Yesterday, I was happy to receive an e-mail. Yes, I know that Gmail apparently crashed... and that wasn't why I was happy.
The e-mail was a job offer:
Good day Mr ......,
We are delighted to formally offer you an employment to work with us in our Company. We have picked out your resume from totaljobs.com.
The position is subjected to the following terms and conditions:
• Compensation: Will be paid in monthly installments of 1,500 pounds,
subject to deductions for taxes and withholdings as required by law and
the company policies.
• 8 % Commission.
• Benefits:
- Formal training via our personal supervisor training program
- Management growth opportunities
- Health care and retirement plan
- Solid technology support
- Paid vacation
- Paid Sick leave
• Non-Compete Agreement: non-compete agreement must be signed prior to start.
• Terminating the employment: employment is at-will basis. Both parties
can terminate the relationship with a notice of 2 weeks at any time.
If you are in agreement with the above outline, please let me know. This offer is in effect for 1 week.
Please review this offer of employment, if you have any queries about these please do not hesitate to contact contact us at office.hr.simon@gmail.com.
I had to read it a couple of times. There were no attachments, and no other details.
I was meeting a jobs adviser later that day and I forwarded the e-mail onto him, and when I saw him, he told me that it was a scam, and not only that, but it was quite common. People are desperate for jobs these days, and so they'd probably be as elated as I was to receive an e-mail with a job offer.
So things to look out for.
No details with regards to the job itself.
No company details.
No company e-mail, which will be formal and will probably have a company logo.
Use of the word "resume". In the UK we prefer "curriculum vitae" or "CV"
Use of the word "vacation". We might have annual leave or holiday pay.
If this is apparently quite common, why aren't online job agencies making sure that the companies are legitimate??? I did forward this to totaljobs.com and will see what happens. But I deliberately included the senders e-mail so that hopefully you're aware if you get something similar.
Happy and safe job-hunting.
Joe.
Saturday, 25 January 2014
Thursday, 9 January 2014
A Change of Direction.
I couldn't write this blog before Christmas. Actually, I couldn't write at all before Christmas.
Last year (2013) wasn't a good year for me. One emergency operation in March derailed me (not long after I'd celebrated my 40th birthday). It took another one in August to put me back on track. And then it happened.
I was made redundant.
I worked for an organisation for 12 years, over a quarter of my life. I worked for a disability organisation whose primary aim is to promote independent living, and I enjoyed my job. Being diabled myself was a handy bonus because I could be all empathic and mean it. Plus I loved working with people. But like every place of work, the word "restructure" means job losses. I'd been through two before and "survived" (if you can call it that). And we're not all like Keannu Reeves, we can't always dodge bullets. The third restructure hit me hard. The Council had cut funding which meant that there were going to be severe changes in the organisation. Which meant that my job, which I loved, was no more.
Losing a job is like being pushed out of a plane at 40,000 feet (however high that is). You go into freefall. You want to scream but you look around and you find that there are lots of planes up there and lots of people being pushed out of them. And the horror on their faces matches yours: Oh god, what am I going to do now???
When you're in employment, everybody says what a good thing a redundancy package is. Its money and its tax free. Well... yes. But its not a job and that money will run out. If you're smart, you'll try and save what have because when that rainy day comes (and we've had quite a few of them) you'll need it. Being in work puts a person on the side of Right. You have a status and You're Making A Positive Contribution To Society. The media and politicians all over are quite happy saying that they working for "the hard working people". There is a whole stigma attached to "people who don't work". It terrified me that I was not one of those people any more. Did that mean that I was not one of those people that David Cameron was going to help?
What people don't talk about is the emotional effect that losing your job can have. It's like a tidal wave, lifting a person up, taking them away by force from everything that they were comfortable with and dropping them in the middle of nowhere. And unless it happens to you, you don't know what it feels like.
For me the most difficult thing I found was that I couldn't write. We're not talking about CV's or application forms here. Those I wrote. In fact I made looking for work a full time job with added hours for evenings and weekends. The new Birmingam Central Library became my second home. I was making my sandwiches the night before as normal and taking a thermos of coffee in the morning. The old Central Library used to be my second home but its becoming a fading memory, like my old job.
When you start looking for work, you have to think, I'll do anything (within reason and within my capabilities.) I can't walk a tightrope in my wheelchair. I can't walk two parallel tightropes because I'm afraid of heights. But I will Do Something.
But I couldn't write. Writing is a passion for me. Actually, well its not. Living in worlds inside my head are a passion as are getting them down on paper. But I had to change that channel, because until I'd found a job I wasn't going to be comfortable with using my keyboard for anything other than writing application forms. I wanted to write, but I couldn't find it in my heart to think about writing.
Every day presented a new challenge because the current climate tells of more people going into free fall. And those are the people that I go up against to find work. These aren't good times that we live in. I found that there is a paradox with looking for work, because whilst employers say that they "are looking for people with skills in", what they're really saying is that "they want people who already have experience of doing ...". And you can't get experience in an area without somebody giving you a job.
But this story will hopefully end optimistically. Because just before Christmas, just before Christmas... I was offered a job. So the next I write, after this, will be my letter of acceptance.
And then maybe 2014 will see my life and my writing move in a different direction.
I hope that your lives have a positive start to the new year as well.
Take care
Joe.
Sunday, 22 September 2013
What books are you reading?
I'm a nosey sod. There, I've said it.
It's true. Whenever I see somebody reading a book, I've got to ask, what are they reading and why?
It's easy to know that if they're using the old style paperback book. But e-readers have come in to our world. And despite me swearing that I'd never use one, I found myself wanting to buy one last year purely because there were a couple of books that I wanted to buy and I didn't want wrist-ache with holding the heavy books.
Neal Stephenson's Reamde was one. At over 1000 pages, the guy knows how to tell a story.
E-readers have revolutionised the way reader's read. And equally the way writer's write. And get published. Some publish their first books for free and then charge a little for subsequent novels. Self publishing is a big thing on Amazaon UK and lots of new writers are blogging and tweeting about how to do it.
But what have you read recently? And what has influenced your choice?
There was controversy about six months as a couple of authors were found to be writing their own reviews. I suppose that's one way of self-promotion!
For me, I love books written in the first person. Add some thrills, a bit of science fiction and a sense of humour and I'm sold.
After numerous false starts I've finally got into the Harry Dresden series by Jim Butcher. Think Harry Potter for adults. Definitely not for children. Read the later ones in the series from the library and bought the earlier ones in the series straight to my Kindle.
Oh, and two about writing: Goals, Motivation and Conflict by Debra Dixon, and The Positively Productive Writer by Simon Whaley. Both were recommended by Nell Dixon, and they're changing the way that I think and plan my writing.
Hopefully the fruits of which you'll see sometime in the near future.
Take care
Joe
It's true. Whenever I see somebody reading a book, I've got to ask, what are they reading and why?
It's easy to know that if they're using the old style paperback book. But e-readers have come in to our world. And despite me swearing that I'd never use one, I found myself wanting to buy one last year purely because there were a couple of books that I wanted to buy and I didn't want wrist-ache with holding the heavy books.
Neal Stephenson's Reamde was one. At over 1000 pages, the guy knows how to tell a story.
E-readers have revolutionised the way reader's read. And equally the way writer's write. And get published. Some publish their first books for free and then charge a little for subsequent novels. Self publishing is a big thing on Amazaon UK and lots of new writers are blogging and tweeting about how to do it.
But what have you read recently? And what has influenced your choice?
There was controversy about six months as a couple of authors were found to be writing their own reviews. I suppose that's one way of self-promotion!
For me, I love books written in the first person. Add some thrills, a bit of science fiction and a sense of humour and I'm sold.
After numerous false starts I've finally got into the Harry Dresden series by Jim Butcher. Think Harry Potter for adults. Definitely not for children. Read the later ones in the series from the library and bought the earlier ones in the series straight to my Kindle.
Oh, and two about writing: Goals, Motivation and Conflict by Debra Dixon, and The Positively Productive Writer by Simon Whaley. Both were recommended by Nell Dixon, and they're changing the way that I think and plan my writing.
Hopefully the fruits of which you'll see sometime in the near future.
Take care
Joe
The Sound of (Almost) Silence.
It's very noisy in my head. Almost like an airport, a train station or a an accident and emergency ward (yep, let's be topical!).
Planes or trains or unwell people are like thoughts that fly through my head. Actually forget the first two metaphors, because the station and the airports (usually and hopefully) know exactly when said train or said plane is going to arrive. There are sophisticated procedures for helping them arrive and letting them go.
The A and E department, however is, yep, more like the thoughts in my head.
Unexpected.
But recently, the thoughts in my head are taking up more of my head space. And the reason for this is that I have slowly having a build up of ear wax. And by Friday morning, the final jigsaw piece was put into place.
It had to be Friday 13th. And I'm not superstitious.
And I was really struggling to hear. But before I go on, let me make one thing clear:
I am not. Deaf.
Being Deaf implies the complete absence of sound. I can hear – just very faintly. It's as if the hearing switch in my head has been turned to 1.5 (if 5 was normal and 10 was deafening). I can just about hear you. If you were talking to me. If you were facing me. If you are in the same room as me. Or on my mobile phone - I have to have my volume turned up, but yep, I can hear you. (Then it doesn't matter which way you are facing.).
Now, in some respects this alters my perceptions, because it has guided me to pay more attention to people's body language – so I've noticed more than I would if I could hear normally. So I've been more aware of that 90% of communication that we do. All of the non-verbal stuff.
And to be fair, I've noticed things about people, that I don't think that I would've picked up on before. For instance, when watching a conversation between two people, I've observed how the second person wasn't listening to what the first person was saying. They just wanted to get their point across.
But it also makes me aware of how much we rely on our senses, and how much we - or at least I – have taken them for granted.
I used to work with a group of visually impaired people to look at the technological aids that are available to help them have a better quality of life. And the group went well. Mostly. (That would be another story).
