Moving out Was one thing Going out Was another I had drinks and food to steal Sensations waiting for me I couldn't yet feel It was all becoming real

Picture this Ruinous Relationship gone To point of rudeness They had it all Not a loss in sight Curious interests Ones for a good fight

I saw it all backstage A crossroads taking place Between two fates I walked in a room but i stopped before the door I heard chatter this that this that An argument held up by loose cardboard in mud

and so i left knowing what i know of love and it's causes for being so low and every time i feel a sensation burning I knock it off, pass and remember the couple that could be you eternally cursing

My restaurant in the Northern Quarter in Manchester is currently a top selling place. All the critics rave about the place like they’ve never eaten anything before, like hungry dogs hoping to get a bite of whatever their owner’s eating. Before the pandemic I was struggling actually, nobody was coming, not even family nor friends because it was suggested since I was in such a powerfully posh and privileged position that I could never be humble in any way. Jokes on them when I used my position to feed the homeless population in the city, they queued for miles to get their food. Since then my restaurant gained a lot of popularity, especially with younger people with them being socially conscious and all that. I go down to the restaurant at six in the morning to make sure everything is in tip top shape. I make myself over to the kitchen to turn everything on in there ready for the day, for my assistant chef to run around the place like a panicked rabbit. As soon as the lights come on in that kitchen all the screaming, yelling and sheer stamina comes back to me powerfully. To me, turning on those lights has the same effect as a morning shower or coffee as it gets me primed to go to work. After turning on the lights I make the dining areas ready, setting out cloths and cutlery for the tables as well as different glasses. I start to hear buzzing around my ears, pesky flies, I’ve forgotten to turn on the bug zapper. I flick it on and allow the blue light to penetrate my eyes and watch as the flies go towards it like some suicidal minions or disciples. They serve the light, they die by the light. At around eight thirty I see the morning corpse that I call my assistant chef come into the restaurant. The restaurant opens in half an hour, he’s early for a change. “Morning” I say “Morning chef” he says back “You’re early today, that’s a change” “Yes chef, didn’t get much sleep last night and thought might as well come in extra early” “I like your ethic, committed to the work. That’s what’ll make you successful in life” I say pointing to him “Thank you chef, I agree” “Enough chatter” I say “Let’s get this place set up” “Yes chef” We work on the presentation of the place for the next half an hour, final touches, smoothing out creases and making extra sure all the machines work and that we have enough food. It’s not until twelve that we get a customer, a balding, lonely looking man. He looks at our menu and I go to greet him. “Afternoon sir, will you be eating with us today?” “Yes yes, I’m just looking to see what’s here. Never been here before” “Really? I must say without tooting my own horn that we do have a bit of a reputation, we might have been covered in the news” “Oh really? Why were you in the news then?” “Well it was about four years ago now but we helped out the homeless situation here in Manchester by giving out food” I say smiling “Oh right, have you done anything of the sorts since then? Are you an ally to a charity or something?” This annoyed me, I don’t have to stay loyal to any fucking charity to be a nice person. How dare he assume that I’m not a nice person. “Well no and no” I say chuckling “However we did really help out that day, I assure you” “I’m sure you did” he said I’m sure sarcastically How careful I was with my words and actions. I would’ve liked to strangle him there and then but restrained myself, because I am a professional. Regardless he decides to sit down at our restaurant, he orders a coke as a drink and for food he asked: “Do you do beans on toast?” No we don’t do fucking “bEaNS On ToAst”, who does he think I am Joe Wick? We do proper food here, of the highest quality and actually worthy of the admittedly high price. “Beans on toast”, what a pillock. “Um no sir, that is not on our menu therefore we do not serve it” “Uhhhh, can I just have The Full English then?” “Of course you can sir, excellent choice, a classic” I take the menu away from him. A Full English in the afternoon? He does know it’s short for Full English Breakfast right? Clearly not, again absolute pillock. Me and my assistant chef get to work on the meal, the sizzling eggs and bacon make the kitchen come alive as well as the bread in the toaster and the baked beans in the pan. The smell was gorgeous, it reminded me of childhood mornings waking with an empty stomach and being led to the kitchen by the smell like I was in a cartoon. Specifically Tom when he smells pie in Tom And Jerry. As I came out with his food our customer was on his phone, probably sending "memes" to a co-worker the stupid prick. “Here’s your food sir” I say with a soft smile “Thanks” he said without looking at me “Enjoy” I say to him I go to my office above the restaurant and take out a special carving knife. I know and my assistant knows that when I take this particular knife out it means something is up and I have full confidence in my assistant to help me out in situations like this. He sees me come into the kitchen “Had enough?” he says “Yes, I’ve had enough” I say pointing to the customer We wait until he finishes his food like a pig. When he finishes I go up to him and ask if everything was alright “Yeah yeah mostly, the egg was a bit undercooked and I also felt like you gave me too much beans. But overall yeah it was good” My ever growing hatred reached its peak. “Is there a bill or something I need to pay?” “Yeah, there’s a way to pay” I say before jamming the knife right into his fucking eye. His screaming annoys me so i close his mouth with my hand as I repeatedly stab him in his stupid face. Trying to avoid my hand I cut into the skin of his head so easily, marks on his face were complemented by the spewing blood that came from his eye and then onto my clothes. His face looked all made up like he was in a horror film, with the last beauty touch being a slash across his throat splitting his Adam's apple in a vertical half. After calming myself down a bit and wiping some of the blood off my face and body I dragged the corpse through to the kitchen. My assistant helped me put the body in a freezer and afterwards I went for a quick change because I have a spare outfit in the restaurant in case something like this happens which, to be honest, it does often. My assistant cleans the floor as I watch from the kitchen. I’m a professional chef, and this is my fucking restaurant.

