Bernard extruded his eyes and adjudged it safe to move. Sliding along the green highway, he hummed a mollusc tune as his pseudopodium left its characteristic trail behind him. With a bit of luck he would make it to the cabbage patch before the afternoon sun made it too dangerous for a small, slimy person to move.

He was doing well until he got cocky and neglected to look before he rounded the garden shed.

The blackbird was on him before he had chance to tuck in his head and pretend to be a pebble.

“Oh fuck,” he said bitterly.

©️jj 2019

Time, the winding river, runs to the eternal sea
Leaves us stranded on its banks as on through all it flows
It sweeps away what was not and what is meant to be
And none can dam its waters as ever on it goes.

It brings the look of wonder to each new child’s face
It sets the heart racing in a lover’s brimming breast
It carries those who fight so hard to win the rat race
It brings the poet inspiration in moments blessed.

I sit beside the river and record all that I see
The highs and lows, the smiles, the tears, the joy and the pain
I paint word pictures of how those moments seem to me
As the river brings them by, then takes them off again.

There is so much it brings me that I can only try.
So lay my pen beside me when the river’s run me dry.

E.M. Swift-Hook

Defeat was always a bitter cup from which to have to swallow, but Kahina Sarava determined from the first that it should not define her.
True, she now had to endure exile in the grand house she liked the least of all she owned. It was a sprawling, over-ornate residence built in the heart of great natural beauty and originally intended as a place where she could entertain and impress the powers of Central. It suited her political enemies to have her there, isolated and cut off from any place of influence. But, it was not entirely without benefit. Freed from the endless need to joust for political advantage, she had considerably more time for some of the other things that mattered. Such as pursuing her lifetime’s work: Future Data.
So she stood, back straight, defying her age as the fussily dressed man climbed from his vehicle and walked the short distance to where she waited in front of the main door to her house. The security people who flanked her on either side, guards set to both protect and contain her, stiffened visibly as her visitor approached.
“Garn, what a delight to see you.” She had been expecting him. Though when the brief message informing her of a visitor had come through earlier that day, his name had not been mentioned. “I think this must be the first time we’ve had a get together since you arrested me. What would bring you all the way from Central to visit me in person? I am sure you could gloat quite adequately over link.”
He was a big man in many uses of the word, and it amused her to make him feel uncomfortable. There was little enough by way of human entertainment for her here and no small responsibility for her incarceration rested on his shoulders.
“Right,” he said, and she could see he was sweating despite the temperature being pleasantly cool. “Maybe we could go in and talk somewhere a little more private.”
“I can offer you anything here, except privacy.” She made an elegant gesture with her hands, unfolding them to indicate the attentive security detail. “I am not permitted that even when I sleep. My link connections are watched and my conversations monitored.”
Garn Jecks seemed unperturbed, but then his mind was not very flexible. If he had arrived with a fixed idea of some objective he wished to achieve, that would be both the full extent and narrow focus of his thinking. Laser like — if a laser were some solid substance and not fluid photons. Such inability to embrace the broadest view whilst still keeping the details in sight irritated Kahina. Her own mind suffered no such limitations, and she tolerated it poorly in others.
“I will make the necessary arrangements,” he told her. Matching actions to words, he turned to issue brief orders to the security detail, then added more by link to the invisible watchers who controlled the remote monitoring of her residence. They all moved quickly to obey, but then he was their supreme commander, the man in charge of the Coalition Security Force.
A short time later, Kahina found herself sitting in her favourite room, ambianced to remind her of her mother’s study with shelves of books and curios, heavy looping curtains at the windows and the antique wooden desk. She had chosen not to occupy the desk, Jecks wasn’t someone who would be in the slightest bit intimidated by her doing so. Instead, she sat in one of the comfortable, deep-cushioned chairs set either side of a beautifully carved and inlaid table. Jecks sat opposite her having just dismissed the last of his entourage. He was visibly discomfited. Kahina played the perfect hostess.
“Can I offer you any refreshments? It’s not the shortest of hops here from Central.”
“Right. It’s not. But thank you, no. I’m a bit pressed for time.”
She couldn’t resist another dig.
“I am fully accessible by link, you know.”
Jecks didn’t trouble to answer that. His preoccupation was blinding him and Kahina wondered if the poor man was even aware how much that showed.
“There has been a — a development.”
“A development?”
