Christmas is Coming!

It is definitely that time of year again.  Everywhere you look there are flashing lights and people falling out of pubs.  At least The Centre MK are still doing things in style.  Their Christmas display is as magnificent as ever and it is also the only one I've seen this year, to include a Nativity scene.  It was rather magical to walk around whilst sipping on an eggnog latte.

Only two weeks to go until Christmas is here and that only means one thing, lots of people going out and getting plenty of festive 'cheer'.  It is after all the season to be jolly and I see no reason why we can't all enjoy it, responsibly.  Just remember to wrap up warm and please, DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE.

Ray's Jazz Cafe.

There is this little place that I've been trying to find for a while now and today I finally found it!  Ray's Jazz Cafe on Charing Cross Road (London).  It was rather quite busy for a little place that is well tucked away.  The place was packed and there wasn't even any live music today.  I wonder how busy it gets when there is an act performing?  Despite the trouble I had finding it, I'm glad that I did.  Now that I know where it is I will definitely be going again.  I can see this becoming one of my many little haunts.

I regret to inform you that Rays's Jazz Cafe is no more.  It has now closed to make way for luxury apartments.  My apologies to all those who will never get to experience a piece of London's rapidly disappearing culture.

Spirits of the Underground.

The London Underground first opened with the Metropolitan Line way back in 1863.  Almost 150 years later it has expanded to a vast maze of tunnels and escalators, covering over 250 miles of track.  As we find ourselves travelling deeper under ground, you can’t help but feel that you are entering the unknown.  What secrets lie hidden within these concrete walls?  After a century and a half of murder and tragedy, a few unexplained bumps in the night should not be unexpected.  Everyone knows that rush hour can get a little crowded, with approximately 4 million people travelling on the tube everyday but even after closing time, the underground is busier than you might think.  Once the commuters have returned home, that is when the lingering spirits of the past come out to play.  With footsteps echoing down empty corridors and strange screams coming through the dark, travelling alone at night can be a very unsettling experience.

            One of the most chilling occurrences on the underground, had its origins more than one hundred years before the tube was even opened.  A terrifying scream that echoes down the tunnels of Farringdon, is all that remains of a young girl who was the victim of terrible abuse, ending in murder.

            Anne Naylor was a thirteen year old trainee hat maker, who was murdered by her employer, Sarah Metyard, in 1758.  She had suffered for many years at the hands of Metyard and her daughter, until finally one day, her employer went too far and she lost her life. Metyard had tried to dispose of Anne’s body in the sewers of Chick Lane.  Parts of the body were discovered, leading to her conviction.

            The ghost of Anne Naylor, was thought to haunt the sewers of Chick Lane for many years.  For reasons that no one knows,  she has now managed to somehow find her way to Farringdon Station , where she has become known as ‘The Screaming Spectre.’  Many people have claimed to hear her cries echoing down the station.  Could this be the devastating cry of a young girl desperate to be heard?  Or is it just the sound of ancient rails begging to be replaced?

            During World War Two, the underground was used as a safe place for many people, as a communal shelter during the air raids.  Entire families would gather together and hide from the Luftwaffe.  They would tell stories and sing songs to keep their morale high, whilst their homes were being destroyed above their heads.  For one group of 173 people, mainly women and children, that safe place became a nightmare.

            The station entrance at Bethnal Green , was the location of one of the more serious losses of civilians during the war.  173 people were crushed in the stairway entrance, whilst trying to escape an air raid in a blind panic.  One of the more poignant parts of this tragedy, is that it wasn’t even an air raid they had been running from.  The sirens had been a false alarm, after a new anti-aircraft gun recently set up in Victoria Park had caused a panic with its large booming sounds that were mistaken for a bomb.  There had been no reason for any of those people to die that day.

            Ever since the tragedy, there have been many reports of people feeling uncomfortable whilst in the station.  This has often been explained by the use of machines with low-frequency sounds, which can cause some people to feel uncomfortable.  That does not however, explain the sounds of women and children screaming.  A sound that many people have reported hearing in the booking hall.  This could be explained during the busy daytime, when there may well be groups of over-excited children about.  How would you explain it after hours, when the station is supposed to be empty?  Surely a large, noisy group would be easy to spot, wouldn’t they?