Robert dashed across the street from the bank he was robbing. As he ran he heard cars going past him filled with drivers and passengers unknown to the fact he had just stolen thousands of pounds and had to kill a man in the process. His breath was already starting to feel heavy, his jaw felt as if it was chained to a dive bell. He sprinted into a nearby alleyway, one where he knew he wouldn't be safe because 1) it looked dodgy as alleyways do and 2) there was a helicopter searching for him. He could smell the desperation in the alleyway where probably hundreds of homeless people had slept, urinated and defecated. Further proving this was the fact that a homeless man was urinating as he walked into the alleyway, oblivious to the supposedly clean civilisation and society that he was meant to be a part of. Robert felt a kind of kinship with the homeless as both him and them were outsiders in society so he always made sure to give some change whenever he walked past one holding out a cup.
Robert walked up to him to strike a deal and tapped him on the shoulder. Turning around, the homeless man hadn't finished urinating and spilt some pee all over Robert's jeans. Infuriated, Robert asked the man what the hell was wrong with him. Before the homeless man had ample time to explain Robert tackled the man and struck him repeatedly in the face with his fist, it was a cold day so his strikes would hurt him as well as the homeless man. Suddenly the homeless man bit Robert on the knuckle and caused him to reel back. "I haven't got time for this" said Robert as he pulled out a pistol with the homeless man simply accepting his fate, cocking it before shooting him repeatedly. His limp body simply fell over.
Robert was now on the run again. Having defeated the homeless man, he walked quickly through the streets figuring out where he was in relation to his home. The streets were empty, all he heard was the soft wind. The drivers and passengers from earlier had all gone home, to watch TV, to have dinner. Conversing with each other, asking how their day's been, how's the weather. A luxury and comfort Robert never knew. As he walked past building after building his body temperature started to rise, which was weird as it wasn't like Robert was particularly wrapped up. Suddenly in front of him, two squad cars were driving up to him speeding along. Robert ran the other direction but then saw the helicopter flying above accompanied by two more squad cars on the ground. He calmly sat on the pavement and looked at his knuckles, he saw pus forming around a certain area. Before he could form more thoughts Robert was taken by two police officers to a car. As the two officers drove to the station they were questioning Robert with no answers from him. They reached the police station and parked the car. One of the officers went to the back of the car and opened the door, Robert came falling out. Upon inspection of him, it was determined that Robert had died in the car. Upon closer inspection however, they noted how his knuckles were inflamed and red and also how a forming of pus had appeared on a certain area. It looked like a bite mark...

I cast my sail on an empty space, where no one lives and no one breathes.