He almost squirmed.
“I have just received some information which has brought into question our previous conclusions regarding the Future Data project.”
Kahina considered feigning surprise.
“Oh?”
Jecks looked as if he had swallowed something that settled ill in his stomach. For a moment, he glared at her.
“So you already knew.”
She didn’t trouble to reply, instead allowing her expression to reflect the untroubled confidence she was feeling. Jecks muttered something under his breath then started pulling up a remote screen of what appeared to be some security surveillance. Not the best quality and from a static camera, but when he zoomed the image and froze it, the result was perfectly clear.
“Oh dear,” Kahina said gently. “How very embarrassing for you. I wonder what you plan to do about that?”
Jecks pulled at his neckline as if it were too close about his throat.
“It’s not what you…”
“Oh, but I rather think it is.” The first taste of victory after such a bitter defeat and three years of exile was so sweet. She leaned forward, unable to suppress her delight and not caring that it showed. “I rather think you need me again.”
Jecks physically recoiled from her.
“Kahina, I — “
“Var Sarava,” she corrected him. He looked as though she had slapped him hard across the face and Kahina smiled. “You are of course quite right. I knew already. Or should I be more accurate and say that Future Data informed me of there being a high probability that those two would resurface in this timeframe.”
“Then you know why I came.” Jecks sounded defeated now, resigned to some inevitable and inescapable fate. Which, Kahina supposed, was not too far from the truth of things.
“Of course I don’t know,” she snapped. “I’m not a mind reader. Future Data may inform me what is likely to occur, but it’s not yet capable of attributing motive to the behaviours it predicts. Why did you come?”
“It wasn’t my first choice, but Ilke Dray suggested…” Jecks stopped himself and took a breath instead. Wise man. Kahina could feel the pressure of her fingers closing into tight claws.
“How is dear Ilke these days?” Then she lifted a forbidding hand, forcing the fingers to uncurl, as Jecks opened his mouth to tell her. “No. I really don’t want to know. I’m sure she will be going about her busy little life in her busy little way. And of course you don’t need to tell me why you are here, that much is obvious. What I want to know is what do you have to offer me in exchange for my assistance at this time?”
Jecks wore the look of a man being asked to sell his mother.
“Var Sarava, you can’t seriously intend to turn the security of the Coalition into an auction?”
“Why not? I have what you need, and you can procure it nowhere else. That would seem to me the basis of a price negotiation. I am sure you have authorisation to offer me something or you wouldn’t have come.”
“I can’t reverse the decision of the courts. I can’t turn back the clock and restore your good name. I can’t undo what has happened.” He sounded quite upset about it too.
Kahina got to her feet as gracefully as her age allowed and crossed the room to the antique desk. She loved the smooth feel of the polished wood as she slid her hand beneath it to release a secret catch. It was a wonderfully archaic hiding place. She slipped the data stick into her hand and turned back to Jecks, holding it up for him to see.
“This is everything you need to know to deal with them — if you are willing to pay the price I ask.”
“I’m not authorised to offer you anything.” He sounded in pain.
“Then it’s good that I’m not asking you for any ‘thing’. I have only one demand to make.”
“The head of Ilke Dray?” Jecks suggested, his voice slightly strangled. And, for a moment, Kahina had to wonder if he was being serious. Perhaps he was.
“I have no idea what I might do with such a completely vacuous item,” she told him. “No. I couldn’t care less about Ilke. And the price I’m going to ask isn’t unduly expensive. I merely need to know you will pay it when the time comes.”
“What is it?”
“I want Durban Chola.”
She wasn’t sure if it was relief or appalled amusement that motivated his response. “Chola? What the…? I mean, why?”
“I really rather think that’s my business, don’t you?”
Jecks looked as though he was being forced to swallow a large, irregularly shaped solid object.
“Right. Yes. Of course. I think we can do that.”
It was that easy.
Crossing back to the chairs, she settled herself comfortably again before holding out the data stick to Jecks. He took it as if it were a sacred relic, then busied himself with his links for a few moments as he prepared it to read. She could tell when he had done so. His expression shifted. Hardened.
“This contains nothing. Just two names.”
“That is more than enough for now, I assure you. If you were intelligent enough it would be all you needed, but I am quite aware you will be returning to ask me for further guidance.” It was why she felt so confident that he would pay her price in the end.
Jecks was frowning as if trying to read some deeper meaning into what he had been given.
“One is someone I know quite well and I can see the sense in it, they’ve worked on this before — but who in the name of all sanity is Halkom Dugsdall?”
Kahina, her objective achieved, sat back serenely and smiled.