            Many  famous people have been seen on the Piccadilly Line.  I have even spotted a few familiar faces myself.  If you find yourself in Covent Garden Station late at night during the winter months, then you might be lucky enough to spot the actor William Terriss.  With his tall hat and white gloves, he should be fairly easy to recognise.

            William Terriss was stabbed to death on The Strand, close to the Adelphi Theatre in December 1897.  It is thought that he was a regular visitor to a bakery, which once stood where the station now stands.  Terriss’s ghost has often been spotted in the tunnels of Covent Garden, with the first recorded sighting happening in the 1950’s.  The station staff had got used to his presence and never had any problem with it,  until he one day appeared in their staff room, resulting in many of them applying for a transfer elsewhere.  It would seem that this harmless manifestation had gotten a little too close for comfort.

            One of the most unsettling experiences reported by London underground staff, is that of the disappearing tube traveller.  The most occurrences seem to be at Elephant and Castle Underground Station, situated on the end of the Bakerloo Line.  Both staff and commuters have seen a woman boarding a train but have never seen her leave.  She gets on the train but does not appear to get off again.  When staff go to remove her from the empty train she has disappeared.  This mysterious entity has also been blamed, for the echoing footsteps that have often been heard in the empty station after hours.  Is this the spirit of a restless traveller who never made it home?  Or is it that some people move so quickly, that they seem to just disappear into the shadows.

            Ever since the underground opened and even whilst it was being built, it has been plagued by tragedy.  From tunnel collapses, to collisions and suicide.  This vast maze of endless tunnels has seen its fair share of death.  Even in more recent times it has seen tragedy on a large scale, with the fire in the Kings Cross Tunnel in 1987.  Then of course there was the suicide bombings in 2005.  Millions of people travel on the underground on a daily basis and for some of them, it is a journey that they will quite literally be making for all eternity.  The tube is probably filled with as many unseen commuters as it is physical ones.  Spirits of the dead, who will wander through the tunnels or ride across the city day after day, never reaching their planned destination.

            If you find yourself on an empty underground station, don’t just assume that you are alone.  If you can hear voices or footsteps when there is no one else around, just because you cannot see them, it doesn’t mean that they are not there.  When you can hear a train that doesn’t arrive, spare a thought for the poor souls that never made it to the platform.

It's About Time.

Who else hates those kids that barge their way to the front of the bus queue?  Today I had the best driver ever.  She made them get off and wait until everyone else had got on first.  I would have applauded her but I was too cold and tired and not really in the mood.  It's about time someone tried teaching school kids some manners.  They run riot and make life miserable for everyone else.  It's just a shame that it is being done by a bus driver and not in the classroom where it should be happening.

Winona's Grown Up!

I can't believe that Winona Ryder is now 41!  It doesn't seem like five minutes ago that she was one of the hottest teen stars around.  I have been watching her films for most of my life and it is hard to believe that I am nearly grown up too.  Let's just hope that the future brings us some more iconic characters to add to the ones that she's already given us.  Watch this little video that I made celebrating this amazing lady.  I have blogged it before but I think that it deserves another look.

Lick it up baby, lick it up!

NocturnalWanderers.com

Here is another short story for you to read.  It is an idea that I had a while back and is the basis for a book that I am currently working on.  The finished book will be slightly different from this little story but it does have the same theme.  I had the idea of combining rich sociopaths, lonely outcasts and the dangers of the internet, with a little bit of macabre history thrown in to make it a little more interesting.  I hope you enjoy reading it and understand the lesson that I was trying to convey.

NocturnalWanderers.com.

13 High Street South.  That was definitely the address that she had given her.  The message clearly said; ‘Meet me at 13 High Street South, 6:30pm, and don’t be late.’  This was the place, but she was not here, nor was anything else.  No. 13, was just the site of what used to be a bungalow.  It had been burnt out years ago, and all of the windows and doors were still boarded up.  Laura looked at her watch, it was still only 6:15.  Maybe she hadn’t arrived yet.

