Tag: The Ghostly World

by John Riley

There are times my dear visitor, that I can’t help myself, imagining silly little scenarios and writing them out for the pages. So I take my leave as we draw a close to this month with a piece that painted a picture in my mind and had me spilling a goblet of the bulls blood all over a newly washed burial robe I happen to be wearing getting ready for bed.

A knitted onesie

Tina adores being with dead things visiting the National History Museum and on first name terms with Stephen the wildcat guide. She’s fixated now on inviting him home.

Stephen said if she wanted him to come on his day off, he’d have to be back for tea at five.

Tina’s obsessive about knitting wool wants a bigger project now. She needn’t worry, Stephen likes her collection of knitted Felis catus, he thinks they look great.

He didn’t want to say when the conversation went dead, but her house smells a bit. He thinks it might be cats gone feral ’cause he noticed reward posters on fences for missing ones.

What time do you have to get back? Five, he says suddenly recognising unmistakably a feline bone sticking out of a knitted Siamese.

Tina just grins as if she’s measuring him up. Stephen doesn’t want sex with her he thinks she smells.

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by John Riley

Never seems to go away, you know, the thing about putting out the intention to the good old universe and then sitting back reaping the rewards when it pours pennies from heaven.

Here’s a rambling thought what if we are moving closer to some revelation about ourselves and that we are close to being able to influence our path through life, you know, attract those intended vibes towards us simply by putting in the right request.

And my dear reader, what if the grey suits of the world as we say, the movers and shakers, steering us towards a different agenda motivated by fear, are trying to stop that new awareness from ever materialising.

For would chaos rule the earth? Got a little micro piece for you on this theme. Here it be…

I know a secret

Well, c’mon, what father wouldn’t be burning up with excitement about a son ready to address the faithful this being his first gig an’ all. My, my, my wait ’til the crowd get a load of this revelation. Got a book to sell, available now, so you won’t miss out spreading the good word.

Mesmerising performance they’d worship the ground he walks on, how about that, eh. Tells them all that the moment contains everything that can happen, every potentiality. Tune yourself to your hearts desire and you’ll find yourself living the moment soon enough. You weren’t taught that when so green and susceptible being spoon-fed the paradigm. Isn’t that just magic, your awakening?

Chaos shall reign and your father Nick will be proud of such prophetic truths to challenge the falsehoods. Time that chain loosened and the pit opened and let your father have the time to play.

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by John Riley

You know found myself a bit of time to sit at the piano, run off a few tunes, warm the fingers up, bring back that flexibility. See, age plays its part on your mortal body, can’t cheat it, and try as you might to hold it back with lotions and portions. (Got yourself some of that fancy priced snail trail elixir in a nice bottle have you, eh, reckoned it gives your appearance more of a youthful aura over the future years?) Ha-Ha think again and look closely in that mirror.

I mean imagine if you could live for ever, better make sure the meat suit you’re in can stand up to all those punishing years.

Well I jotted down a very short piece, micro fiction, is that what they call it? Well I hope you enjoy a spin on that old chestnut. I’ll let the story tell the rest.

A done deal

He’d looked like a walking corpse all wasted and yellow. Never could stand that wet afternoon face. She said he’d a tongue giving misery still making her dead mother swear. He’s below, six deep, turned face downward just in case he tries to scratch his way out.

The new love shares the lumpy matrimonial pit of a bed. Eyes all fixed and burning like, eager to paint the town red spending that newfound wealth she’s acquired. Grinning wide puts an offer forward can have whatever she wants for her bleeding soul when dead, as down payment for devilment.

The spike heel widow weighing up the offer, closed mouth pulling grotesque shapes that’ll stick if the wind changes. Spits out the peppermint as if she’s sending it into next week. Ready she is to spell out her demands. Give it me now! The whey-faced bitch shouts. I want to live forever!

assisted by Valentine Heart

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by John Riley

Hello again doesn’t the time fly by really fast. Not that time matters to us here in The Ghostly World but you know when down on the earth plane yes it really does get its skates on.

Got one of those little issues thought I’d throw it out to you lot in case one of you is experiencing the same problem.

Wake up with blood all over the mouth. Aye, a right bleeding mess.

The lips punctured terrible, bit through the buggers, if you’ll pardon the cursing. I’ve got these long canines; don’t know if it’s an age thing, receding gums and all that making the teeth longer. Wondered if any of you have the same problem.

Silas reckons I’m clamping down on the lips when in sleep and the canines are biting through into the lip. I have no idea if that’s the reason but the pillow Valentine embroidered for his friend Maurice Blakewater, something of a parting gift when the moment arrives to pop his clogs. Well, I don’t know how I’m going to get the stains out before handing it back. I was trying it out for him; Valentine said I look to have the same head size. I ended up trying it you see, in my coffin I sleep in, let Valentine know it’ll fit just nicely when they lie Maurice down to sleep.

I’ll tell you something else for nothing; I’ve noticed the flowers in the vase don’t seem to last five minutes at the moment. Just wilt and turn black in the blink of an eye.

I’m wondering if there is such a thing like a mouth guard to sleep in, because at the moment it feels like I’ve got the dog’s teeth in my gob.

Catch up with you later. I’ve a visitor coming around tonight. Nice man makes me all hungry thinking about him and I want to get the place ready, as you do.

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