray human to save. And he did so smiling.

The Running Man

It had been one of those days. Anything that could have gone wrong, had gone wrong. The toast burnt; no toilet paper in the bathroom (why hadn't she replaced it?); missing sock (no doubt, gone to washing machine/dryer heaven). Even the washer fluid in the car had run out.

She caught every light on the way to work, and was already running late. The boss was supposed to be on holiday, but stood tapping his watch as she ran to her desk, mouthing her apologies to him.

Flustered, the day got worse as everyone in the office seemed to have questions for her, and by the time 5 o'clock came, she was ready to murder someone!

He was always there though. In the back of her mind. His smooth ways and his powerful movements. The Running Man was everything to her. He was her escape. He was the one who made those long evenings exciting. Who brought a smile to her face. He was the life and soul of the party. People laughed at his humour and others wished they were just a fraction as cool.

When he showed up, he took over everything. Her mind, her body, her soul.

Terry

As she bent over to pick up her jumper, the old man on the bench said, "Look! There are two moons out tonight!" She'd looked up to the sky before she realised what the cheeky bugger meant. Tutting at him loudly, she waddled off down the street, mumbling to herself.

Terry chuckled. He knew she'd go home and have a laugh with her husband and two sons over it. He knew she was the type who loved a bit of banter.

He knew everything about everyone. He knew that the young girl standing at the bus stop checking her phone every five seconds was waiting for that call or text or message. She'd had a row with her boyfriend and was waiting for him to call her. He also knew he wouldn't,  and that by the time she got off the bus at her destination,  she'd have called him. Terry also knew he wasn't worth it.

He knew that the gardener weeding the pansies in his garden was about to win the lottery. He also knew that the resulting increase of cash flow would see his whole family fight and fall apart. You had to be careful of what you wished for these days.

He knew that that the young woman locking the doors on her flower shop was two weeks pregnant. She didn't know yet.

He knew that the driver of the flash audi was going to die on the M1 at 7:21 the following morning. Car pile ups were a nasty business.

What Terry didn't know, however,  was who or where he was, why he was there, or where he had been. He just knew that he was. And that was always enough for him. He didn't feel hungry, but couldn't remember ever eating. He wasn't thirsty, but didn't know the last time he drank. He didn't know where he lived or slept, but wasn't sleepy so didn't really care.

He just knew that he was.

Animals had a habit of gravitating toward him. At his feet sat 2 stray dogs and three cats. The cats all had different owners, and their names were Shelley, Ozzy and Munch. The dogs lived around the town somewhere, and he knew they'd be picked up and re homed soon. The bitch was going to live with the Jacob family in Hustletoon Road. The male was going to end up on a farm. Both would be loved and cared for. Terry smiled as he stroked their heads. All was good.

A man in a suit came to sit next to him. He looked like a man in despair. He didn't acknowledge Terry. He just sat and held his head in his hands as he wept.

Terry watched him for a moment, then knew his story. It had been the best year for the young father. His beautiful wife was six months pregnant with their second, he'd had two job promotions, their bid on the new house had been accepted and his brother had been given the all clear after years of cancer treatment. Up until 26minutes ago, he'd been the happiest he'd ever been in his life.

Then he'd recieved the phone call. His father had passed away. He had adored him. They had been the best of friends for his whole life. His father always had a way of cheering him up when things were down. They'd had this secret way of making each other laugh, even through tears.

Terry could see it now. The father would tilt the boys head up and say, "Chin up lad, it's not all bad!" Then he would play-punch the side of the boys chin gently, "I could be Sugar Ray, and that punch could hurt!"

Sugar Ray was dead, and so was this mans father. But the love would never die. Terry knew this. Terry knew that he would do exactly the same to the unborn son that his wife now carried. Terry knew that though people don't last forever, their legacies did. Small things they said or did. Generations would carry it forward. That was just the way things were.

He got up from the bench, and stood before the weeping man. "Chin up, lad," he said, and the man raised his face in wonder to the ghost that stood before him. Terry gently play-punched him, and even as his hand glided though the mans chin like it was air,  he still said, "I could be Sugar Ray!"

"And that punch could hurt," the man finished, the tears in his eyes blinding him from the magic before him.

Terry wandered off, knowing that his job on that bench was complete. He did not know what or who he was, he just knew that he was.

Being Damned

It's been a while...

Being Grey was first published on Kindle in 2010, with the promise of the follow up books hanging over my head like an awkward post it note. "Don't forget!"

The first book will soon be available in paperback and on iBooks, and I will update you all on the release date when I have it. This will be edition 2, but the story remains unchanged.

Being Damned has been a work in progress for about a year now, and Gina and I have toyed with so many ideas! We have now, however, finalised those ideas and today, we finished chapter one!

What do you think will happen to Alice and the Pure Seers? Ian left her destroyed and confused at the end of the last book... How will the tale unfold?

If you haven't read Being Grey, pop over to Amazon to read it now!

Being Damned has its drawbacks, but it is definitely a lot more fun...