But as somebody who makes a career out of knowing about equipment to help people have a better quality of life, I also know that there are hearing aids and neck loop systems, etc, for people who have hearing loss (I've been told that that is term that is used now).
But this for me, is (hopefully) a temporary issue, one that hope the ear drops prescribed by my GP will help. If they don't then I'll have to go down the syringing route. Which (not being ironic) sounds scary.
It seems that every day brings me a fresh challenge. This is just another one of those.
Maybe its a Friday the 13th kind of thing.
And I'm still not superstitious.
Take care
Joe
Planes or trains or unwell people are like thoughts that fly through my head. Actually forget the first two metaphors, because the station and the airports (usually and hopefully) know exactly when said train or said plane is going to arrive. There are sophisticated procedures for helping them arrive and letting them go.
The A and E department, however is, yep, more like the thoughts in my head.
Unexpected.
But recently, the thoughts in my head are taking up more of my head space. And the reason for this is that I have slowly having a build up of ear wax. And by Friday morning, the final jigsaw piece was put into place.
It had to be Friday 13th. And I'm not superstitious.
And I was really struggling to hear. But before I go on, let me make one thing clear:
I am not. Deaf.
Being Deaf implies the complete absence of sound. I can hear – just very faintly. It's as if the hearing switch in my head has been turned to 1.5 (if 5 was normal and 10 was deafening). I can just about hear you. If you were talking to me. If you were facing me. If you are in the same room as me. Or on my mobile phone - I have to have my volume turned up, but yep, I can hear you. (Then it doesn't matter which way you are facing.).
Now, in some respects this alters my perceptions, because it has guided me to pay more attention to people's body language – so I've noticed more than I would if I could hear normally. So I've been more aware of that 90% of communication that we do. All of the non-verbal stuff.
And to be fair, I've noticed things about people, that I don't think that I would've picked up on before. For instance, when watching a conversation between two people, I've observed how the second person wasn't listening to what the first person was saying. They just wanted to get their point across.
But it also makes me aware of how much we rely on our senses, and how much we - or at least I – have taken them for granted.
I used to work with a group of visually impaired people to look at the technological aids that are available to help them have a better quality of life. And the group went well. Mostly. (That would be another story).
But as somebody who makes a career out of knowing about equipment to help people have a better quality of life, I also know that there are hearing aids and neck loop systems, etc, for people who have hearing loss (I've been told that that is term that is used now).
But this for me, is (hopefully) a temporary issue, one that hope the ear drops prescribed by my GP will help. If they don't then I'll have to go down the syringing route. Which (not being ironic) sounds scary.
It seems that every day brings me a fresh challenge. This is just another one of those.
Maybe its a Friday the 13th kind of thing.
And I'm still not superstitious.
Take care
Joe
Sunday, 8 September 2013
Its.... ALIVE!!!!!!
After nearly 6 months without having a Intrathecal Baclofen implant. I have recently had one.... implanted. Technical I am a cyborg. Again.
That sounds very science-fiction-y. I am reborn. Sort of.
Readers to the previous entries will know that I have had an implant for the past 22 years - changed every 4-6 years of course (batteries don't last that long). Then in March, not long after my 40th Birthday, I was rushed to hospital with an infection and the implant was removed under emergency surgery. On a Sunday. That's how much of an emergency it was.
From that point in March I was concerned to hear that I would not be "re-implanted" until late August/September (well, I was told that, I think in May). Simply because the doctors wanted to be sure that the infection was gone before I underwent more surgery.
My concern was... how will I cope? After having Baclofen delivered intrathecally (inside the body, straight to where it was needed) for what amounts for over half my life, how would I live without it?
Well, obviously I survived, as I wouldn't be here writing this blog. (and it is me writing the blog - NOT the machine inside me). Although the computer inside me might disagree.
But I'm not Frankenstein's monster, despite the doctors using staples instead of sewing me up. I'm sure that they were sterilised first. They didn't just run back to the office and grab the stapler from the desk. Surely not.
Having an implant after a break of 5 months has changed my perspective on having it. After months of counting down to the surgery, and then having the surgery, I realised that although it was a difficult process, I did cope, although it wasn't without its challenges.
The whole reason for having a Baclofen implant is to improve the Quality of Life of a person.
Mine wasn't lost when the implant was removed in March, but life did certainly have more challenges. Relying upon oral medication was one of the main challenges. Dealing with the effects of taking oral medication was another. But I have to say that as the time grew closer
towards having the implant, I learned to adapt, even cope without it. People with disabilities - indeed all people - (humans) are very good at adapting.
But whilst I was adapting to life without an implant, I wasn't quite the same person that I had been before. Taking the Baclofen medication orally meant that I would have to be ready for the wave of inevitable fatigue that comes with taking the medication. Therefore I timed the dosages so that it would impact on my ability to drive. But yes, I admit it did slow me down at work. But I felt that being at work, I was more productive than not being there.
Now I have a new implant that wave of fatigue no longer hits me, as the dosage is computer controlled and continuous. And very low, because a lot isn't needed at the moment. But a dosage given internally is never the same as the strength of oral dosage, otherwise I probably wouldn't be able to feel my legs!
But for a while it was a strange feeling to have an implant again. Not just on the stretching of my skin, but also the weight of the implant felt strange and heavy. Like something was pressing on my stomach. Which it now is. Plus I have to face the face that there is a a slight raised protrusion on the right side of my stomach, which obviously is more visible when I take my clothes off.
Thankfully I don't do that in public very often.
At the moment, my level of physical activity is low, so my level of spasticity is controlled relatively easily with a low dosage, to the point that the implant needing to be refilled will be nearly 6 months away. As I become more active and start doing silly things like going back to work, that will change.
Whilst there are risks to any surgery, the benefits have paid off and I am part man, part machine. Again. My wholehearted gratitude goes to the relevant NHS staff. They know who they are.
Now I am home, I can spend lots of time reading the whole series of Harry Dresden novels by Jim Butcher. They are wonderful reading. Exciting, intriguing and very funny.
And I want to think about where the Portal is going (I need to revive that). And work on changing the way that I write so that it is more structured and less off-the-cuff. Boy that is a challenge! But a nice one. Not half as painful.
That sounds very science-fiction-y. I am reborn. Sort of.
Readers to the previous entries will know that I have had an implant for the past 22 years - changed every 4-6 years of course (batteries don't last that long). Then in March, not long after my 40th Birthday, I was rushed to hospital with an infection and the implant was removed under emergency surgery. On a Sunday. That's how much of an emergency it was.
From that point in March I was concerned to hear that I would not be "re-implanted" until late August/September (well, I was told that, I think in May). Simply because the doctors wanted to be sure that the infection was gone before I underwent more surgery.
My concern was... how will I cope? After having Baclofen delivered intrathecally (inside the body, straight to where it was needed) for what amounts for over half my life, how would I live without it?
Well, obviously I survived, as I wouldn't be here writing this blog. (and it is me writing the blog - NOT the machine inside me). Although the computer inside me might disagree.
But I'm not Frankenstein's monster, despite the doctors using staples instead of sewing me up. I'm sure that they were sterilised first. They didn't just run back to the office and grab the stapler from the desk. Surely not.
Having an implant after a break of 5 months has changed my perspective on having it. After months of counting down to the surgery, and then having the surgery, I realised that although it was a difficult process, I did cope, although it wasn't without its challenges.
The whole reason for having a Baclofen implant is to improve the Quality of Life of a person.
Mine wasn't lost when the implant was removed in March, but life did certainly have more challenges. Relying upon oral medication was one of the main challenges. Dealing with the effects of taking oral medication was another. But I have to say that as the time grew closer
towards having the implant, I learned to adapt, even cope without it. People with disabilities - indeed all people - (humans) are very good at adapting.
But whilst I was adapting to life without an implant, I wasn't quite the same person that I had been before. Taking the Baclofen medication orally meant that I would have to be ready for the wave of inevitable fatigue that comes with taking the medication. Therefore I timed the dosages so that it would impact on my ability to drive. But yes, I admit it did slow me down at work. But I felt that being at work, I was more productive than not being there.
Now I have a new implant that wave of fatigue no longer hits me, as the dosage is computer controlled and continuous. And very low, because a lot isn't needed at the moment. But a dosage given internally is never the same as the strength of oral dosage, otherwise I probably wouldn't be able to feel my legs!
But for a while it was a strange feeling to have an implant again. Not just on the stretching of my skin, but also the weight of the implant felt strange and heavy. Like something was pressing on my stomach. Which it now is. Plus I have to face the face that there is a a slight raised protrusion on the right side of my stomach, which obviously is more visible when I take my clothes off.
Thankfully I don't do that in public very often.
At the moment, my level of physical activity is low, so my level of spasticity is controlled relatively easily with a low dosage, to the point that the implant needing to be refilled will be nearly 6 months away. As I become more active and start doing silly things like going back to work, that will change.
Whilst there are risks to any surgery, the benefits have paid off and I am part man, part machine. Again. My wholehearted gratitude goes to the relevant NHS staff. They know who they are.
Now I am home, I can spend lots of time reading the whole series of Harry Dresden novels by Jim Butcher. They are wonderful reading. Exciting, intriguing and very funny.
And I want to think about where the Portal is going (I need to revive that). And work on changing the way that I write so that it is more structured and less off-the-cuff. Boy that is a challenge! But a nice one. Not half as painful.
Sunday, 9 June 2013
Ex-Borg
I'm not like you.
I was created by a race called The Borg. They slipped into the planet's atmosphere, created me with a unique set of circumstances and left me here.
I am different. I was born with a disability. From the second that I was born my life became very different to yours.
My disability (because I obviously went to a shop and bought it) is called Cerebral Palsy. It happens at birth and once you have it, you have it for life, not just for Christmas. The important thing for you to know is that you can't catch it. Its not contagious. I'll repeat that for all you frightened people out there: its not contagious. Not contagious in any way. Check with the Government if you don't believe me. Or don't because mostly they're useless. Check with your GP if you really have concerns. The easier option is to believe me. Because you know that I'll always tell you The Truth. I'm that kinda guy.