            When she first signed up to NocturnalWanderers.com, Laura had only wanted to make new friends.  What she had found, was a group of people, pretending to be members of the undead.  At first she was unsure of the site, but curiosity kept her going back to it.  She soon found herself being drawn in to the fantasy.  She had even made friends with a girl named Mia Dulaarc.  They had been talking online for almost a month, and then one day, she asked her if she would like to join her crypt.  Even though she knew it was wrong, she was not able to stop herself from coming here.  There was a part of her, that desperately wanted to find a place where she could belong.  Now that she was actually here, it no longer seemed like such a good idea.

            Mia had seen the girl arrive, and watched from the shadows as she waited patiently outside.  Many girls had decided not to stick around after seeing the burnt out house.  Every so often, one of them did, just like this one was.  They were so desperately lonely, and wanted so much to be a part of something, anything, that they were willing to take the risk.  These were the girls that she wanted for her little family.  The hopeless loners with nowhere else to go.

            As soon as the clock struck 6:30 she made her move.  The girl did not move, as she stepped out of the shadows behind her.

“You must be Laura.”  She said.  “Welcome home.”

At first Laura was unsure of the woman that was suddenly standing there in front of her.  She was dressed all in black and her face was pale, but at least it was a friendly one.  The side door of the house was now open, and she could feel the heat that was coming from within.  It was a cold evening, and so she decided to go inside.

            The inside of the house was not at all how she expected it to look.  Someone must have redecorated at some point.  It certainly didn’t look as though there had been a fire in there.  The walls had all been painted red, apart from one, that had been painted with a strange mural that gave her the creeps.  It was a large, wall sized painting that depicted women with stakes through their hearts, being burnt on top of large bonfires, before being decapitated by soldiers with long, silver swords.

            There appeared to be just this one big room.  On the wall opposite the one with the strange painting, there was a fire.  It was giving out a warm, welcoming heat, and she felt herself being drawn towards it.  The rest of the room was empty, apart from the large sofas, arranged in a u-shape around the fire.  The room was lit by one giant chandelier, which she noticed used candles instead of light bulbs.  There did not appear to be any signs of electricity anywhere.  Someone had gone to a lot of trouble, to make this place look as authentic as they possibly could.

            As she sat warming herself by the fire, Laura suddenly realised that she was alone.  The woman who had greeted her, was gone.  Her heart was racing, as she looked for the exit door, and then found it locked.  She was trapped.  Panic set in as she remembered her phone, that was sitting on the kitchen table.  She was starting to wish that she’d told someone where she was going.  No one knew that she was here.

            Not knowing what else to do, she sat by the fire and waited.  An eternity seemed to pass, before she heard a sound coming from behind her.  Laura turned to see a doorway suddenly appear, in the middle of the mural.  The mysterious lady appeared from within, followed by six girls of about her age.  They looked pale, and walked slowly with their heads bowed down.  None of them looked at her, as they made their way to the front of the room.  They sat in a circle in front of the fire.  The Lady gestures to Laura that she should join them.  The fire was warm on her back, but she felt cold.  A couple of the girls looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t work out where she knew them from.  There was only silence, as they sat and waited.

            The Lady placed a large, silver cup in the centre of the circle, and each of the girls held out one of her hands.  Then she took out a silver dagger, and cut them across their palms until the blood flowed out.  The girls then held their hands over the cup, and it started to fill with their blood.  Laura watched in horror, until The Lady turned to her, and asked her to hold out her hand.  The other girls were now looking at her, and the blank expressions in their eyes, seemed to tell her that she had no choice.

            Reluctantly, Laura held out her hand.  At first, she felt no pain, but as the blood started to flow, it stung like crazy.  She could feel the tears burning the back of her eyes, as she let her blood drip into the cup.  Her head started to spin as she felt herself grow weak.  The blood just kept on dripping from her hand, until finally, it started to congeal, and she was allowed to take her hand away.

