More to Me Than HIV

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More to Me Than HIV

First published in Gscene July 2020 For last years World AIDS Day I put together a public project of work joining other people living with an HIV+ diagnoses at Jubilee library.For last years World AIDS Day I put together a public project of work joining other people living with an HIV+ diagnoses at Jubilee library. For the project I spoke openly about my journey having being           Read more

More to Me Than HIV: GScene post Aug 2020

More to Me Than HIV is a project that aims to breakdown the stigma that has historically been attached to this virus.  When I saw my piece in last months Gscene to promote the More to Me Than HIV project, I was extremely proud, but a small part of me was filled with anxiety; but why should I feel this way? I have been on effective antiretroviral therapy since the Read more

More to Me Than HIV: first published in GScene July 2020

For last years World AIDS Day I put together a public project of work joining other people living with an HIV+ diagnoses at Jubilee library. For the project I spoke openly about my journey having being             diagnosed HIV+ 32 years previous. Back then there was no treatment and a lot of fear and misinformation concerning how HIV was transmitted. As such stigma was rife, Read more

31 days of writing

Writing everyday in October Part 3, Ronny’s comeuppance!

Writing everyday in October: Hate, Part 3, Ronny’s comeuppance:

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Ronny squatted over the bucket and roared as the fermenting concoction brewed and spewed from both ends: one in the bucket the other in the sink. Ronny’s groans quickly turned to screams as his insides tensed tighter and tighter in their desperate bid to rid themselves of the poisonous prawns Ronny had so greedy gulped all in pointless pursuit of getting revenge on a neighbour he had never met.

Ronny had not anticipated his plan to backfire (quite literally dear reader) with the force of a huge ‘wet shot avalanche’. On and on went the evacuation with such force that Ronny thought he was going to be turned inside out. After what felt like a life time, Ronny’s guts took a breather, allowing Ronny to catch his breath and thank his lucky stars that the worse was over, but unbeknown to Ronny, that first explosion was the first of many more to come. Ronny gingerly lifted himself off the bucket but this just allowed the gas inside him to shift and expand as once again his whole insides contracted and forced what they could through every single orifice. At one point Ronny thought his eyes were going to pop out, such was velocity of his body trying to survivor its poisoners assault.

After an hour of constant extraction, Ronny was left crawling around the floor, covered in array of bodily fluids with every inch of his body racked in pain, and still his innards continued to contract.

Meanwhile, unbeknown to Ronny, after helping transport the soul of Ronny’s last victim, Death had decided to stop in the flat below, knowing that Ronny was next on his list. Unfortunately for Ronny, his attempts at trying to piss his new neighbour off had not gone unnoticed.

Death had tried blocking out the disruption during the hourly news reports, but was constantly distracted by Ronny stomping around in his boots. This, Death had tolerated up to a point, as he knew there would sure to be another death and destruction story within the hour of the previous one. But when Derrick’s dirty tricks had caused Death to lose all concentration during Only Connect’s, missing vowels round, well, Death was not happy. But it was when Ronny had gone all out with his bombardment of noise the next day when Death, guessed wrongly who the murderer was in Miss Marple’s, A Murder is Announced: that for Death was the last straw.

With just Death living below Ronny’s flat and no one above him No one heard Ronny’s please for help as over the next twelve months Ronny slowly began to decompose, feeling every single pin prick of pain, every nibble from the maggots, every drip of blood congealing diamond sharp in his veins.
Ronny begged for death to come, but the one thing you never want to do is piss Death off.
You see, Death was pleased to make Ronny wait as she took a break, slipped on some earphones and worked her way through box set after box set of crime, comedy and horror dramas that she had been wanting to catch up for a very long time.

Posted on by admin in Gothic horror, short, short story, Writing everyday in October Leave a comment

Writing everyday in October: Don’t Scream!