Cerebral Palsy means that the neural pathways in our brain don't make the same connections that yours do. So things like walking, talking, eating and everything else that is ordinary and easy for you is more challenging for somebody with CP (we love our acronyms). If you want more information about this condition, in case you're weirdly curious, I'd recommend visiting www.scope.org. But do it later, okay? Trust them too. Because I told you that its okay.
One of the many other ways that I'm different from you, is that up until March, I used to be a cyborg. That's right, a cyborg, like The Terminator, except that I didn't go around randomly killing people. When I did, I did so under strict orders. And they were only Very Bad People. I know because They told me.
But I was a cyborg. Part man, part machine.
I had an implant in my stomach. A computerised device which could hold a surprising amount of medicine which fed this medicine to my legs to make them do things like bend and move when I wanted them to. Like yours do. But when the medicine is fed directly where it needs to be, you don't really need to use that much of it.
You see, when you take medication, it doesn't specifically target whatever pain you have (no matter what the ads tell you). The medicine has to go to go right around the body before it gets where it needed to go in the first place. And if you’re taking a muscle relaxant like Baclofen, it takes effect on the whole body, not just the legs where it should be. The implant delivers medicine straight to where it is needed on a finely tuned basis. Because of the laser targeted accuracy (or rather the catheter tube) the drug goes straight to where it is needed. The doctors program all of this into the machine. And tell me who to kill, maim, slap around, etc.
I have had implants for about twenty years. They need changing after about 4 or 5 years, because ironically, the batteries run down, and its not a device where you can remove it, change the batteries and put it back. But over 20 years, its hard to keep track of how many I’ve had. I’ve lost count. Really.
When I had an implant, every couple of months I used to go to hospital have an injection which put the drug into the implant and then it would go from there through a tube called a catheter into my spine where it would do stuff that I used to think was magical and then later took for granted. This, I now know, was a mistake. I regret taking technology for granted which made my life less of a struggle. By extension, I probably took the people who looked after me for granted too. The company that made the implant are called Medtronic. For more about the device see
http://www.medtronic.co.uk/your-health/cerebral-palsy/device/index.htm
Its amazing what medical technology can do. The NHS borrowed all of that stuff from the Intelligence Services and Science Fiction writers. And put it to real use.
By the way, save our NHS, its the only one we've got. And lets start giving them positive feedback, because the only time the medical profession is in the media is when its under fire. And that's not fair.
Sorry, rant over. Back to the blog.
With the implant I could move about easily. I had better posture. I could drive without tension and struggling. I couldn't walk properly, but that was never the aim. The aim was that I would have a better quality of life. I had a better quality of life, despite other crap that I had going on, my physical health was pretty okay.
All of that stopped in March.
In March I developed an infection which meant that the implant had to be removed.
The cause of the infection is still a matter of some debate.
Those hi tech medical experts are able to insert a catheter underneath the skin but wrap it around all the major internal organs. So the implant would be around or near the stomach and the catheter would be wrapped around the body until it gets to the spine. That's where the drugs go to.
But whilst we're praising the ingenuity of the medical profession we have to give credit to the human body. Because that catheter slowly over time becomes part of the body, and flesh grows around it, keeping it secure and keeping it safe from harm. To be honest, just knowing that the human body does stuff like that just plain creeps me out. Its not natural! (Except, in a way, it is.). You human beings are surprisingly adaptive. Disabled people are more so. I've learnt this in the 40 years that I've been on your planet.
Again back to the story. Changing the implants because of the whole battery thing. They weren’t Duracell, but better, because they used to last 4-5 years. The newer implants have batteries that last 6-7 years. They're smart enough to tell the docs when they need changing. But whilst the implant can be fairly easily changed, changing the catheter (the tube that the medicine flows around) is another matter. In some cases the new implant can use the old catheter tubing in place. Therefore the surgeons don't need to put a new one in.
But taking an old catheter tubing out is another matter. Because its now grown to be part of the human body and therefore resists removal (remember the whole thing that creeps me out?). Its not just something that the docs can gently pull out. Because the body kinda gets attached to it.
This is the Borg come to life: resistance is futile.
Four or five or six implants leaves of lots of bits of catheter in the body, no matter how sealed up they are. One theory is that one of those bits of catheter caused the infection.
Another theory is that I have an ongoing skin condition called atopic eczema (I do have all the fun.) Skin infection are common with this condition. A skin infection did start around the implant site and that just spread. I will blog about my life with AE because I feel the need to get that out of my system and share that with the world. But that's another blog.
Both of these are theories. Trying to prove conclusively which was the culprit would be very difficult.
So now that I have no implant how has life been?
Its been a struggle.
I'm understating the fact. Its been a f***ing nightmare.
I don't know how other people with CP (or similar conditions) do it. I really don't. Any of you reading this have answers, please feel free to reply and let me know.
Taking baclofen orally (by mouth) is massively draining and it has effects in waves - the drug washes over you and you feel a wave of tiredness. Over your whole body. God help you if you're driving - or trying to work because when the fatigue hits you all you want to do is rest and sleep.
The sudden loss of the implant has had a major effect on my body. Its gone into shock and sent the atopic eczema into overdrive. Now I'm fighting a battle on two fronts and If I'm honest, I'm losing.
So now that I've given you most of the backstory, we ask the $64,000 question: what happens now?
To answer that: I've got the run down on the options that I have. To save time, I'll tell you what my thoughts are on them as we go along.
1.Do Nothing. This would be the easiest of options except that its been almost 16 weeks since the implant was removed and I'm, if I'm brutally honest, in a living hell. The combined war of eczema and baclofen withdrawal has left my body "in distress" as I described it to my consultant recently.
Her reply was equally as frank. "I'm not surprised". You've had baclofen going through your system for 20 years, did you think that the sudden withdrawal of it wouldn't have any effect on your body?
And she's right (dammit) and the spasms are getting worse, despite the oral baclofen. Especially at night, when its the one time when you want your body to calm down.
In actual fact I tried to "do nothing". I thought hey Spasticity? I've have had before. Lived with it for half my mile. I could cope with this. I could cope with anything. Easy.
However the Eczema going crazy on me, was the second punch I wan't expecting and it floored me.
2. Look for eczema strategies. Well, I'm doing that at the moment and I'm still working on that. The previous solutions which half-worked before are not anymore because of the distress that my body is under. All eczema is is dry skin. So the key strategy to deal with this battle is to moisturise, moisturise, moisturise. And I do. Every two- to three hours. And each session takes nearly an hour. Moisturising gives my skin some relief but it also makes my hands really greasy. So you're buggered if you use a wheelchair (which I do), and I have to be careful when driving my car because my hands are slippery and my car has hand controls.
Eczema is worse at night because that is when the body generates the most heat. And there have been 96 nights since my operation. Every night is a nightmare. I'm not joking about that one.
So I'm taking medications to help me sleep. Because I can no longer just lie down and go to sleep like normal people. Not anymore. Antihistamines which are supposed to have a side effect of making a person feel drowsy. Not me. Not anymore.
Therefore I'm having to take quite drastic measures (and I don't mean a hot cup of cocoa!) to go to bed and get some rest. And that only works for about 4 hours before I have to get up again. I'm even trying alternative medicine. But all of them are quite expensive, all of them tell me that it can be done and that it will be a slow process.
3. Have the implant put back in. I've a tentative date for September, but to be honest, I'm pushing for for it to be as early as possible, because I'm living every day on an rollercoaster that is half in the sea. I don't know how I will be from one day to be next. I'm in my third week of being off sick (I drive my car intermittently) and I'm giving thought to having another week off (not really a choice, but not much option either).
Bottom line, is that I'm struggling like never before - except before when I had the pump in over 20 years ago. Then I was in a lot of physical pain. Now the agony is different. I was a different person then.
I'm not the person I was. My life has undergone a massive change, and I've written before about change: when it happens suddenly and out of our control we don't react too well.
So, 16 weeks on, am I improving? I don't think I can answer that because honestly I can't tell. I know that some days are better than others. I also know that there are days where I don't know where to hide. I can't hide from my body.
All I can do is take things one step and a time and make the most of every day.
Take care
Joe.
RIP Iain Banks - 09/06/2013
The news that I'd been silently dreading has happened.
My favourite author, Iain (M) Banks has passed away.
This is a sad day for the literary world. A sad day for readers everywhere.
All readers think that their authors write for them and them alone. Its a special connection that I don't think really happens with film or any other art. Its a personal connection. I used to go to the Library Theatre in Birmingham to hear him speak and there must have been at least 200 people in the audience thinking that this wonderful, witty and charming man was speaking to them and them alone.
Sad man that I am, I've just downloaded a couple of my favourite Iain Banks books onto my Kindle - even though I've got them in paperback and hardback. Including and especially Against A Dark Background.
Iain might have thought this was amusing. I hope so.
Even though I don't drink Iain, I will raise a glass and salute you. Thank you for your time with us and more importantly, with me. I have enjoyed many hours reading your books. I shall enjoy many more reading them again and again.
Peace be with you my friend. Wherever you are.
Joe.
My favourite author, Iain (M) Banks has passed away.
This is a sad day for the literary world. A sad day for readers everywhere.
All readers think that their authors write for them and them alone. Its a special connection that I don't think really happens with film or any other art. Its a personal connection. I used to go to the Library Theatre in Birmingham to hear him speak and there must have been at least 200 people in the audience thinking that this wonderful, witty and charming man was speaking to them and them alone.
Sad man that I am, I've just downloaded a couple of my favourite Iain Banks books onto my Kindle - even though I've got them in paperback and hardback. Including and especially Against A Dark Background.
Iain might have thought this was amusing. I hope so.
Even though I don't drink Iain, I will raise a glass and salute you. Thank you for your time with us and more importantly, with me. I have enjoyed many hours reading your books. I shall enjoy many more reading them again and again.
Peace be with you my friend. Wherever you are.
Joe.