            The Lady picked up the silver cup, and studied its contents with a strange, glazed look in her eyes.  The girls sat silent and motionless, as she carefully poured the blood into what appeared to be a jam jar.  Then she went off through a door that Laura had not noticed before, and returned a few seconds later empty-handed.

            “A fine harvest this evening ladies.  The new member of our family, has made quite the addition to our bounty.  Arise now, and return to your lair.”

The girls stood up, and Laura followed them as they went back through the door from which they came.  She followed them down a narrow stairway, and into what appeared to be a cellar.  There were several large mattresses lying in the corner, and the large table in the middle, was covered in bowls of fruit and bread.  Each of the girls picked at the food, before lying down to rest.

            Laura looked around the room, and knew that she had made a big mistake.  She was trapped here, and before long, she would become like the rest of them.  Her blood would be drained little by little, night after night, until she no longer had the strength to carry on.

            Mia Dulaarc studied the jars of blood that filled the tiny fridge.  She opened two of them, and poured the contents into the steaming hot water, that filled her red-stained tub.  As she lay back in the water, she looked up at the picture of Elizabeth Bathory that was hanging on the wall, and she smiled to herself, as she made plans for reeling in her next victim.

Prehistoric London

Q:  What do you get if you cross Jurassic Park with Pompeii?

A:  Crystal Palace Park, London.

Well, they’re not really fossilized Dinosaurs, but simply the strange creations of the sculptor Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins.  Built in 1853, they are one of the strangest parts of the Victorian era that still survives in London today.  The park itself is a nice place to visit, with plenty of open space, picnic areas and a children’s play area.  There is a café in the park which is a nice, cheap and cheerful little place for a cup of coffee or a bite to eat.

            The walk around the Dinosaur Pond is well sign-posted with the names and descriptions of the Dinosaurs on show.  There is even an audio app of Darwin’s views on evolution that can be downloaded as an extra guide around the walk.  Just be warned that the path can get rather muddy if the weather has been wet, so you might want to bear that in mind when choosing which shoes to wear.

            It is a shame that you don’t find Crystal Palace Park in a lot of London tour guides, as it is one of the more interesting parks in the city and well worth a visit.  It is especially a good place to visit with children, particularly little boys who like their Dinosaurs.  They don’t even have to know that they are only made of concrete.  It’s always fun to see just how far you can pull their little legs!

Revised Edition

I have now (finally) gotten around to revising my book 'Warm Soul, Shattered Heart'.  It now looks more like the book that I originally had in mind and includes some new content.  It also now has the complete, uncut version of 'California Venus'.

'The Scribbler's Confession' is also available for anyone who likes a good crime drama.  It might only be a short book, but it does bring up some interesting theories that get you thinking.  A nice little read for anyone with an interest in the crimes of 'Jack the Ripper'.

Haunted London!

I’ve come across some interesting things on my many wanderings around the city of London but what I found today, has to be my favourite.  I didn’t even know that I had found it until I got home!  Searching through my photos of the day, I came across this mysterious figure.  He definitely wasn’t there when I took the picture but the camera never lies.  It’s a bit blurry but judge for yourselves.  Is this the figure of a forgotten spirit?  Fact or Faked, you decide.

How Times Have Changed.

Today I visited the Olympic Swimming Exhibition at The Centre MK and I have to admit that I was slightly disappointed.  Not that it wasn't a good display, I just wasn't as impressed as I was expecting to be.  What did interest me though, was the facts that they gave about how attitudes to women and swimming have changed over the years.  It wasn't until Victorian times that women were even allowed to learn to swim.  The costumes that they wear have also undergone some dramatic changes.

Victorian Swimming Costume.

During the Victorian Era, women had to wear bathing costumes that had them completely covered from head to toe.  No skin was allowed to be shown.  It is a wonder that they learnt to swim at all considering how heavy they must have got when wet.

Annette Kellerman

In 1907, Annette Kellerman from Australia was arrested for indecent exposure whilst on a visit to the United States.  She had been wearing a swimming costume that showed her arms, legs and neck.  Kellerman changed the suit to become less revealing of skin but still showed  off her shape underneath.  She then went on to market her own line of bathing suits that were considered to be offensive under 1920's censorship.