E.M. Swift-Hook

If you would like to keep reading you can snag a copy of Iconoclast:Mistrust and Treason which is half-price on Kindle this weekend.

The banks of the lake were ablaze with colour and the sheer yellowness of the flag irises seemed to have stolen some of the sunlight and painted it in the grass.

Gillian usually walked with her head down, watching her own small feet and avoiding eye contact with anybody else in the park. But today the sheer beauty tempted her out of her shell, and she smiled at the sandy-haired boy with the scruffy terrier. He smiled back, and his little dog brought her a stick to throw.

A year later she carried yellow irises in her wedding bouquet.

©️jj 2019

We’ve got a lovely bus shelter,
Though, sadly, there’s no bus
The service stopped in ninety-three
And no one made a fuss
We used to have a village pub
A warm, convivial place
They closed the doors one Saturday
And left without a trace
The post office and village shop
Could not be made to pay
So the man took all the stock
And bloody ran away
We have no doctors surgery
No dentist and no vet
We used to have a betting shop
But the middle class don’t bet
We do have Chelsea tractors
And Ocado bringing dairy
We used to be a village
Now we’re just a dormitory

©jj 2019

The Working Title crew bring you the exclusive opportunity to enjoy more wisdom from the mysteriously enigmatic Madam Pendulica...

Aries

This is the month to start spinning and weaving your future plans. Don’t go bleating to your friends when you refuse to follow the flock. You might wind up feeling sheepish if you do.

Taurus

This is one of those times you have to remind yourself that a red flag is not always something to charge at. Do what you are good at, dig in your heels and refuse to be goaded.

Gemini

Don’t be surprised when you are accused of being two-faced. It might make perfect sense to you to hold two completely conflicting ideas at the same time, but normal mortals just don’t understand.

Cancer

Take a sideways look at what’s going on at work this month. It might be a good time to withdraw and hide in your shell until the tide turns.

Leo

You need to pounce on every opportunity this month. Take real pride in your achievements and keep out on the prowl, don’t laze around waiting for things to come to you.

Virgo

Shy and retiring is not the best way to go this month. Save your maidenly outrage for something that really deserves it. Like losing socks in the laundry.

Libra

Feeling unbalanced always tips you over the edge. So take extra care this month to weigh up the pros and cons before you throw your weight behind anyone’s plans.

Scorpio

Much as you want to scuttle under a rock and keep out of the limelight, this month you need to resist turning tail. Strike out for success and inject something dramatic into your life.

Sagittarius

Life seems to be galloping away from you this month. But rein yourself in as you need to keep that energy burst ready for the final furlong.

Aquarius

Troubled waters are bubbling up – maybe through your bathroom floor. This could be the time to splash out on that new water feature you wanted for the garden.

Pisces

Time to scale up your ambitions and get a wiggle on or you will be left high and dry. Don’t flounder, build yourself a solid bass and you’ll be able to skate through those dangerous shoals this month.

Madame Pendulica predicts she will return...

The beach was deserted, and beautiful. Amarinthe threw off her clothes and ran into the breaking surf. She swam out until the cool water sluiced the troubles of the day from her skin and her mind.

The face that broke the surface beside her was moustached and leathery. He eyed her pale curves with interest before tangling a flipper in her hair and swimming downwards with irresistible strength.

She should have been afraid, she knew, but all she could think about was the beauty of the turquoise water as it rushed into her lungs.

They found her clothes next morning.

