The Scribbler's Confession.

My first Novella is now available!  I won't deny that I am a little bit nervous about how it will be received.  It is a little bit shorter than I would have liked but it's too late to do anything about that now.  The book is called 'The Scribbler's Confession' and it is my personal take on the crimes of Jack the Ripper.  I just hope that somebody somewhere reads it and maybe enjoys it.  This is only the first of what I hope will be many, so it's only a matter of time before I finally write something that people will like.

Warm Soul, Shattered Heart.

Have you ever had the courage to share your heart and soul with the world?  Do you ever find yourself being transfixed by the lives of others?  Did you feel the need to write a poem about it?  I did and then I publised the result on Amazon Kindle Store.  If you own a Kindle or have the app to download Kindle books on your computer, feel free to download it and take a look.  The book is also available to rent from the Kindle library (limited time only).

Don't Go Into The Woods.

Thought I would share a little short story - just for fun.

Don't Go Into The Woods.

Don’t go into the woods.  Those five words were the first I ever learnt.  All through my early years, the only words I heard were ‘Don’t go into the woods.’  Nobody ever said why, and I knew better than to ask.

         Growing up I noticed that every so often, someone from our little town would disappear.  I would ask my mother where they went, but all she would say was, ‘Don’t go into the woods.’  So I never went in there.

            One day after school, I went to the woods, but I didn’t dare go in.  My mothers’ words rang clear inside my head, ‘Don’t go into the woods.’  I stood on the edge and looked in.  just to see what all the fuss was about.  There was nothing special about it.  It was just trees and grass.  In fact, it was just the same as any other woods’ I had seen.  As I stood there looking in, I started to wonder about how quiet it was.  There were no birds twittering, or flying in the trees.  Nothing was rustling about in the undergrowth.  It was almost as if the woods were dead.  There was nothing that appeared to be living in there.  I also noticed the lack of flowers.  There were plenty of weeds.  Everything was green or brown, no colour to be seen anywhere.

            I ran home as fast as I could, and I never went back there again.  People continued to disappear, but still I did not understand.  There was nothing special about those woods.  Many people did go in there, but every so often, one or more of them wouldn’t come back.  No one ever asked the reason why.

            Now I have returned to the home of my childhood, all grown up, and ready to face my fears.  Today, I will go into those woods.  Whatever is in there, I will find it.  The mystery that had haunted my childhood will end today.  With a deep sigh, and absolutely no idea what I was doing, I took the first step into the unknown.

            Leaves and twigs crackled under my feet, as I walked slowly through the trees.  There was no path to follow, and I had no idea of the way back, but my heart did not falter.  I just kept on walking slowly forwards hoping to find something, anything.  All around me there was nothing but trees.  No signs of life anywhere.  I was starting to feel a bit foolish, stood alone in the middle of nothing.  I turned to find my way back, but soon realised that it wasn’t there.  There was no path I had been following, and everything looked the same.  I was lost.

            The minutes turned to hours, as I desperately searched for a way out of the woods.  I felt as though I was walking around in circles.  Onwards and onwards I trudged for miles, but still I could see nothing but trees.  The sun was still shining above me, but I knew that it wouldn’t be long before darkness fell.  Who knew what sort of dangers the night could bring.

            Finally, just when I thought that all hope was lost, I saw a sign in the distance.  Smoke, from a fire.  Maybe someone was out here camping in the woods.  If I found them, then maybe they could help me find the way out.  So, I walked towards the smoke.  As I grew nearer, I noticed that it was thick and black, and there was a strange, sort of sweet, smell in the air.

            As I walked slowly towards the fire, I noticed that there was something burning on top of it.  At first I couldn’t tell what it was, but as I drew closer I realised, that they were bones.  Human bones.  That strange smell in the air, was Human flesh, burning away to nothing.  A feeling of dread and horror swept through my body, as the feelings of salvation that I once had, had now turned to despair.  I tried desperately not to make a sound, as I looked all around me, praying to God that I was alone.  There was nothing.  Who, or what had been here before, they were gone now.  I breathed a sigh of relief, and then I heard a gentle rustle of leaves, not too far from where I stood.

            As quietly as I could manage, I moved behind the biggest tree I could find.  My heart was beating so hard that it was pounding in my ears.  It sounded so loud, that I was sure it was going to give me away.  I just stood there frozen to the spot, waiting to see what would emerge.  What I saw next, will haunt me for the rest of my life.

            Out from the trees emerged a woman.  At least, that is what I thought it was at first.  It was a small, bent over figure, dressed from head to toe in a long, black cloak.  It stopped to put more wood on the fire, and I saw its hands.  The skin was so pale, that it was almost translucent.  Even from a distance, I could see the blue veins, like spider webs covering its arms.  On the end of the fingers there were claws.  Long, silver and sharp.  A gust of wind ripped through the trees, and removed its hood.  I saw its face, with the pale skin and pulsating blue veins.  The eyes were as black as its hair.  Whatever this thing was, it was not from this world.