Now we have Bikinis and even Monokinis that leave almost nothing to the imagination and are all perfectly legal in most countries.  It would seem that over the years, women haven't just been granted the freedom of swimming but also the right to wear what they like whilst doing so.  The Victorians may have wanted us to cover up but it would seem that we would much rather follow in the ways of the Ancient Romans who swam in the nude.

The Seven Deadly Sins of the World.

Is it just me or has anyone else noticed how the world has succumbed to The Seven Deadly Sins?  The Bible tells us that these are the seven characteristics of Man that God despises the most.  Why then have we made them a way of life?

Sloth:  The number of benefit cheats and scroungers is steadily increasing.  Everybody wants something for nothing but nobody actually wants to work for what they have got.  The human race has become lazy in their work habits.

Lust:  The profitability of the Porn Industry is just one example of how we no longer control and repress lustful thoughts.  More and more people are living a life of promiscuity and sexual depravity.  We have become obsessed with fantasizing over human flesh.

Greed:  The want for material possessions has taken over most peoples’ lives.  Even those that appear to have it all still want more.  It doesn’t seem to matter how much we have, it is still never enough.

Envy:  We always want what someone else has got.  Our own jealousy stops us from celebrating other peoples’ success.

Gluttony:  The alarming statistics on obesity speaks for itself.  We have taken to eating more than we actually need to and then continue to eat more.  Our desire for food and bingeing has taken this sin to a whole new level.

Wrath:  We are controlled by our anger.  We lash out at anyone who has done us wrong and never stop to think of the consequences.  People will come to blows over the smallest of things, leaving death and destruction in their wake.

Pride:  We will never admit when we are wrong.  No one ever wants to admit to being a failure and so we just carry on making the same mistakes until the fall hits us hard.

So it would seem that over time we have turned our backs on the teachings of God.  Now we have become people who are lazy, promiscuous, greedy, jealous, fat, angry and worst of all proud.  We are actually proud to be all of these things.  The real question is:  Are you really happy?  God doesn’t just teach us how to lead good, clean and boring lives.  His lessons are about how to lead happy, healthy and fulfilling lives. The Seven Deadly Sins were written to teach us how to respect ourselves and others.  They are about learning to appreciate the things that you have in life and accepting that you can’t have the things that you do not.  Until we can learn to do this our lives will never be complete.

Proof That Britain Really is Great.

I take back everything that I previously said about Team GB not having the best athletes.  Once the medals started coming they just didn't stop.  There have been a few disappointments but the gold medals came in fast, accompanied by new world and Olympic records.  It looks like London 2012 has been the year of the Rowers and the Cyclists.  After her previous disappointment of disqualification, Victoria Pendleton certainly redeemed herself in the Keirin.  It will also be a long time before anyone forgets the performance that Jessica Ennis gave to win gold in the Heptathlon.  This has certainly been the best Olympics that Great Britain has had for a long time.  Even those athletes that weren't lucky enough to win a medal have done our country proud.  Let's hope that we can keep up the success and win a few more medals before the games are over.  GO TEAM GB!

No One Likes a Bad Loser.

Olympic Rings on Tower Bridge.

Why does no one seem grateful for the medals that they are winning at the London 2012 Olympics.  It seems that many of the athletes who have only won bronze or in some cases even silver, are still crying just because they didn't get gold.  Now we have so called athletes being disqualified for trying to fix their results.  What is going on with the rest of the world.  Team GB, who are now 10th in the medal table having finally won 2 golds themselves (plus 2 silver and 4 bronze), would not stoop to such childish behaviour.  Is the rest of the world putting too much pressure on their athletes to win?  The British athletes train hard and do their best.  They do themselves and their country proud and if they don't win, then they suck it up and congratulate those that did.  Great Britain may not have the best athletes but we certainly have the best sportsmanship.  The rest of the world could learn a lot from us, like how to handle defeat with dignity.