It was a new day Black clouds surrounded me And in my chest was a stone For i could not release it On my own It required a partner A willing board One for me to land on When the stone bursts out In a bloody pulp And when the stone lands on ground
Nothing shall be said For the love alone In the air Makes us reflect On what i said No more bickering No more words My actions were loud Loud enough for the birds

Jane hops into the air balloon in time for it to launch. Her husband Marco marched onwards onto the air balloon as soon as they arrived, for he felt it was already a big favour for their friend to offer to take them out. They had just wanted a trip out in the country, overlooking the miles of fields and trees and posh houses that populated the area. He had not told Jane that they were going in a hot air balloon, she didn't even know that they were going out. They had just hopped in the car and drove. As soon as they arrived she saw the hot air balloon and screamed, unlocking her seatbelt and throwing herself to the back of the car. "What on earth is the matter darling?" asked Marco "that THING, what is that" "It's only a hot air balloon" "a what what whatwaht?" "a hot air balloon, have you not seen them before?" "NO Marco, i have not" Pulling up closer to the balloon Marco stops the car and takes the keys out of the ignition. Jane remains in her spot as Marco steps out of the car to a nice, sunny Saturday afternoon. "Jane will you please get out of the car?" "No i will not Marco" said Jane "i want to go home" "You're being ridiculous honey, just step out in this bright sun" "NO" Marco walked over to their friend who was offering the ride, he said he was ready as can be and the balloon for that matter. However Marco explained the current dilemma and their friend wished nothing but for her to get better and to come to her senses. "Darling don't you want to meet our friend?" Marco shouted from the balloon "I would love to but that THING is there" Jane shouted back "Honey really, this is getting a bit annoying now just calm down and come out" "I will come out when that thing is gone, and when you learn to respect my limits and boundaries" Jane said "I'll be back in just a sec" Marco said Marco walked back to the car and shut the door behind him. Jane was still in the back in a kind of foetal position, staring at the back of the passenger seat. "Look, is this a joke? Cause it's not really that funny anymore" Marco said "No it's not Marco, i am being totally serious" said Jane "Well talk to me Jane, why aren't you coming out?" "Cause THAT'S there" she said pointing "Yes I KNOW that Jane, but why?" "Cause mother said so" "Wait wha-" Marco paused, and then pondered a bit. Marco suddenly remembered going once to Jane's mother's house. A nice woman, but awfully superstitious with old wives' tales and the lot. She was also a massive contrarian, not taking part in any kind of trend or being remotely interested by anything happening in the world for she once claimed that "I have and know everything, i've lived long enough to see everything". With a smile Marco went down towards Jane. "Jane dear, this isn't about your mother is it?" Jane nodded "i respect that your mother was your mother and she raised you all by herself but you have to realise, she is wrong on a few counts. Don't you think? Like remember when she first met me? She thought we wouldn't last a week, now here we are three years later." "O-ok" said Jane "You also remember the time when we all had a heated argument about the new iphone? Remember how passionately you said afterwards to me that she was wrong?" "Y-yeah i do actually" Jane said "And surely you must remember the time when she kicked out one of our friends from our own house when he said that there was a new president?" "Yeah, yeah she was wrong on those occasions. But Marco i feel her everywhere ever since her passing, i can't shake her, we've had conversations about this." "Jane, I'm sure your mother would actually be more than proud of you right now. Going out, discovering new things, having new experiences, talking to people. This is all part of that and your mother, wherever she is, is looking at you with a smile right now. So Jane, please, take my hand let's go in the balloon" Jane reached out her hand at first hesitantly, but then she got more comfortable and followed her husband to the balloon. They both got in just as their friend was making it ready to fly, and they went, with Jane's mother's eyes following them wherever they were...

today it is my birthday and all my friends and family have come round there is cake there is sweetness the feeling of being surrounded by love as if to say i am grateful for the universe the earth and my own existence as a whole

there have been birthdays where i struggle to be happy where i cannot find my reason for living anymore that i am merely a shape evolving devolving like amoebas in water my past would be a better future for the young kids growing older where we could be free free from so much shit that brings them down today for we went at it with no judgement no knowing of what would come next whether that was love playing listening acting breathing or simply existing

we love our children and ourselves but let's love the present and the future as well

I walked into a Sainsbury's and looked at the deals and prices. Nothing interested me so i walked out. However, i seemed to spot a collection of bananas that were hanging off of one of the aisles. As i spotted it, it was about to fall off so i ran to it as fast as i could making sure to avoid staff members and other shoppers. I reached the fruit section and i saw the bananas in mid-air about to crash onto the ground and not cause a mess exactly but a mild inconvenience at least. I fell onto the ground and reached my hands out, catching the bananas and saving them. As I got up to put the bananas back onto the aisle I noticed the staff members looking at me strangely, yet an elderly shopper looked me up and down and patted me on the back. "Good lad" she said to me. I felt embarrassed yet proud, it was so real yet so magical so i decided to do what i was destined to do. I bought those bananas, took them home and left them on a high shelf not to be touched. They're still there to this day, they've gone brown yet i promise to myself to never let them fall again. I won't even let my wife or my children reach up there, for i do not want disaster to strike. For the banana is an innocent yet dangerous fruit, for i've played enough Mario Kart to not underestimate the banana. Trust me, nothing's been the same since the incident...