            I stood behind my tree, unable to move.  It just stood there by the fire, almost as though it was waiting for something.  Then, out of the blue, my mothers words suddenly flooded my brain, ‘Don’t go into the woods.’  I had listened to her then.  Why did I decide to stop?  I looked over at It, and realised that it was looking at something.  It was looking at me.  Those dark, black eyes were staring right at me.  It let out a loud, cackling laugh, and I saw its teeth, sharp and silver just like its claws.

            I turned and ran.  I had no idea where I was going, but I knew that I had to get away.  Was it following me?  I did not know, but I was not about to turn around and look.  Night was falling and it was getting dark.  If I didn’t get out of here soon, then I was going to end up on that fire.  At least, the bits that were left of me would.  Now I knew what had happened to all those people.  They had become lost in the woods, and then fallen prey to this demonic creature.

            At last, I could see a way out.  Just a couple of more minutes and I would be free.  I would be safe.  Then I felt a sharp pain in the back of my neck.  I could feel the blood start to flow, and then came that cackling laugh.  It had caught up with me.  Just when I had thought there was hope, It snatched it away.  I fell to the ground, and I could feel those razor sharp claws, tearing away at the skin of my back.  The pain was excruciating, but I was not about to die like this.  Why did I not listen to my mother?

            The claws were frantically ripping at my flesh, but somehow, I managed to get to my feet.  I kept on willing myself to go forward, and to my surprise, it worked.  My body was being torn apart, and I was leaving a trail of blood behind me, but I managed to keep on going.  The edge of the woods grew gradually nearer, as I willed myself to carry on.  I could sense the desperation of It, as it tried desperately to drag me back inside the woods.

            The cackling laugh grew distant and feint, as I made it out onto the road.  I looked up at the moon, and screamed.  The road was empty, and the small town had long since been deserted.  My strength and courage had finally deserted me, and I was all alone.

            The next thing I remember, was waking up in the hospital.  Someone had driven past and found me.  Everyone kept saying how lucky I was to be alive.  The strange thing was, nobody asked what had actually happened to me.  I was expecting to be interviewed by the police, but they did not come.  Doctors and Nurses came and went.  They did their jobs, but never asked a single question about how I got my injuries. 

            Later on, when everyone had gone home, I lay in my bed, puzzled at the lack of interest in my injuries.  A man came round mopping the floors.  As he came closer to my bed, I saw that he had a hideous scar across his face.  He never said a word, just kept on mopping, silent as a mouse.  As he left the room he stopped, he looked back at me and said, ‘Don’t go into the woods.’  Now I understood, as I closed my eyes and wept.

Roll Over Beethoven

Am I the only person in England who can't play the piano?
 I was in London on Thursday where they have pianos dotted about in various locations.  It is part of some summer of music thing they have going on.  They are placed there for people to just come along and play and it seemed to me that everyone who did must have been studying for some time.  I must have heard about seven different people and not one of them was playing Chopsticks.  Wouldn't it be nice, if just one random person would sit down and pretend they could play.  I would much rather watch someone having fun rather than showing off.  On the other hand, there were some very talented musicians about that day.  Not one person made a fool of themselves, which was a bit disappointing in a way.  With the good music and the sunshine it wasn't a bad day out.  I just wish that I had the talent or at least the balls to have a go myself.

This guy was really good.

Why Change the Exam System?

So they are seriously considering scrapping GCSE exams and going back to O Levels because too many kids these days leave school not being able to read or write.  This has NOTHING to do with the current exam system.  You need to be able to read and write to fill the exam papers in!  The problem with the current illiteracy problem is that young people are not focused enough on what's important.  They lack common goals and ambitions.  Most kids these days just assume that they will leave school and have everything just handed out to them on a plate.  They just think that they will go on a reality tv show or have everything they need handed out to them by the government.  The real problem is that they lack inspiration and the encouragement that they need to go out and grab life by the balls.  It is not the exam system that needs to be changed but the quality of the teaching.  Teachers need to spend a little less time out on strike, go back into the classroom and do the job that they were trained to do.  What happened to that generation of teachers who made it their mission in life to inspire young minds?  It is the lack of enthusiasm of teachers today that has added to an ever-increasing problem.  It is their job to educate and inspire so why are they not doing it?

Was This Meant to be a Joke?

You know those silly little things that make you laugh out loud in the street, well today I definitely had one of those moments.  I was out on a delivery at work, when I overheard a couple of chaps who were doing some sort of survey about the town centre.  They asked the question: 'What do you think about anti-social behaviour in the town?'  The men they were asking it to were three old drunks, sat on a bench with a can of special brew each at eight-thirty in the morning.  It's just a shame that I didn't have the time to wait and listen to the answer.  I'm still trying to work out if they were actually being serious or just trying to prove a point.  Either way it certainly brightened up my morning.

Big Dog, Big Wimp.

Like Butter Wouldn't Melt.

Who was it that said big dogs are the bravest?  They have obviously never had a Jack Russell running around their ankles, like the one that used to yap at me on the way home from school.  I know a Westie that throws around cushions to show the postman who is boss.

  Today I met a Rottweiler that was afraid of its own shadow and a Chihuahua.  If you're looking for a decent guard dog, go for something small they've got more guts.  From my own personal experience, big dogs are usually just big softies.  It's the little ankle biters you need to be careful of.