St. Albans Cathedral and Verulamium Park.

St. Albans Cathedral.

Today I made a visit to the Cathedral and Abbey Church of Saint Alban.  Entry is free but as always, donations are welcomed.  Inside you get a real sense of the history of the building from the fading pictures on  the walls, to the beautiful hand-made tapestries that depict the history of the cathedral.  It is only slightly let down by the fact that the chandeliers are now electric.  The cathedral bells still sound pretty good.  After the clock chimed for midday they played quite a nice clear tune.  I'm not sure exactly what it was but it sounded a bit like 'When the Saints go Marching In.'  Abbot's Kitchen is also open at the cathedral for lunch or afternoon tea.

Verulamium Park.

After my trip around the cathedral, I went for a walk around Verulamium Park.  The lake is teeming with wildlife, mainly various species of ducks, swans and even the occasional heron.  Throwing bread to the ducks is not advised but you can buy grain for them from the Park Inn.  There is also a splash park, children's playground and sports area nearby.  Refreshments are also available seven days a week.

Roman Wall.

As well as enjoying some of St. Albans' beautiful countryside, there are also some ancient Roman sights to look out for such as walls and theatres.  On a nice warm, sunny day like what I had today, Verulamium Park is not a bad way to spend a day.





If you are looking for a nice place to eat, then I would definitely recommend Bakehouse St. Albans.  It is a very nice, quirky little bakery and eatery tucked away in a small parade of independent shops just behind the cathedral.  The interior has a very traditional English feel to it.  Every table has a small plant on it, sitting in empty jars of Marmite or English mustard.  Nice little touches that add to the simple elegance of the place.  The food is homemade on the premises including a vast range of cakes, salads and pastries.  I tried the Lemon Drizzle Cake (made by Hannah) and it was one of the best I have ever had.  The sponge was soft, moist and only slightly tangy, served with a fresh raspberry on top.  It went down very well with my latte.  The staff were all very warm and friendly.  I would definitely recommend it to anyone visiting the area.  Just be warned that it isn't cheap, although the quality of the food is definitely worth the price.

Bakehouse St. Albans.

Behind the Door.

Behind the Door.

By Kay Louise Hale.

It was just an ordinary Monday night.  I was sat alone watching TV, some mild comedy about young lovers from opposite ends of the country.  It was approaching midnight and I was starting to drift off to sleep, when there came a light, knock, knock, knock on the door.  At first I thought I had imagined it, but then it came again.  I was not in the mood for receiving guests, and peered out of the window to see who it might be.  There was nobody there.  The whole street was empty.

            Feeling exhausted I turned off the TV and went to bed.  No sooner had I closed my eyes, than the knock, knock, knock came again.  I was so not in the mood for this.  I opened the door to have a look.  Still, there was nobody there.  I called out, but nobody answered.  A light mist was forming, and it was cold.  The thermometer by the door was reading two degrees.  I shivered and went back to bed.

            At one am the knocking came again, louder.  I was not finding this funny anymore, and I picked up the telephone to call the police.  The line was dead, maybe the power was off.  I hunted around for my mobile but it had no signal.  I was alone, unable to call for help and there was some crazy person knocking on my door.  My body shivered from the cold, and just a little bit of fear, as I stood peering out of the window.  The fog had grown thicker, and the temperature was now down to minus five.  I looked in the direction of the front door, and I could clearly see that the porch was empty but the knocking came again.

            I walked slowly towards the door, and bent down to peer through the letter box.  I tried to push it, but it would not open.  I hit it as hard as I could but it was frozen shut.  There was ice forming in the cracks of the door, and it was too cold to touch.  I stood up on my toes to get a look through the spy hole.  Whoever was out there, they were not going to hide from me.  I looked out, and I froze in horror, as I caught sight of the burning red eyes that were staring back at me.

            An immense feeling of dread swept through my body, as the knocking came again.  This time it was even louder.  The door shook, and tiny icicles dropped over the floor.  I looked again but the eyes had not moved.  Whatever was out there, it was not human.  I started to cry as the pounding grew more consistent.  The creature, whatever it was, wanted me to let it in.