After all that screaming, the quiet seems deafening. Looking around, nothing is normal. That stain over there will it ever come out. Strange the things you think of as important but on the grand scheme of things that stain that has a life of its own is the least of my worries, and yet I do worry, always have. Worried what my mother thinks, worried what the neighbours think, worried what my more successful sister thinks, worried what people at work think, Blimey, I even worried what the cat thinks!

I wonder if it’s the same rule as red wine? What was it my mother swore by, salt on the stain or was it white wine that has some kind of magical power. I would give her a call but she’ll only ask why its so quiet. I could look it up on the computer, but that is stain splattered too! Such a messy screaming match!

Seriously though, bleach is the only thing that’s going to shift it, I’m so pleased I managed to get out of the house yesterday and got the weekly shop done… there will be a fresh bottle under the sink…and some clean cloths, but that is such a waste. I’ll get the rag bag out from under the sink and use them.

Now as I sit here I feel so calm, something that has been missing for months! The neighbours will be pleased. I almost want to pop round and tell them, knock on every door and say that  all those months of shouting has now come to an end, but they will find out soon enough.

Maybe it will be best if I just leave things as they are, I wonder if it will be like on the television detective shows when they have those all in one white paper suits.

Oh my! I’ve just seen myself in the mirror, I’ve still got the hammer in my hand, I thought I was feeling quite relaxed now that the shouting is over, but I can’t loosen the grip, thankfully it isn’t that heavy. Not much more then a toffee hammer, but it has done the trick, shut him up once and for all. All that screaming, all that shouting; looking at him you wouldn’t think he would have said boo to a goose, but behind closed doors…

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Posted on by admin in fiction, Flash fiction, short story Leave a comment

Writing Everyday in October: Telephone.

IMG_3655Telephone.

The toilet had been a place to step out of the engulfing fog more then anything else. Thankfully it wasn’t one of those rank smelling ones Jess found herself in, in fact it looked like it had only been recently opened to the public.
Not wanting to look like a creep, Jess stepped into a cubical, tipped the toilet seat down with the tip of her shoe, and sat down. She was about to get her phone out of her bag when she saw a phone number neatly written at the top of the door. Jess paused as she went to call her parents to tell then that this time she had left George for good this time, but instead she found herself punching in the numbers from the toilet door.

It was only when the phone started to ring that she realised what she was doing and hung up. She then scrolled through her list of M’s until she got to Mum & Dad and pressed dial but only got the engaged tone.
Thinking how silly it was to be sitting in a public toilet, Jess stood up when she heard someone else come in the toilet. Without thinking why, Jess called out, “Hello?” but no one answered. She tried again, but whoever it was ignored her call and went into the cubical next to her.

Jess sat back down again and leaned forward enough to see a pair of black leather boots with a spiked heel through the partition.
Jess stared at the boots when suddenly her phone rang. Jumping up, she rummaged through her bag and saw it was, Mum & Dad calling. Now with someone else in ear shot, Jess felt really conspicuous as she pressed answer and whispered, “Hello.”

It was her mum on the other end, “Jess? Is that you? It’s a very bad line.”
Again, Jess found it difficult to speak up, without really knowing why. “Yes, mum, it’s me. I’ve left George.”

Jess’s mum raised her voice, even though it wasn’t necessary, “Sorry darling, You’ll have to speak up. George called said you and he had had an argument and that he was worried. He said you had taken the car. Jess, are you there?”
Jess raised her voice above a whisper as she heard the person next door move, their heels clicking on the tiled floor, “Yes, mum, i’m…” before she could continue, her phone bleeped telling her there was a call waiting. Pulling the phone from her ear, Jess looked to see the number was from the toilet wall, without thinking, Jess pressed answer. At the same time the person next door left their cubical and tapped on Jess’s door.

Jess held the phone to her ear, a voice said, “It’s time Jess, come on, i’m waiting for you outside.

Posted on by admin in blogging, Horror, short story, Writing everyday in October Leave a comment