Simon Fairbairn

“But more advanced, behold with strange surprise
New distant scenes of endless science rise”

Short Story #13: Shame

The office was small and cluttered, with filing cabinets topped with folders and papers lining both walls. At the far end of one of the filing cabinets stood a sorry looking plant. Every long, thin leaf but one was brown and wilting. Professor Akshan sat behind a large wooden desk, reading by a green banker’s desk lamp, and behind the Professor’s chair was a grubby window that let in a dirty orange light from a street lamp.

The Professor had had a shock of long white hair and was wearing an old dark brown tweed jacket. When Jamie entered, he was absorbed in reading a loosely stapled document.

A Poem About Blogging

When I went for a walk
To find blogging’s soul
Where I thought it should be
Was a deep dark hole!

I called out: “Hello!”
The hole was so deep
And I listened intently
But heard not a peep.

“Where is the soul?”
I said to myself.
And looked all around me
For somebody else.

But I was alone,
Alone by the hole.
The hole that once held
Every blog’s soul.

I sucked up my courage;
I tried to be brave.
“I suppose I should enter
That deep, dark cave.”

Short Story #12: The Hostel

When Maggie Mathews’ husband died, she had no idea what she was going to do. They had owned a small flower shop near Withington Road but he had always taken care of the day-to-day running of the shop and she had been in charge of the business side. She was a strong woman but the loss of her husband hit her hard and she found running the shop too much in her grief. The debts mounted and she found that she did not enjoy dealing with customers like her husband had and eventually decided to shut the shop.

The Lasting Impact of Nevermind

Nirvana’s Nevermind was one of the first two records that introduced me to the alternative scene (the other being The Offspring’s Smash) and almost overnight I started wearing Doc Martens and leather jackets and formed the first of my many bands.

Short Story #11: Triple Murder

The first shooting happened on a Monday. A man walked through the downtown office of a small insurance firm looking for someone in particular, and, upon finding him, opened fire, sending a single bullet through the accountant’s forehead.

Short Story #10: The Interrogation

“On your feet, pirate!”

Jay, lying on the metal plank that constituted his bunk in the small cell, turned his head for a moment to look at the man who had barked the order. Unimpressed, he turned back and continued to study the ceiling, his hands cuffed together in front of him.