Thursday, 4 April 2013
Letter to Iain Banks
Dear Iain,
Firstly, congratulations on your wedding, I am hoping that you are having a wonderful honeymoon.
Secondly, I need to tell you how saddened I was to hear the news yesterday. We have actually met three times when you did book signings in Birmingham Library Theatre (Inversions which you did with Ken MacLeod, Look To Windward, and most recently Surface Detail, where you very kindly had a photograph taken with myself and my best friend Andrew). I wish that I could send you that photo as a reminder as it is a cherished memory for me. I will be putting this on my blog, as well as photographs from that event.
Thirdly I need to thank you. You have taken me on many amazing journeys, some in Scotland with Prentice McHoan whose grandmother's pacemaker exploded, some in Great Britain, around the world with Kate Telman, and across Time, the Universe, and multiple galaxies especially with Lady Sharrow - who I remember telling you once is my favourite character. And i didn't have to pay travel fair (but I guess that the cost of the books may count - a minor issue, considering the journeys and the company. (Network Rail - take note).
Iain, every reader must feel a special connection with you, as I do from reading your books (reading them again now will be a different journey.) I did want to write to say thank you, not only for the long, exciting and sometimes scary journeys that I have been on with you, but also for the wonderful talks that you have given over the years. I will be putting this on my blog as well as the photograph that we took with you and of the event.
I do hope that every day brings you and Adele as much joy and happiness as you have given to us all.
Thank you once again, my friend.
Navinder
Firstly, congratulations on your wedding, I am hoping that you are having a wonderful honeymoon.
Secondly, I need to tell you how saddened I was to hear the news yesterday. We have actually met three times when you did book signings in Birmingham Library Theatre (Inversions which you did with Ken MacLeod, Look To Windward, and most recently Surface Detail, where you very kindly had a photograph taken with myself and my best friend Andrew). I wish that I could send you that photo as a reminder as it is a cherished memory for me. I will be putting this on my blog, as well as photographs from that event.
Thirdly I need to thank you. You have taken me on many amazing journeys, some in Scotland with Prentice McHoan whose grandmother's pacemaker exploded, some in Great Britain, around the world with Kate Telman, and across Time, the Universe, and multiple galaxies especially with Lady Sharrow - who I remember telling you once is my favourite character. And i didn't have to pay travel fair (but I guess that the cost of the books may count - a minor issue, considering the journeys and the company. (Network Rail - take note).
Iain, every reader must feel a special connection with you, as I do from reading your books (reading them again now will be a different journey.) I did want to write to say thank you, not only for the long, exciting and sometimes scary journeys that I have been on with you, but also for the wonderful talks that you have given over the years. I will be putting this on my blog as well as the photograph that we took with you and of the event.
I do hope that every day brings you and Adele as much joy and happiness as you have given to us all.
Thank you once again, my friend.
Navinder
Tuesday, 1 January 2013
Day by day.
Day by day.
The crossover from 2012 to 2013 was a difficult one for me.
In late August last year a very good and close friend of mine died. It was very sudden and I have been left reeling with the shock. He was a month away from his 40th birthday and I was very much looking forward to celebrating it with him as he is/was barely six months older than me, and I had known him for nearly 30 years.
When someone close to you dies you know that your life is never going to be the same again, and I was shaken by this fact that all life should never be taken for granted.
Which, I guess, I did.
We live under a false illusion that we are all going to live until we are old and so are the people that we know and care about.
After he died I very much wanted Time to stop moving. Because every second that Time moved forward was Time that was taking me further away from the point that he was alive.
Coping with a death isn’t easy. Its an unwanted change on our lives and I wrote about Change yesterday. In 2012.
Unlike the kind of Change I wrote about previously, we have no control over this one. It just happens – often without any kind of warning – and we are left with the fallout. The person who we thought would be there forever are suddenly gone and we have to deal with the emotion left by this harsh separation.
The thing about Life is that it doesn’t ever stop. It’s relentless and will always move forward and sometimes we have to adjust.
Like the Change that I was writing about, this isn’t easy. You have my permission to ignore anybody who tells you that you have to “move on”. That “life goes on”. I want to write that you can slap them because I’m sure that that would be how you really feel, but I don’t condone violence and can’t have you going around slapping people because I said so. That would be wrong. Do not hurt people, okay?
When a young person dies its even harder because often the parents are still alive. No parent should have to bury their child. Its something that I can’t imagine and yet I see the parents of my friend, and they have had to do this.
To mark the New Year I went to see my friend at the Cemetery today, as I have done before. I haven’t got used to this and don’t know if I ever will. But at least I have somewhere to go to see him. To talk to him, because having that outlet, that ability to communicate whatever we feel, is absolutely essential to maintain stable emotional health.
Yes we do need to let go, and move forwards, but we need to do this at a pace that suits us. We need to be able to communicate how we feel to people who will be patient and listen without emotion. Sometimes the we people that we see everyday don’t have the patience to do this. There are lots of places that can provide bereavement counselling, and if you are ever feeling low after a bereavement I would recommend this.
You do not “get over” a loss, but it is possible to come to terms with it. Talking about it ALWAYS helps. You are never alone. And be aware that this process takes time. It will take as long as it takes. Cherish memories of the past but also make sure that you don’t ignore the present, because you are important too. Learn to live your life. Day by day.
Take care and have a happy 2013.
Joe.
The crossover from 2012 to 2013 was a difficult one for me.
In late August last year a very good and close friend of mine died. It was very sudden and I have been left reeling with the shock. He was a month away from his 40th birthday and I was very much looking forward to celebrating it with him as he is/was barely six months older than me, and I had known him for nearly 30 years.
When someone close to you dies you know that your life is never going to be the same again, and I was shaken by this fact that all life should never be taken for granted.
Which, I guess, I did.
We live under a false illusion that we are all going to live until we are old and so are the people that we know and care about.
After he died I very much wanted Time to stop moving. Because every second that Time moved forward was Time that was taking me further away from the point that he was alive.
Coping with a death isn’t easy. Its an unwanted change on our lives and I wrote about Change yesterday. In 2012.
Unlike the kind of Change I wrote about previously, we have no control over this one. It just happens – often without any kind of warning – and we are left with the fallout. The person who we thought would be there forever are suddenly gone and we have to deal with the emotion left by this harsh separation.
The thing about Life is that it doesn’t ever stop. It’s relentless and will always move forward and sometimes we have to adjust.
Like the Change that I was writing about, this isn’t easy. You have my permission to ignore anybody who tells you that you have to “move on”. That “life goes on”. I want to write that you can slap them because I’m sure that that would be how you really feel, but I don’t condone violence and can’t have you going around slapping people because I said so. That would be wrong. Do not hurt people, okay?
When a young person dies its even harder because often the parents are still alive. No parent should have to bury their child. Its something that I can’t imagine and yet I see the parents of my friend, and they have had to do this.
To mark the New Year I went to see my friend at the Cemetery today, as I have done before. I haven’t got used to this and don’t know if I ever will. But at least I have somewhere to go to see him. To talk to him, because having that outlet, that ability to communicate whatever we feel, is absolutely essential to maintain stable emotional health.
Yes we do need to let go, and move forwards, but we need to do this at a pace that suits us. We need to be able to communicate how we feel to people who will be patient and listen without emotion. Sometimes the we people that we see everyday don’t have the patience to do this. There are lots of places that can provide bereavement counselling, and if you are ever feeling low after a bereavement I would recommend this.
You do not “get over” a loss, but it is possible to come to terms with it. Talking about it ALWAYS helps. You are never alone. And be aware that this process takes time. It will take as long as it takes. Cherish memories of the past but also make sure that you don’t ignore the present, because you are important too. Learn to live your life. Day by day.
Take care and have a happy 2013.
Joe.
Monday, 31 December 2012
Change
Hi,
I've been away for a while Now I'm back.
At the time of writing, I’ll be saying farewell to 2012 and hello, how are you to 2013.
Usually at this time, people make resolutions for the coming year, myself included.
More often than not these resolutions are about change. Something that a person wants to change about themselves.
The thing about change is that its inevitable. It happens throughout your life and more often than not, its something that we don’t have control over. And invariably, things that we don’t have control over, are things that we don’t like.
We, generally speaking, like control. We like to feel that we are in control of things. This gives us a sense of security and comfort: two things which are important for emotional wellbeing.
Change is sleeping alone in unfamiliar territory. The first time that we try it, we’re on edge because we’re far away from our comfort zone and all the things that we felt comfortable about are often calling us back, it’s safer being back here.
Yes, it is. Its safer being in that comfort zone. But at one point the comfort zone where you are now was once scary and uncomfortable and you became accustomed to it. And comfortable with it. So you know that you can cope with change. Because you did it before.
So you’re sitting here thinking about the resolutions that you want to make and often they include behaviours that you want to change: either habits that you want to stop, eg stop smoking, or habits that you want to acquire, eg going to a gym.
Now while you’re thinking about making these resolutions there are a couple of things that you have to know about change.
1. They’re scary.
2. Its difficult.
3. You can do it.
The first two are really important to acknowledge. Change is scary and difficult. We don’t like it because it means moving away from what we already know and feel comfortable with to things that we don’t know and can unnerve us. If it was easy we’d do it all the time.
The last point is a mantra – its something that you have to tell yourself. Change is possible but you have to believe that you can do it. Self-belief will get you three-quarters across. Positive encouragement from others will help the rest of the way.
So now you’ve made that resolution and you know that you’re committed to making that change, how do you go about it?
Here are some suggestions:
Make small changes. Nobody has ever said that you have to make that massive change all in one go. Set small achievable targets. Easy ones. And once you’ve met them, raise the bar a little. And a little more. And a little more.
Don’t make the changes alone. Eg, if you want to join a gym, do it with a friend. Or tell people about it and they can encourage you. Use Twitter, its anonymous. Just ignore all the negative sods. Set a routine and you can provide positive encouragement to each other.
Change is inevitable. Its scary and most of all, its part of life. Its one of the few things that we can count on happening in our lives. So, make your resolutions and put them into effect.