            I have never been particularly religious, but I dropped to my knees and prayed.  I held my hands firmly over my ears, and I recited The Lord’s Prayer over and over again.  I had never asked for God’s help before, but boy did I need it now.  The words of the prayer seemed to be angering whatever it was, and the house began to shake, from the intensity of its insistent pounding.

            My eyes flew open and I knew what I had to do.  I’ve seen the exorcist, and I think I know how this works.  You just have to show it that you’re not afraid.  I jumped to my feet, and shouted as loud as I could:

“Our Father in Heaven,”  crash, crash, crash on the door,

“Hallowed be Your name.”

            The Thing let out a piercing scream, shattering all the windows.  I picked myself up, covered in splinters of glass.  With blood running down my face, I threw my arms up in the air and began again.

“Our Father in Heaven, Hallowed be Your name, Your Kingdom come, Your will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.”  Let Him hear me now, and take this thing away from my door.

            I stood frozen from fear as the door suddenly burst open.  Those red eyes were staring at me through the fog, but The Thing did not move.  My words escaped me as I dropped to my knees, and was ready to receive my fate.  The cold fog began to fill the room, and I waited for it to come.

            I could feel the cold, dampness of the fog on my skin, but I was afraid to look up.  I did not want to see.  The Creature was growing nearer.  An icy cold hand touched the back of my neck, and I could feel it resting on the top of my spine, reaching out to touch my very soul.  I whispered my prayers, begging The Lord for forgiveness, and deliverance from this evil.  The Devil had me in his hands, and now I was ready for His final test.

            Climbing to my feet, I came face to face with it.  It just looked like a shadow with eyes, and I started to wonder what I had been afraid of.  I saw it for what it was, nothing more than a malicious spirit, unable of actual physical harm.  Its eyes were trying to pierce into my soul, but I would not let it in.  The only weapon It had against me, were my deepest, darkest thoughts,  but I would not let It have them.  My courage had returned, and I did not falter.  I stared down those fiery eyes, and showed It that I was no longer afraid.

            It tried its best to break my spirit.  The furniture began circling around the room.  It moved faster and faster, growing closer until I could feel it brushing against my skin.  The creature let out a high pitch scream, that went higher and higher, until my ear drums were ready to explode.  Still I was not afraid.  I was not going to let It win, and soon I could feel its strength start to weaken.  Chairs and tables suddenly crashed to the floor, and the fog began to lift.  I waited until the shadow had disappeared into the night, and then feeling exhausted, I fell to the ground, as the door slammed shut.

Eat BRITISH this summer.

So McDonalds have taken over the Olympic 'catering' and banned everyone else from selling chips.  How is this fair?  They are not even a British company.  This would be the perfect opportunity to show the rest of the world what we have to offer.  If you are in London this summer, for the Olympics or otherwise, check out some of the smaller, independant cafes and restaurants.  London (and the rest of England too) has some very nice little places to eat.  Don't just follow the crowds to the nearest burger chain.  Look around for some of the quirky little places with proper homemade food.  Try something different and really make this a summer to remember.

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.

Fight or Flight?

Is running away always the best option?  Is it a good idea to go through life running away every time things get too difficult?  Or should we try to stick it out and hold on until the end?  We can go through life running away from things that are hard and never really getting anywhere.  No matter how tough things get, if you stay and work through it, then the rewards will be worth it in the end.  Set yourself some goals and keep on going until you reach the end.  If you are willing to work through the hard times, then you will get there eventually.  Keep running and you will be running forever.

Irony, or Coincidence?

On 15th April 2012 it will be the 100th anniversary since the Titanic sank.

One of the biggest sea disasters in British history, that will forever be remembered as a tragic and unnecessary loss of lives.  (As well as Leonardo DiCaprio's blue face disappearing beneath the waves.)  As we are fast approaching this landmark anniversary, is it just me, or has anyone else noticed that the news has been filled with stories of cruise ship disasters?  First there was the Costa Concordia which sank with the loss of lives.

