The Door

The door to imagination had been left ajar. Whoever had been in last had failed to close it properly as they left and as a result imagination had begun to leak out. Like water it seeped across the ground and the first to be aware were the children who were nearer to it. They took great handfuls and threw it at each other. They ran through it and tossed it into the air so it would fall over their heads and shoulders. 

The elders could not understand what was happening as many of the youngsters began to speak of great ideas and hopes. Some however, a much smaller group, spoke of their fears and worries.

As the tide of imagination began to rise so the elders began to feel its affect. Now most could see worries and concerns but some, a much smaller group, saw ideas, ambitions and hopes.

Soon someone discovered the opened door and slammed it shut and, as the imagination drained away, everyone returned to just existing.

If the door is ever left open again do you wonder what might you see?

The Day they Named the Bears

'What should we call the black one?'

'Black Bear'

'And the brown one?'

'Brown Bear'

'And the one that looks like it's wearing glasses'

'Spectacle Bear'

'Oh, I'm getting the hang of this. So, the white one?'

'Polar Bear.'

'Oh'

'That'll teach you'

Little Arms and Sleepless Dinosaurs

So a restless night brought a moment when I wondered how that most legendary of dinosaurs the Tyrannosaurus Rex slept. Lying in bed I lifted my forearms from the elbows at 90 degrees and wondered, as the duvet raised slightly, how uncomfortable it was. How awkward that enormous tail would be when lying on its back. So, I imagined it nestled in a ball on its side, safe and comfortable. That image made me see the T Rex in a different light to the traditional Hollywood presentation of constant killer. Softer, warmer and who knows perhaps that was a part of its character.

Then I wondered about a Stegosaurus sleeping. You know the dinosaurs, the ones with the massive upright plates emerging from their backs. Now imagine one dozing and accidentally rolling over onto its back and the plates sinking into the soft soil leaving it pinned to the ground with its tummy and legs facing the sky.

Then imagine the T Rex waking up and seeing the Stegosaurus stuck, prostrate with its stomach all vulnerable and gleaming. The T Rex approaches and the Stegosaurus fears the worse. And it is the worse. The T Rex moves its enormous head towards the fearful dinosaurs abdomen and then ……..does the most enormous ‘raspberry’ blow on its belly button.

What a sight and what a sound. The T Rex’s head going ‘wibble, wibble, wibble’ whilst the sound of a giant raspberry blow fills the air. The noise only matched by that of the Stegosaurus with its screams of uncontrolled giggles.

Of course to those dinosaurs watching on from a distance it didn’t seem like a friendly attack but rather that of murderous devouring. It didn’t matter how much the Stegosaurus explained to the others it was all in fun and didn't hurt a bit , I'm afraid the story that T Rex was a vicious killer was too quickly spread to stop.

In the months that went by T Rex found less and less dinosaurs wanted to be near him. It upset him so much he slept very badly, his temper neared the surface and soon he took the view. ‘Well, it that’s what they think I am. That’s what I’m going to be.’ And all because little arms can’t lift a duvet high enough to be comfortable.

(and yes, I know they never existed at the same time, and didn't have duvets)

The Cuddle

He stood on the bridge as a sea of people ebbed and flowed in front of him. He knew the bridge well, it had been his walk to work for over forty years until his retirement.

He stood and shouted ‘I want to be held, I want to be cuddled.’

The people kept to their journeys untroubled by his outburst.

‘I want to be held again, I want to be cuddled.’

Emerging from the crowd a young and beautiful woman made her way towards him. She reached out her arms and as she held him the people and bridge faded away. He found peace.

-

When the Police broke through the door they found him in bed cuddling a pillow. It didn’t take a moment to know he was dead.

-

As neighbours gathered outside one spoke for them all. ‘Apparently his wife died a year ago. I imagine he was lonely. We kept thinking about talking to him but he was old and you don’t want to pry do you.’

Tenor and Bass

The audience fell quiet. He was the finest Bass of his generation, for many the finest Bass of all time & the chance to see him was something to covet. After what felt like a lifetime his mouth opened........... & bubbles came out. What a fish

Dead Men's Shoes

Walking past the charity shop he paused to look into the window. It was not usual for him but something had caught his eye. He glanced through the collections of cut glass, china, books and DVD’s but couldn’t trace what had made him stop.

Through the glass he could see the two old ladies looking up from their desk in hopes of a sale. It was then he saw what had subconsciously caught his eye. A pair of beautiful brown leather brogues. Not his style at all but somehow they just seemed ….. right.

He was running late already but he decided to pop his head in the door to ask the size. He somehow knew they would say ‘size nine’ and sure enough the older of the two women confirmed what he thought with a smile.

He glanced at his watch and decided he could be a few more minutes late for his meeting.

‘Can I try them on?’

The smaller of the women held out a tortoise shell shoehorn and indicated a seat near the back. He took the shoes and the rather quaint shoehorn sat and slipped off his shoes.

As soon as the first went on he felt different, the second completed the change. He looked down and almost didn’t recognize his feet with this new look. When the laces were done up he stood and glanced in the mirror.

He liked them, liked them a lot. Of course they really needed a new suit and as if the two old ladies had read his mind they were there with a brown tweed double breasted suit and waistcoat. He checked the time. Better to be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb he reasoned.

Standing inside the changing room he smoothed down the waistcoat and looked at himself in the mirror. It was perfect. He sniffed the sleeve of the jacket, it smelt fresh not like something from a charity shop so he decided to keep it on.

Parting with money at the desk he added two white shirts and three ties and left happy for his meeting.

The two old ladies smiled as he left before the younger spoke.

‘He looked the spitting image of your Ted in his clothes.’

‘He did,’ the other said with a tear forming in her eye. ‘wonder if he realised they were a dead man’s shoes?’

‘I hope not, but I wonder if he will be so quick to jump into his grave.’

Sitting in his meeting after apologising for being late and receiving compliments for his suit and shoes he began to feel a tingle down his arm and a tightening across his chest.

Back in the shop the two ladies rearranged the displays. ‘Make sure you leave room for the shoes,’ said the elder

The Pain

He couldn’t remember when he first became aware of his ‘gift’. Before he realised others were commenting on it. His parents grew quite used to their friends saying things such as ‘isn’t it odd how he never falls over’ when he was just a toddler. For him it was simple, he could anticipate pain, he could see what was going to hurt him.

So even when learning to walk he would see himself about to fall over and would stop to steady himself before it happened. At school he was able to avoid playground clashes by knowing when to walk away. He excelled at rubgy with his teachers thinking he was great at the sport. He wasn’t, he just knew when a tackle was about to hurt him. He understood he had appendicitis before it started and mimicked the symptoms to make sure he was at the hospital before it started.

As he grew older and began to care more about others and less totally about himself his ‘gift’ meant he could feel the pain loved ones were about to experience. However this started the sense that his ‘gift’ was in fact a curse, what good was feeling pain if you could do nothing to prevent it. He experienced his Father’s fatal heart attack half an hour before it happened but being before the time of mobile phones he was unable to do a thing to prevent it. He bore his Mother’s pains of sadness inside him for years.

Later the ‘gift’ began to presage major disasters. He saw the planes, the bombs, the natural disasters with a helplessness that slowly increased the sense of uselessness.

But then, the day. Waiting in the pub for his girlfriend and toying with a pint in anticipation of a wonderful night ahead he felt it. He felt the wracking pain of a car crash, his girlfriend’s Toyota crushed by a lorry, he felt her life ebbing away. This time he could do something. He picked up his mobile and called to warn her.

Driving along the motorway she heard her phone go from her handbag, she looked down to reach across taking her eyes off the road for a moment.