Happy New Year.
Monday, 30 July 2012
Sudden Impact
In mid July, I was involved in a car accident.
It was mid afternoon. Dry weather, no rain. I was crossing a busy road, cutting straight across. I was in my car, not, thankfully on foot. I would not be here writing if I was on foot, or rather, in my wheelchair.
I saw a clear gap, and made my move to cross. I was three quarters of the way across when my car was hit. The sound of one car hitting another is one of the most distinctive sounds in the world. I've heard it before and I didn't expect to hear it again.
Near misses happen all of the time. Every day, every hour, every minute, somebody has a near miss. Both parties might be shaken for a second, then life takes over and they move on. But sometimes people aren't so lucky, and its not a near miss.
A witness - one of my closest friends - said that the other driver was speeding.
He must have been, because I saw the gap as clear. I don't remember. I felt his car slam into mine and then may half a second later the airbags went off. Exploded in my face. I didn't know what the hell that was. I know now. But I felt like my own car was punishing me for being hit.
I was hit. Well, my car was. On the passenger's side.
I've put it that way deliberately. I was hit. I thank whatever gods are out there that my girlfriend was not in the car at the time. I was glad she wasn't in the car. That fear chills me. I would have failed to keep her safe. And had she been hurt I don't think that I would ever have forgiven myself.
I have - or had - a Honda Civic - one of the old types, not the new futuristic ones. I chose it because I found that I could get my chair into the car without too much difficulty. I also thank my brother-in-law for insisting that I get a car with a high safety rating. I thought that he was being picky at the time. Maybe not so picky, after all. When you get hit at speeds of over 40 mph side on, its your car that gets the whack. But its your spirit that feels the bruises.
Whatever frame they put around the car, it was solid. I'm going to be writing to Honda and NCAP for keeping me alive. It might sound small and unneccessary, but its important to me.
Accidents happen, so the saying goes. That's why we have insurance. The people who say that don't know how soul destroying motor insurance companies are. Especially when you make a claim.
After the accident, I was sitting in my chair on the pavement, waiting for the RAC to pick the car up and take it to the garage. I don't remember being forceful with the paramedic to say that I was okay and I didn't need to go to hospital. To say that I was in shock was an understatement. Its human nature for people to slow down and look and the smashed up cars as they drive by. People want to know about the misfortunes of others. Its annoying and depressing and the stare and assess and make conclusions. But, sitting here now, I know that its human nature. Maybe those people are just glad that its not them, I don't know.
I didn't need to go to hospital. I was in shock yes, but not physically hurt. I had a lot of stuff going on, disability-wise, and I had only been at the hospital a few hours before. But I was okay. More or less. I think that I didn't want to leave my car. I don't know if I thought it then, but I definitely had that thought at night, before I went to bed. I am used to knowing that outside my bedroom window, on the driveway, my car sits there.
Here's the thing about accidents. They're normal and they happen. My rational mind knows this. You don't ever contemplate that they're going to happen to you.
The other part of me.... the other part of me now feels vulnerable, and exposed. My car was hit, and damaged to the extent that it was not financially viable to repair. Whilst it was my car was hit, I know that for the past few weeks, I've been feeling winded and stunned.
Now I should be grateful. Nobody was hurt. I have a wounded sense of self, but "the main thing is that the only damage was to the car". Those people are trying to be helpful, but the words sound oddly hollow to me.
But a car to me represents a control over my life. An independence, that I'd never understood or appreciated until it was taken away by force. I'm trying to nail down exactly what's going on with me. And I think that its the sudden change. No, the sudden impact on my life. In my world.
A couple of weeks on and I have a new second car car. Again, a Civic, but a couple of years old than the one I had before. And this one is silver, as opposed to black as my old one was.
I sat behind the wheel of my "new" car over the weekend.. It's dashboard, is almost the same, but certain dials are different colours. I'm glad for the difference. I think that its the small things that are going to keep me sane.
It represents a return to independence, or normality, whatever that is. Maybe a step forwards away from a difficult episode. As I write this, I anticipate sitting behind the wheel again. It will not be my first time since the accident. I drove a courtesy car for five days after the accident and because there were a few differences wtih the hand controls and the car, I was very.... anxious? no, a little highly strung would be more accurate. I had only just come away from one accident and had no desire to be in another. Yes, MoreTh>n were good enough to get me a car with hand controls. They came up with the goods, surprisingly. For a while.
"As long as you're not hurt..." that's what they say.
I tell myself that its going to take time, for my mind to move forward. it won't happen overnight. One step forwards.
One day at a time.
It was mid afternoon. Dry weather, no rain. I was crossing a busy road, cutting straight across. I was in my car, not, thankfully on foot. I would not be here writing if I was on foot, or rather, in my wheelchair.
I saw a clear gap, and made my move to cross. I was three quarters of the way across when my car was hit. The sound of one car hitting another is one of the most distinctive sounds in the world. I've heard it before and I didn't expect to hear it again.
Near misses happen all of the time. Every day, every hour, every minute, somebody has a near miss. Both parties might be shaken for a second, then life takes over and they move on. But sometimes people aren't so lucky, and its not a near miss.
A witness - one of my closest friends - said that the other driver was speeding.
He must have been, because I saw the gap as clear. I don't remember. I felt his car slam into mine and then may half a second later the airbags went off. Exploded in my face. I didn't know what the hell that was. I know now. But I felt like my own car was punishing me for being hit.
I was hit. Well, my car was. On the passenger's side.
I've put it that way deliberately. I was hit. I thank whatever gods are out there that my girlfriend was not in the car at the time. I was glad she wasn't in the car. That fear chills me. I would have failed to keep her safe. And had she been hurt I don't think that I would ever have forgiven myself.
I have - or had - a Honda Civic - one of the old types, not the new futuristic ones. I chose it because I found that I could get my chair into the car without too much difficulty. I also thank my brother-in-law for insisting that I get a car with a high safety rating. I thought that he was being picky at the time. Maybe not so picky, after all. When you get hit at speeds of over 40 mph side on, its your car that gets the whack. But its your spirit that feels the bruises.
Whatever frame they put around the car, it was solid. I'm going to be writing to Honda and NCAP for keeping me alive. It might sound small and unneccessary, but its important to me.
Accidents happen, so the saying goes. That's why we have insurance. The people who say that don't know how soul destroying motor insurance companies are. Especially when you make a claim.
After the accident, I was sitting in my chair on the pavement, waiting for the RAC to pick the car up and take it to the garage. I don't remember being forceful with the paramedic to say that I was okay and I didn't need to go to hospital. To say that I was in shock was an understatement. Its human nature for people to slow down and look and the smashed up cars as they drive by. People want to know about the misfortunes of others. Its annoying and depressing and the stare and assess and make conclusions. But, sitting here now, I know that its human nature. Maybe those people are just glad that its not them, I don't know.
I didn't need to go to hospital. I was in shock yes, but not physically hurt. I had a lot of stuff going on, disability-wise, and I had only been at the hospital a few hours before. But I was okay. More or less. I think that I didn't want to leave my car. I don't know if I thought it then, but I definitely had that thought at night, before I went to bed. I am used to knowing that outside my bedroom window, on the driveway, my car sits there.
Here's the thing about accidents. They're normal and they happen. My rational mind knows this. You don't ever contemplate that they're going to happen to you.
The other part of me.... the other part of me now feels vulnerable, and exposed. My car was hit, and damaged to the extent that it was not financially viable to repair. Whilst it was my car was hit, I know that for the past few weeks, I've been feeling winded and stunned.
Now I should be grateful. Nobody was hurt. I have a wounded sense of self, but "the main thing is that the only damage was to the car". Those people are trying to be helpful, but the words sound oddly hollow to me.
But a car to me represents a control over my life. An independence, that I'd never understood or appreciated until it was taken away by force. I'm trying to nail down exactly what's going on with me. And I think that its the sudden change. No, the sudden impact on my life. In my world.
A couple of weeks on and I have a new second car car. Again, a Civic, but a couple of years old than the one I had before. And this one is silver, as opposed to black as my old one was.
I sat behind the wheel of my "new" car over the weekend.. It's dashboard, is almost the same, but certain dials are different colours. I'm glad for the difference. I think that its the small things that are going to keep me sane.
It represents a return to independence, or normality, whatever that is. Maybe a step forwards away from a difficult episode. As I write this, I anticipate sitting behind the wheel again. It will not be my first time since the accident. I drove a courtesy car for five days after the accident and because there were a few differences wtih the hand controls and the car, I was very.... anxious? no, a little highly strung would be more accurate. I had only just come away from one accident and had no desire to be in another. Yes, MoreTh>n were good enough to get me a car with hand controls. They came up with the goods, surprisingly. For a while.
"As long as you're not hurt..." that's what they say.
I tell myself that its going to take time, for my mind to move forward. it won't happen overnight. One step forwards.
One day at a time.
Sunday, 15 January 2012
Portal. Part 3
Author's note: This is part 3 in a series. I would recommend that you check the blog history to read Parts 1 and 2 first. All comments graciously welcomed!
file 2:
portal 3:
I woke up with a start. Where the hell am I today? Travelling is hell because there's no sense of continuity. I know that most people crave the ability to "just get away from it all." Spend enough time doing that and all that you find yourself doing is "getting away" and that at some point you can't even remember what you were getting away from in the first place.
Then the memories come back with a flood and as usual, I was left feeling drained and washed out. I didn't know that I'd fallen asleep, but there you go. Falling through the cracks in the universes can just leave you messed up.
My second thought was that I wished that I had a watch.
Watches are cool. They could have all kinds of funky gizmos on them: a tiny light, some of them had compasses (which was only good, I found out, if you were on a planet called Earth - if you weren't those things just went crazy). But the most important thing that a watch could do, I found, was tell the time.
I would know what time it was. Whether or not it would be relevant, or even accurate, on this planet was something that I didn't know. Until I'd been on Earth I didn't know that such a thing existed. When I did, I don't know how we lived without them. Oh, we knew that time would pass, but we had no way to mark it.