When I looked in the mirror I saw a big man, a big man with a big hat on his head. He wears a pinstripe suit with goggles on his face and a large moustache. But this man is not me, rather he may be a burglar or I am just hallucinating. The wife calls me asking if I'm ready to go as we were scheduled that morning to go on a brisk walk around the town where we might see something more interesting than the same buildings that we've seen a thousand times before. At that moment though I was transfixed by what I saw, to other people am I this ridiculous? That's a shame, I was under the impression that I was hip and cool and other descriptors. My wife walks up to check on me as I haven't been answering her calls from downstairs. She is quite cross with me as she thinks I am ignoring her when really I'm not, I’m just focused. "Marvin, please answer me! What's wrong?" She says in my ear I say nothing, only the inner voice speaks now "Marvin, I'm begging you, have I done something?" At that point she looked in the mirror to try and get my attention, to try and look me in the eyes. What came back to her was a tall woman, clean, short hair, a nice green dress, a face full of expensive makeup and a look that suggested a virginity regained that she needed nothing more of. Both of us handsome in the face of the mirror, not being able to take our eyes off it, stuck for all day. I think the people across the road have taken a dislike to our new obsession, they've always been nosy. I could always sense one of them peeping through a window at any time in the day when the blinds are up. They have this annoying tendency to just be overly curious. I know one of them only by name, Toby, but nothing other than that. They make strange purchases at the shops, I've seen Toby and who I presume is his wife down at Tesco buying all sorts of things. Dog and cat food despite not owning any pets, christmas cards for easter and easter cards for christmas, seen Toby buy pregnancy tests presumably for her even though he's told me before she's had her tubes tied, and I’ve actually also seen her buying baby food and other baby related supplies. Odd couple. It came as no surprise then when I could merely sense their eyes burrowing into the side of my head, like I said, always curious. One of them must've called the police because they were "concerned" I suppose. Flashing blue lights were now outside of our home followed by the sound of our front door being assaulted by a very urgent policeman. bang bang bang bang "Is everything ok in there?" Shouted the policeman bangbangbang "Mr and Mrs Jones is everything alright?" bang bang "If you do not reply we will have to force the door open, and that means breaking it just a bit. I don't want to do this Mr and Mrs Jones, as this is a nice looking door" Me and the wife of course didn't answer, we were still transfixed by our own reflection and letting the images we saw course through our minds like rushing water. The policeman started to count down from ten as it appeared that there were now whole squadrons of police officers in military gear outside of our home accompanied by a quite unnecessarily loud helicopter. If I've seen the films right there's probably a few of them outside of our door with a battering ram. Unlike those films though, there's a police officer outside crying at this prospect. From ten until the final count of one, we remained stone-faced and focused on the mirror, and that's when a mighty crash was heard from downstairs. I heard the muffled sound of footsteps and military speak slowly rising upwards and increasing in volume. Finally they found us in our room and they stopped, frozen by the seeming peculiarity of our activity together. One of them, presumably the captain, slowly walked up to us and tried to nudge us but nudged us he did not. He tries talking directly in our ear, which of course doesn't work, which is when he tried my wife's tactic. He looked in the mirror and saw what he saw, I only saw a glimpse, a glimpse of madness in his eyes. The captain flies into a psychotic dance and starts screaming at us. "Come with us now!!! You have to come with us!" I never budged, not even as the captain took out what seemed to be a large hunting knife and slit open my wife's throat with it. As my wife's lifeless, blood covered body hit the floor the mirror cracked and burst outwards sending me and the captain backwards and covered in shards of glass. That was the last thing I remembered before my head hit the wall knocking me unconscious. The hospital bed I now lay in is fitted with machines to make sure I survive the treatment and recovery of this ordeal. When I woke up initially in the hospital I was surrounded by doctors, nurses and government officials. They all wanted to know if I was ok, to which I said "yeah a bit". After filling out some paperwork and answering some more questions they all filed out of my room to leave me be for the day. I looked at the machinery that kept me alive and they cast reflections, and it was that same distinguished gentleman looking back at me...