Heading south through the ruins, I startle three deer. Their barks echo through the concrete canyons as they run.
I see ever more plants breaking through the tarmac; a green infection. I pause to watch the sunrise. The morning light has a golden quality.
Manhattan has never looked so lovely.
Bill lives in Aberdeen Scotland. He is considered a pioneer in the art of slacking off by many, but he can’t be bothered seeking accreditation.
A beautiful flower, blooming for a season; radiant colour, my soul lifted. All things are fleeting, the fragile more so. Your short season over, you left us, transformed back into the loam, nourishing the earth as your love once nurtured me. Goodbye my daughter. Your time short; your existence profound.
Bill lives in Aberdeen Scotland. He tried to be good once. It didn’t take.
I took his measure, as was my practise.
A calm demeanour, but behind that, an absence. A void where emotion or perhaps empathy should have been.
I sat down opposite him.
“Hello Detective.” He grinned. A predator, used to being in control.
It was going to be a long night.
Bill is from Aberdeen, Scotland. Like his home city, he is trying to re-invent himself, but for both success has been somewhat limited so far.
I didn’t get the warmest of welcomes when I started at the new branch. In fact, it was downright chilly!
Months passed before I discovered that Frank, my best work buddy and inveterate office joker, had phoned ahead to warn my new colleagues about my kleptomania and willful fire-raising tendencies.
Bill lives in Aberdeen, Scotland. He once flew in a UFO but was sworn to secrecy by the Men in Black.
“The buildings outside look bizarre, different. The people we pass look… odd. Whose idea was this?
“Let’s take the bus to the terminus. See where it goes!”
We’ve been driving for hours now. It’s dark outside, but there are two moons in the sky.
I just want to go home!
Bill lives in Aberdeen, Scotland. His campaign to be crowned King of the World has yet to really take off.