“I don’t know,” she said to the young male shop assistant who was offering to supersize her drink. “I don’t really want twice as much. I don’t think I would be able to drink that much.” “Well,” said the young male assistant looking around to make sure no one could hear him. “I could help […]
I am a man who likes order and routine and I keep to one every day. I arise at 6.00am, toilet, have two large glasses of water, drag the dog around the block for 56 minutes, shower and catch the bus into the city to my place of work. At the Ministry of Planning, which […]
Everyone was waiting for the revolution. They had all heard about others and the tremendous benefits a revolution would bring. They felt there was a great need for the population to rise as one and assuage war against the oppressors. This would be their crowd sourced revolution. From the people, for the people. Who would […]
I am the invisible man. I have been invisible all my life. I walk past cars and they don’t notice me. Tall buildings that stand regally in the sun, don’t even blink when I walk through their revolving doors. I am the invisible man. Nemesis to the vain, a burden to none.
She hears her child’s call through the darkness, from a far off place as if in a dream. It’s really just from the bedroom across the corridor, through a layer of night and sleep. The beam of her bedside clock says 1.45am. Mothers seem to instinctively hear that cry, that scream. They’ll sleep through the […]
The year is 1939. A young boy follows his mother into a Doctor’s Surgery. She is carrying a small tin, the lid painstakingly illustrated with bottles of wine. The boy swallows and looks around his mother, stealing a glimpse of the Doctor who is happily chugging away at a cigar while he lounges forward in […]
Here is my daughter’s Trailer for The Lottery. She created the Storyboard, directed the film, found the music and edited it all together. I am amazed at the quality for a 14 year old.
So, I was walking my dog the other night. It was cold, foggy, and dark, when suddenly she runs off and no matter how much I call she doesn’t respond. I notice she has run down some steps, into an alleyway and disappeared in someone’s doorway. I feel like Nelly Futado in that clip, Maneater. […]
He slapped her face hard. It had not surprised her, nor did it make her angry. She expected nothing more, nothing less. A trickle of blood pushed itself free from the skin near her lip.
Now, where I went to school, lunch time was mainly taken up trying to get your mouth around a rather large sandwich. In fact, to call it a sandwich is a misnomer.
citizenjoe 