But I guessed that it was past midnight, or at least what passed for midnight here. The temperature had dropped considerably. The fire was still going, but only just. Michelle was still awake, tending to the fire, I saw.
The campfire was in a wide clearing. At some point I had moved away from the group, to sit on the ground and lean against a tree for support. I just needed to be away from the heat and the light for a while. And the people. Definitely away from the people.
Most of Kadir's men were asleep, but one or two were awake and walking around. Guarding us.
"You're awake." said a voice "Finally."
I sat up.
Xira looked down at me, silhouetted against the firelight.
"Took a long while until we... you know... were alone again."
"I don't want to be alone with you. Ever. Again."
"Come on, after all that we've meant to each other?"
"Xira, I thought that I was rid of you. That you were gone from my life."
"I know." She dropped into a crouch beside me. "And yet here I am. Funny how things work out, isn't it?"
"F**ing hilarious." I said.
"Now now. Language language."
I sighed.
"What do you want?"
"I want to be off this rock. Hurry up, will you?"
"What makes you think that I'm going to let you come with me?"
"What, you're not going to let me stay here are you? With your family?"
They're not my family, I thought, and was surprised by this.
"Oh come on Ray. You know that you need me and that you were going to have to get me sooner or later don't you?" she left that one there for a minute "We both know that you need me to get the princess back. After all, how else are you going to get the Crysanteum?"
"Is that what you believe? That I can't do this without you?" I asked "Believe what you want. I'm not responsible for your beliefs. Or you."
I slowly got to my feet. Lying on a cold hard ground? Not a good idea. I wouldn't recommend it. My body was stiff and aching and tired and I was seriously fucked off. All I ever wanted to be was Home and now that I was here, I wanted to be Someplace Else.
"I've got to rescue my brother." I said. "From a big ugly dangerous demon." I took a deep breath, hoping that it would kick start the circulation in my body. "I'm glad I'm here because I've got a score to settle and I might die in the process. But if I do I plan on taking it with me. Now if we survive that," I said "We'll talk about you coming with me. Not before."
I deliberately walked away. I was acutely aware that she had two handguns stashed away on her. If she wanted to, she could kill me. But if she did that, she'd be stuck here forever.
You're home, a voice said in my head, you should be happy.
But "home", I realised, was a memory. One which told me that I had been happy whilst I was there.
Home. Where the heart belongs.
But I couldn't bring myself to feel happy to be home. Ever since.... Ever since... I'd been on the move, unconsciously keeping so busy that I'd kept parts of my life at bay. Home. With family. Hmmm.
For those of you who are keeping score I wasn't doing very well in the family stakes. One brother was dead. Another had been kidnapped and the other was...where?
Kadir, where are you?
Below the firelight of the campfire lay the darkness of the forest. The forest itself finished off any night vision that they campfire-light had killed, but I could not bring myself to the notion of letting the fire die.
Kadir, where are you?
The thought that I might have lost yet another brother tugged at my conscience at me but I needed more facts before I let my mind confirm that one.
I could not believe it. I would not believe it.
I walked the circumference of the clearing. Nothing. I talked to the people on watch. Nothing.
Then I talked to Michelle.
"He's safe." She said.
"Safe?" I echoed "Safe where?"
"He said...that he needed to be on his own. He needed to talk to the spirits to seek their guidance."
Spirits???
"How long has he been doing this?"
"He was doing this when I first met him. He would come back knowing what to do. I know that he's safe. I can feel it."
I stood up and headed back out. I still didn't know what time it was and that thought annoyed me, because I couldn't tell how long he'd been gone.
"You have to relax and have patience." Michelle said. "Worrying will do you no good."
Eventually he came back from the shadows. He stopped at the periphery and then walked directly over to me.
"You're still awake." he said.
"Yes." I didn't know who I was more annoyed at: him before being gone, or me for worrying about him. "I'm not the only one it seems." I said.
"I'm thinking about our plan of attack."
"And?"
"And maybe its better if we don't."
"Don't what?"
"Attack."
"So what are you thinking, have a chat?"
"No, making a bargain."
"A bargain? What have we got to bargain with?"
But even as I asked the question I thought that I knew the answer. Like father....
Kadir paused "We need to find out what he wants. And then we need to give him what he wants without all of us dying in the process."
"What could we possibly have that he wants?" I asked out loud.
"The important thing would be that we're talking to him." said Kadir. "If we're talking then surely he's not killing us? We have to consider all options."
I'd heard that line before. The problem was that I knew Aashen better than Kadir did.
Now instead of thinking of things not to say, I realised that I hadn't thought about Home for such a long time. Not in that way, anyway. My association with Home was linked with Aashen and I think that was because I'd failed in my attempt to remove him from the world.
When I thought of Aashen I thought of Leshka, and I realised that I'd been trying to avoid thinking of Leshka, because those memories were painful. Away from here, they seemed like a different world, like those memories belonged to someone else, not me. But being back made my throat tighten and I felt like I was being suffocated.
But Aashen wasn't really a talker. He would keep discussing things with you, right up until the moment he killed you.
I had seen him do it before.
I didn't know about other demons. Maybe they were more receptive to work with other beings.
Although the campfire was still burning, I could feel the temperature dropping.
"You're quiet." he said at last. "You don't approve?"
"I didn't say that." I said "But I think that if he wanted to talk, he has had plenty of opportunity to do so."
Kadir watched me, thinking. He was going to say it. It had taken him long enough. The very second that I had seen him - and found out where we were - I knew that I would be having this conversation.
"You know, when I saw you fall from the mountain I thought you were dead."
I didn't say anything.
"Well, at first we all thought that you were dead." Kadir sat down on one of the logs near the dying fire. "But Father said that it was possible that you had ... travelled." He sat quietly for a moment, probably, I thought, reliving the moments. "We couldn't find a body. Your body."
Kadir turned to head back to the warmth of the campfire. I watched him walk away and could almost hear the thoughts flowing through his mind.
He turned, almost slowly. "Now that you're here, alive and well after all this time, it proves that Father was right. That you did travel." He took a step forward towards me. "I'm not asking how you did it. " Another step. "I'm not even asking where you were." Another step. "I'm asking why you came back now."
"Does it matter?" I asked, evasively. "I'm here. Isn't that the important part?"
"Will, will you leave again?"
I nodded.
"When?"
"When Anteya is safe."
He seemed to consider this.
"Its difficult keeping the peace." He said, after a moment's silence. "The outlands have over 50 villages now. The further we branch out the more we see of the sacred zones where the demons walk. The Imperial Guard does not leave City walls unless to go to war. They will not fend for us. So we have to fend for ourselves."
"Why are you telling me this?"
There was a long silence and I had a feeling of dread that I hadn't felt for a very long time.
"I didn't do this for me." he began.
"Do what?"
Silence.
"Do what?" I repeated.
"I did what I was told to do." said Kadir in a surprisingly small voice.
"Kadir," I could feel myself losing patience now. This was beginning to feel to familiar. I knew where this was going. I was just hoping that I was wrong. "what were you told to do."
"Make a deal for the greater good."
"And that means?"
I didn't think that he heard the tone of my voice.
"Exchange the Traveller for our safety."
There. He'd said it.
"Oh you stupid, stupid..." at that point I was lost for words but it didn't really matter, because I gave him a right jab which lined him up for the left-handed knockout.
Wham!
And despite the blood rushing to my ears, I was conscious of a click behind me
(should have checked behind you, Ray)
(silly mistake)
because that was why Kadir had made sure that he had my full attention...
(it's over)
BANG.
I stiffened automatically tensing myslf for the bullet that never came.
"He's down." said Xira behind me. "I didn't kill him." she added defensively.
I turned slowly as my back was still half-expecting a bullet.
Xira stood there. Two guns in two hands. One covering the downed guard, the other covering the group near the campfire who were scrambling to their feet having heard the gunshot.
I turned back to look at Kadir who was crumpled on the ground happily for me bathed in darkness as he was on the wrong side of the firelight.
"You just knocked your brother out."
"Yes."
"I mean, you knocked him out."
"Yes."
"But.... but.... he's your brother..."
I wanted to say something dry, but words were failing me. In the end, I thought that silence was the best answer.
"So what are we going to do now?" Xira asked.
"Rescue Anteya, fight the demon and save the day."
"In that order?"
"Yeah, why not?"
to be continued.....
Copyright 2012. All rights reserved by the author.
file 2:
portal 3:
I woke up with a start. Where the hell am I today? Travelling is hell because there's no sense of continuity. I know that most people crave the ability to "just get away from it all." Spend enough time doing that and all that you find yourself doing is "getting away" and that at some point you can't even remember what you were getting away from in the first place.
Then the memories come back with a flood and as usual, I was left feeling drained and washed out. I didn't know that I'd fallen asleep, but there you go. Falling through the cracks in the universes can just leave you messed up.
My second thought was that I wished that I had a watch.
Watches are cool. They could have all kinds of funky gizmos on them: a tiny light, some of them had compasses (which was only good, I found out, if you were on a planet called Earth - if you weren't those things just went crazy). But the most important thing that a watch could do, I found, was tell the time.
I would know what time it was. Whether or not it would be relevant, or even accurate, on this planet was something that I didn't know. Until I'd been on Earth I didn't know that such a thing existed. When I did, I don't know how we lived without them. Oh, we knew that time would pass, but we had no way to mark it.
But I guessed that it was past midnight, or at least what passed for midnight here. The temperature had dropped considerably. The fire was still going, but only just. Michelle was still awake, tending to the fire, I saw.
The campfire was in a wide clearing. At some point I had moved away from the group, to sit on the ground and lean against a tree for support. I just needed to be away from the heat and the light for a while. And the people. Definitely away from the people.
Most of Kadir's men were asleep, but one or two were awake and walking around. Guarding us.
"You're awake." said a voice "Finally."
I sat up.
Xira looked down at me, silhouetted against the firelight.