Now we are hearing about one of its sister ships, the Costa Allegra, that is being towed to port after a fire.

Those are only the recent ones.  There have been various other disasters over the last few years.  It would seem that even now, 100 years after the Titanic tragedy, lessons have still not been learnt.  It would seem that we are still putting luxury over safety.  Is it just me, or is anyone else worried that they are building bigger, heavier aeroplanes?  They have already more than proved that big ships have a habit of sinking.  How long before their Uber Planes start falling from the sky?

Purple Shame.

I am not ashamed to admit that I love reading Alan Dee's column in The Herald & Post.  There have been some weeks that I haven't agreed with his views but this week, I think that he might have been on to something.    Why not paint the faces of binge-drinkers bright purple.  That way we can all point and laugh at them in the street and make them feel like the idiots that they are.  He is also right that the self-controlled drinker should not have to suffer, just because some people don't know when to stop.  I personally think that the purple face painting thing should definitely be considered.  Maybe they could even include a green option for those that vomit in the street whilst drunk.  If these people want to act like clowns, then why not make them look the part.

Just Harmless Fun?

What is it about Snow that makes people go crazy?  It turns perfectly normal young people into thugs and vandals.  You can't walk down the street without seeing someone being pelted with a snowball from behind a wall.  Then there is the traffic issue.  If driving along icy roads wasn't dangerous enough, you also have to contend with little white missiles being thrown from all angles.  I myself was on a bus just a few days ago, that was hit by at least twenty snowballs all at once.  They were hitting the side of the bus and the windows, all within a few seconds of each other.  It was like driving through a war zone.  I can only guess what the poor driver must have been thinking.  It is only a matter of time before this so called 'harmless fun' causes a serious accident.  Today they might just be throwing snowballs but tomorrow it could be concrete from the top of a motorway bridge.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, young people these days are out of control.  Teachers blame the parents and vice versa, therefore nobody is stepping in and taking control of the situation.  The real question is; Where is it all going to end?

Money For Nothing.

Wouldn't it be great to go to work, but still get paid for doing nothing.  To just stand around talking with your friends, and then get paid for it at the end of the week.  My advice to you, would be to go and work in a cheap shoe shop.  That is the way they seem to operate.  I went into one today, looking for a pair of cheap shoes for work.  I picked up a pair and went over to the counter.  Then I stood there and waited.  FIVE members of staff stood in a group behind me, just casually carrying on their conversation.  They seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact they were supposed to be running a shop.  I waited a little longer, before giving up, leaving the shoes sitting on the counter.  Is it any wonder that so many of these shops are closing down.  They would make a lot more money, if they actually bothered to SERVE THEIR CUSTOMERS.

Who Invented The Automated Account Checker?

Who was it, that thought it would be a good idea to let a computer decide how a human spends their money?  Millions of pounds goes missing through fraud every year, and the computer thinks that this is normal.  But, if a person decides that they want to order a new adapter for their laptop, the computer thinks that this is strange, and blocks their account.  This then leads to a frustrating telephone call, answering pointless so called security questions, just to regain access to your own money.  Suddenly spending hundreds or thousands of pounds on luxury items would be abnormal.  Spending a few pounds on an everyday item is not.  How does the computer know when things break down?  If it was that smart, it would already know that my laptop was in need of some attention.

Call This Justice?

So, two of the killers of Stephen Lawrence have finally been brought to 'justice'.  What sentence did they get, fifteen years one and fourteen years the other.  The victims family had to wait longer than that to see justice done.  What about the others that were involved?  How much longer until they get found out?  And what meagre sentence will they face?  What have they all been doing for the last eighteen years?  If they had any remorse, then they would have given themselves up a long time ago.  For eighteen years they carried on as normal, living out their lives, and all the time knowing that they were guilty of taking an innocent life.  How did they manage to sleep at night, with the guilt of what they had done?  Or was it their lack of guilt, that is the real tragedy in this case.  At least Stephen Lawrence's family can rest easier, knowing that at least two of those responsible for his death, are getting away with it no more.  It is just a shame that they had to wait so long to see it happen.