"Took a long while until we... you know... were alone again."
"I don't want to be alone with you. Ever. Again."
"Come on, after all that we've meant to each other?"
"Xira, I thought that I was rid of you. That you were gone from my life."
"I know." She dropped into a crouch beside me. "And yet here I am. Funny how things work out, isn't it?"
"F**ing hilarious." I said.
"Now now. Language language."
I sighed.
"What do you want?"
"I want to be off this rock. Hurry up, will you?"
"What makes you think that I'm going to let you come with me?"
"What, you're not going to let me stay here are you? With your family?"
They're not my family, I thought, and was surprised by this.
"Oh come on Ray. You know that you need me and that you were going to have to get me sooner or later don't you?" she left that one there for a minute "We both know that you need me to get the princess back. After all, how else are you going to get the Crysanteum?"
"Is that what you believe? That I can't do this without you?" I asked "Believe what you want. I'm not responsible for your beliefs. Or you."
I slowly got to my feet. Lying on a cold hard ground? Not a good idea. I wouldn't recommend it. My body was stiff and aching and tired and I was seriously fucked off. All I ever wanted to be was Home and now that I was here, I wanted to be Someplace Else.
"I've got to rescue my brother." I said. "From a big ugly dangerous demon." I took a deep breath, hoping that it would kick start the circulation in my body. "I'm glad I'm here because I've got a score to settle and I might die in the process. But if I do I plan on taking it with me. Now if we survive that," I said "We'll talk about you coming with me. Not before."
I deliberately walked away. I was acutely aware that she had two handguns stashed away on her. If she wanted to, she could kill me. But if she did that, she'd be stuck here forever.
You're home, a voice said in my head, you should be happy.
But "home", I realised, was a memory. One which told me that I had been happy whilst I was there.
Home. Where the heart belongs.
But I couldn't bring myself to feel happy to be home. Ever since.... Ever since... I'd been on the move, unconsciously keeping so busy that I'd kept parts of my life at bay. Home. With family. Hmmm.
For those of you who are keeping score I wasn't doing very well in the family stakes. One brother was dead. Another had been kidnapped and the other was...where?
Kadir, where are you?
Below the firelight of the campfire lay the darkness of the forest. The forest itself finished off any night vision that they campfire-light had killed, but I could not bring myself to the notion of letting the fire die.
Kadir, where are you?
The thought that I might have lost yet another brother tugged at my conscience at me but I needed more facts before I let my mind confirm that one.
I could not believe it. I would not believe it.
I walked the circumference of the clearing. Nothing. I talked to the people on watch. Nothing.
Then I talked to Michelle.
"He's safe." She said.
"Safe?" I echoed "Safe where?"
"He said...that he needed to be on his own. He needed to talk to the spirits to seek their guidance."
Spirits???
"How long has he been doing this?"
"He was doing this when I first met him. He would come back knowing what to do. I know that he's safe. I can feel it."
I stood up and headed back out. I still didn't know what time it was and that thought annoyed me, because I couldn't tell how long he'd been gone.
"You have to relax and have patience." Michelle said. "Worrying will do you no good."
Eventually he came back from the shadows. He stopped at the periphery and then walked directly over to me.
"You're still awake." he said.
"Yes." I didn't know who I was more annoyed at: him before being gone, or me for worrying about him. "I'm not the only one it seems." I said.
"I'm thinking about our plan of attack."
"And?"
"And maybe its better if we don't."
"Don't what?"
"Attack."
"So what are you thinking, have a chat?"
"No, making a bargain."
"A bargain? What have we got to bargain with?"
But even as I asked the question I thought that I knew the answer. Like father....
Kadir paused "We need to find out what he wants. And then we need to give him what he wants without all of us dying in the process."
"What could we possibly have that he wants?" I asked out loud.
"The important thing would be that we're talking to him." said Kadir. "If we're talking then surely he's not killing us? We have to consider all options."
I'd heard that line before. The problem was that I knew Aashen better than Kadir did.
Now instead of thinking of things not to say, I realised that I hadn't thought about Home for such a long time. Not in that way, anyway. My association with Home was linked with Aashen and I think that was because I'd failed in my attempt to remove him from the world.
When I thought of Aashen I thought of Leshka, and I realised that I'd been trying to avoid thinking of Leshka, because those memories were painful. Away from here, they seemed like a different world, like those memories belonged to someone else, not me. But being back made my throat tighten and I felt like I was being suffocated.
But Aashen wasn't really a talker. He would keep discussing things with you, right up until the moment he killed you.
I had seen him do it before.
I didn't know about other demons. Maybe they were more receptive to work with other beings.
Although the campfire was still burning, I could feel the temperature dropping.
"You're quiet." he said at last. "You don't approve?"
"I didn't say that." I said "But I think that if he wanted to talk, he has had plenty of opportunity to do so."
Kadir watched me, thinking. He was going to say it. It had taken him long enough. The very second that I had seen him - and found out where we were - I knew that I would be having this conversation.
"You know, when I saw you fall from the mountain I thought you were dead."
I didn't say anything.
"Well, at first we all thought that you were dead." Kadir sat down on one of the logs near the dying fire. "But Father said that it was possible that you had ... travelled." He sat quietly for a moment, probably, I thought, reliving the moments. "We couldn't find a body. Your body."
Kadir turned to head back to the warmth of the campfire. I watched him walk away and could almost hear the thoughts flowing through his mind.
He turned, almost slowly. "Now that you're here, alive and well after all this time, it proves that Father was right. That you did travel." He took a step forward towards me. "I'm not asking how you did it. " Another step. "I'm not even asking where you were." Another step. "I'm asking why you came back now."
"Does it matter?" I asked, evasively. "I'm here. Isn't that the important part?"
"Will, will you leave again?"
I nodded.
"When?"
"When Anteya is safe."
He seemed to consider this.
"Its difficult keeping the peace." He said, after a moment's silence. "The outlands have over 50 villages now. The further we branch out the more we see of the sacred zones where the demons walk. The Imperial Guard does not leave City walls unless to go to war. They will not fend for us. So we have to fend for ourselves."
"Why are you telling me this?"
There was a long silence and I had a feeling of dread that I hadn't felt for a very long time.
"I didn't do this for me." he began.
"Do what?"
Silence.
"Do what?" I repeated.
"I did what I was told to do." said Kadir in a surprisingly small voice.
"Kadir," I could feel myself losing patience now. This was beginning to feel to familiar. I knew where this was going. I was just hoping that I was wrong. "what were you told to do."
"Make a deal for the greater good."
"And that means?"
I didn't think that he heard the tone of my voice.
"Exchange the Traveller for our safety."
There. He'd said it.
"Oh you stupid, stupid..." at that point I was lost for words but it didn't really matter, because I gave him a right jab which lined him up for the left-handed knockout.
Wham!
And despite the blood rushing to my ears, I was conscious of a click behind me
(should have checked behind you, Ray)
(silly mistake)
because that was why Kadir had made sure that he had my full attention...
(it's over)
BANG.
I stiffened automatically tensing myslf for the bullet that never came.
"He's down." said Xira behind me. "I didn't kill him." she added defensively.
I turned slowly as my back was still half-expecting a bullet.
Xira stood there. Two guns in two hands. One covering the downed guard, the other covering the group near the campfire who were scrambling to their feet having heard the gunshot.
I turned back to look at Kadir who was crumpled on the ground happily for me bathed in darkness as he was on the wrong side of the firelight.
"You just knocked your brother out."
"Yes."
"I mean, you knocked him out."
"Yes."
"But.... but.... he's your brother..."
I wanted to say something dry, but words were failing me. In the end, I thought that silence was the best answer.
"So what are we going to do now?" Xira asked.
"Rescue Anteya, fight the demon and save the day."
"In that order?"
"Yeah, why not?"
to be continued.....
Copyright 2012. All rights reserved by the author.
Thursday, 12 January 2012
2012: Windows reboot in progress
2012: Windows restart.
Welcome to 2012.
Happy New Year to all who read the blog and welcome to those who are new. I hope that 2012 brings you all that you could wish for and more.
Windows restart in progress, please wait...
A new year means a new start. We set goals and plans for the next twelve months and the more cynical of us say that those plans don't last past the third week of January.
For me I achieved one of my aims last year and started writing continuously. And that worked for a while, with the setting up of the blog and Portal being my first on-line creative project. Then Life got in the way and it all went haywire.
(incidentally Haywire is a film that I'm really looking forward to this year, but, as Shakespeare once wrote, I digress...)
Classification time: I'm an aspiring writer. Emphasis on the aspiring bit. As the title of the blog suggests, I'm on this journey and like all journeys, its not in a straight line. There are detours, wrong turns and sometimes the satnav does direct you to the middle of the lake.
(That might be an English joke - UK only). Sorry.
Oh, and yes, sometimes we have to go backwards to go forwards. Take now for an example.
New readers and it may help old readers too (all four of you) to read Portal parts 1 and 2 and the interlude again. Because the next part, part 3, will be posted on Sunday, and I will get back into the swing of things.
This is going to be a big year, with so much to do, so much to write about.
Big changes are in the pipeline.
New readers and it may help old readers too (all four of you) to read Portal parts 1 and 2 and the interlude again. Because the next part, part 3, will be posted on Sunday, and I will get back into the swing of things.
This is going to be a big year, with so much to do, so much to write about.
Big changes are in the pipeline.
Windows reboot rcomplete.
Take care and thank you for reading. Enjoy.
Joe.
Joe.
Sunday, 27 November 2011
interlude
Eleven minutes.
Ten minutes.
I found her standing in my living room looking at my books.
Nine minutes. This was going too quickly. I was fast running out of time.
“You’re here.” Ray said. “Finally.”
“I’ve been here all along.” I said.
Eight minutes. Too fast, too fast.
“Maybe for you.” Ray said “But not for me.” She looked away from me and studied the books on my shelves. Mostly modern crime thrillers.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Six minutes.
“That’s not fair.” I said. “I’ve been…. Busy.”
“Doing Other Things.” Ray nodded. “Meanwhile I’ve been stuck in the land of Perpetual Night.” He pulled one out. Not a crime thriller, I saw. Science Fiction. Very recent. “Is this one any good?”
“I don’t know.” I said “I’m looking for time to read it.”
“What you need,” Ray said wisely “is to prioritise.”
“Oh is that all? Oh thank you very much.”
“No need to be snippy.”
“No?” There were a thousand responses that I wanted to give, but excuses just sounded like, excuses. “Cut me some slack, will you?”
Silence. The deadline had come and gone. Time had restarted.
The clock read 21.35
“I see that you’ve decided on my gender.”
“The best characters are women.” I said “Ask Iain Banks and Joss Whedon.”
“That’s going to upset all the people who thought that I was male.”
I shrugged “I tried not to make that distinction. I was trying to keep it ambiguous. If I have slipped up, well, what can I say?” I smiled, “I’m human. We make mistakes.”
Ray studied me impassively.
“Well, let’s get on with it shall we?”
Monday, 31 October 2011
Another way of writing
Everybody writes blogs.
Whilst I'm no expert at it, I think that I'm getting better at it. But this one, guys and gals is an historic one. One for your diary, peeps.
Because this one, I'm writing... standing up. As opposed to sitting down, or even lying down (have done that too).
I am standing up. On my own two feet. And its weird. And I'm a little bit uncomfortable with the thought that I might fall back.
Standing up. Being a wheelchair user for about 60% of the day - deducting driving and lying down for well, sleep. Being in that position isn't good for the body, because its not good for muscles which shorten and tighten and atrophy, and bone density drops - if that is the correct term.
So I'm making more of a concerted effort to put weight through my legs.
And I thought, whilst I'm up here, might as well do something worthwhile, I know, I'll blog about standing up!
Which is weird - again weird. I haven't got my shoes on, which again isn't helping my balance.
Been standing for about 10 minutes now.
Usually, I'm reading. Naked Heat by Richard Castle: 80% through that one. But this time I thought that I'd try to do something a little more pro-active.
Boy are my feet aching. Leaving the shoes off to write the blog - not a good idea, I'm thinking. Or realising.
I told myself that the blog would stop when I couldn't stand for much longer - hey do you think that's where that phrase originates from?
Standing up the world isn't that much different - except that I stand up a bit to get my car into the car and for odd times at work - usually when I want to make an impact.
But I'm not a tall person - about 5 foot nothing. So standing up, as opposed to sitting down doesn't change my worldview... much.
But I think that my legs are going to give, so its time to finish early.
Bye for now. Take care.
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Interlude. Or Reflections On When Things Don’t Run Smoothly.
You may have noticed that I haven’t been here for a few weeks. Well, that’s not true: I have been here, just not here. Writing. Regularly.
It was my aim, and well, I blew it.
Sorry.
And now its not a Sunday and I’m blogging, or reflecting. Because this is the writing process. The whole of it. Harlan Coben wrote that a writer is somebody who just writes and has to write and can’t live without writing.
Well, that’s nice but… my job kinda gets in the way. I have a Life and that gets in the way, too. In a fun, lovely, special, annoying kind of way.
And I really like my job too. I know its crazy… but its true. When you get caught between the moon and new –
Sorry. Got sidetracked there.
As I did with Life.
That’s going to happen sometimes and I’m not really going to be able to get away with it. As lovely as the Alpasmart NEO is, its not my old Amstrad NC200, so just picking up and writing isn’t the same anymore.
This is Progress. Or so I’m told.
But the point is, the point is, that I’m going to get back on track very soon. Watch this space.
Take care
Joe
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Portal: 2
Hope you're all well and that you've had a good week. Thought I'd continue with the story I started last week. Any feedback would be very much appreciated. Take care.
Joe.
Next…..
Okay. Stop.
A thousand rifles?
Slight exaggeration there. I was being metaphoric, not literal. It felt like there were a thousand rifles pointed at us. There weren’t a thousand. Not even a hundred. Not even ten.
There were nine. Nine. All aiming at us.
I felt the waves of fear, anxiety. Fight or flight. Attack or…
“Wait Wait WAIT WAIT WAIT waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait wait. Don’t fire! Don’t fire! Don’t fire!”
At this point time is slowing down rapidly because every micro second becomes crystal clear because I’m thinking of any way that we can get out of this alive, and I’m running out of options. Nine is more than a firing squad. Even if we’re lucky and half miss, the other half still hit. And to think that we’d escape nine bullets is…. Unrealistic/stupid/outrageous what-kind-of-story-do-you-think-this-is? (PG rated: no sex, mild violence, some swearing)
Is it really possible to hear the shot that kills you? A part of me asked. Another part of me was trying to figure it out logically: it the bullet is travelling faster than the speed of sound, then logically…
Amazing the things that you think of when you’re facing death.
That was followed by: what happens if the guns weren’t guns but were actually energy weapons – does the same theory still apply?
Shutupshutupshutup!
And then, out of the corner of my eye I saw Xira, arms outstretched with a gun in each hand, aiming straight for the nine….
(where the hell did she get those guns from?)
“STOP! WAIT! DON’T FIRE! DON’T FIRE! Nobody has to die today! Ohmigod what’s wrong with everybody?”
It wasn’t a Mexican standoff. None of us were Mexicans. And Mexico was through another Portal.
I was waiting. Time was still being stretched out and then I plucked a different emotion out of the air: puzzlement.
“Ray? Is that you?”
I frowned. What? No, it couldn’t be… “Kadir?”
“Ray, it is you! Pause “Put your guns down. Its Ray! It’s Ray!”
Xira looked at me warily “You know these people?”
I stepped to one side, trying to see around the group, trying to find…
And there he was. In the fading light, with a grin from ear to ear. Arms outstretched.
Kadir Marek.
My brother.
Which meant…
I was home.
2
“You’re back?” asked Kadir.
That emotion came through clear and bright: hope.
“For a while.” I said.
He seemed to think about that, but I didn’t want to think about leaving just after I had arrived. Even though I knew that Kuresh could be anywhere and that the longer I stayed here, the farther away she might get.
“How did you know it was me?”
“’Nobody has to die today?’” Kadir smiled “Only you say that. I've never heard anybody else say that.”
Zahir started a campfire and the eleven of us sat around it.
Whatever tension and anxiety I had felt when I’d first caught the group was gone and all I could feel was their exhaustion. They were resting now that I was here and I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
Xira had put her guns away. I didn’t know where she had got them from and although I was worried that she had them, the fact that she had put them away was enough for now.
I didn’t like guns as people tended to get shot.
She said “You brought us to your home?”
The hostility had gone from her. Maybe that was because she was around people who were a family to me and probably wouldn’t be happy if she attacked me again. The cut on my arm wasn’t deep, but she had ruined a good jumper. I was a little upset about that.
“I don’t have any control over where I go.” I said. “The portal follows its own pattern, or so I’m told.” I thought for a moment. “Us? You followed me. And then you attacked me.”
“I want to get home. I thought I’d hitch a ride.”
Xira sat on my left and Kadir on my right. Michelle sat in front of me, bandaging my arm after cleaning the wound. She had put a healing ointment on it which stung before binding it tight. It wouldn't fix my jumper though.
There was something missing, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. My head was still buzzing from the fact that I was home and I was hurt by the thought that I would not be able to stay.
“Just like old times?” I looked at Michelle.
She gave me a sad smile. “A long time Ray.”
“Too long.” I agreed.
“Are you back now?” Michelle searched my face for an answer and found it straight away.
I didn’t say anything.
“It’s a strange day.” She said “One brother goes and another comes back.”
That was it. Anteya.
“Where’s Anteya?” I looked at Kadir.
Michelle answered.
“Early this morning Aashen came to the village, to take… supplies. We fought and they took Anteya and others and said that they would kill him if we followed.”
Kadir said “I made the choice to follow.” I heard and felt the defensiveness and defiance “Either they kill Anteya or don’t I can’t just leave them.”.
“Who’s Anteya?” Xira asked.
“Second Eldest.” I said automatically.
“And you?” she asked me.
“Eldest.”
Kadir continued, not hearing or ignoring Xira “We followed all day. But the light was fading, and we knew that to follow at night would not be wise. After all, we did not have a Seer to guide us.” He paused, and the words stung. “So we were going to rest for the night. And then we heard voices.”
Us, I realised.
The fire crackled and spat. I knew that Michelle had potions that could make it burn brighter and hotter. Maybe she was saving them.
Kadir looked at me. “You’re here now.” “What would be best?”
I couldn’t tell if he was putting me in charge or not.
“If I was in charge,” I said slowly “I would rest.” I said. “Start fresh tomorrow.”
In my mind’s eye I could see a bright green path. I knew that Aashen had been this way recently, and although I knew that I could follow him, I couldn’t really see in the dark and could easily lead everyone into an ambush.
That would not be helpful.
As people stared into the fire, darkness fell and despite the heat from the fire I could feel the temperature drop. Kadir, Michelle and the others fell asleep, hypnotised by the fire.
“Reyas,” Xira spoke softly. “Who’s Aashen?”
“In this world,” I said quietly, as I didn’t want to wake the other “Angels and demons are real. There is Good and Evil.”
“And Aashen is….?”
“Was,” I said “an Angel. A really good one. But now he’s pretty much a demon.”
“Why did he take your brother?”
“Traditionally, the Eldest Protector of the village is born with Powers of Protection. Aashen wants those powers.”
“But your brother is Second Eldest. Did he get those powers after you left?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand. What would Aashen gain from taking your brother?”
“He’s a hostage.” I said “They work in their own ways.”
“Who works in their own ways?”
“The Powers.”
“And so Aashen took your brother…”
“So that I would come back.”
“But Aashen is a demon?”
“Yes.”
Xira thought about it.
“Won’t he kill you?”
“Yes.” I said “Aren’t you glad you came along?”
Copyright Joe Singh (2011)
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