©️jj 2019

It seemed to Ishbel to have been a very long day, and now it was almost dawn. A number of people sat in Jorg’s tent awaiting the arrival of Lief’s party with its cargo of severed heads. Jorg had himself on a tight rein, but Ana and her maidens kept close in case of any sign of returning Bloodwrath. All at once Jorg’s head came up like a bloodhound scenting meat.
‘They’re close. The party has just met with our first ring of sentries. It should be no more than twenty minutes or so till they arrive.’
‘Who is delivering the heads to House Schiapetti?’ Hugo asked.
‘I thought I’d do it myself.’
‘Not a good idea’ said Jaya sternly ‘there’s no guarantee that you’ll be able to keep a lid on the beast once you are close to the scum who murdered Saira. Let Erik and his big lads have the job. He’d be glad to do it for you, and his men are impressive. And steady.’
Jorg frowned at his mother-in-law, who met his fulminating glance without flinching. After a fraught couple of minutes he looked away. ‘Why is it’ he enquired of nobody in particular ‘that I am surrounded by women who are always right?’
Hugo grinned. ‘I seem to have the same complaint. My sons’ mother didn’t think I could get my shoes on the right foot without her help, and Ishbel only has to look at me a certain way to have me realise I’m being an ass. When you think of all the comfortably stupid milk cows of women there are out there, I guess it must be our own fault. Are we making the wrong choices?’ He spread his hands in a helpless gesture.
Jorg laughed, reluctantly at first, then heartily. ‘OK, I know when I’m beaten. Somebody go wake Erik up and tell him I need him and his boys here now. Better send a woman, that way nobody will get their head cracked open.’ Birgit said ‘I’ll go. That way nobody gets dragged into bed either. I guarantee to have him here in ten minutes.’
True to her word, she returned in rather less than that time with Erik ambling along in her wake looking rather like a bear that had been roused from hibernation.
‘Thunderhand’ he said crossly ‘this had better be important. I need my beauty sleep.’
‘It is, my friend.’ Something in Jorg’s voice alerted Erik’s sleep-fuddled brain, and he came awake with a snap. ‘What do you need?’
‘I need a consignment of severed heads delivering to a house in the city. You know what happened to Saira and the girls.’ His voice broke for a moment, but he struggled on. ‘This is the first instalment of punishment for those responsible.’
Erik laid a huge paw on Jorg’s shoulder. ‘Just give me a minute to rouse my boys and have our horses readied. Then I’ll come back and you can tell me exactly how you want it done.’ He scooted off a lot faster that he’d come in, already bawling orders at the top of his voice.
‘If his life had taken a different course, he’d have done well in the Church Army’ mused Heggar ‘he has the soul of a sergeant major.’
‘Oh indeed’ Jorg agreed ‘but don’t ever tell him that he’d be mortally insulted.’
Silence fell in the tent, but before it had time to be awkward Erik rolled back in, hastily tidying his beard with a small ivory comb. Ishbel motioned him to a low stool and taking the comb from his hand began to re-braid his thick corn-gold locks.
‘Right Jorg, my men are awake and making themselves look impressive. What exactly do you want us to do?’
‘In a very short while, Lief and some friends will be riding in with the heads of the people responsible for the atrocity at the mountain sanctuary. I want you to ride into the city, drop the heads on the doorstep of House Schiapetti, and then ride out again. I’d like there to be a lot of thundering hooves, but not a word from you or your boys. Oh, and take the heads out of the sacks as you drop them. The people in the house need to see what the consignment is, and they won’t be allowed out to look.’
‘OK but I need directions to this house.’
Hugo spoke. ‘Ride straight in through the gate and take the wide tree-lined road facing you. This road leads into a big square with a fountain in the middle. The house you want is the only one wholly on the west side of the square. It’s big and vulgar, and has an ugly marble portico that looks like it’s made of Frankish sausage.’
‘Got it!’ Ishbel finished braiding Erik’s hair and he got up. ‘Thanks Skinny Girl. I’d better go tell the boys the score.’

From The Long Game by Jane Jago

The smell of lavender took her back to France, and the summer when she was seventeen. To the thick stone walls of the old farmhouse that seemed to doze in the thickly scented air. 

And to Marcus with his white blond hair and aristocratic profile.

Marcus, who relieved her of her virginity in the sharp, dusty grass of the neglected garden.

Marcus, to whom she gave her heart in those lavender scented halcyon days.

Marcus, who was old now too. 

Marcus who brought his wife of many years a sprig of lavender with her breakfast and smiled a knowing smile.

©️jj 2019

.... or 'How To Speak Typo' by Jane Jago

aminal (noun) – furry critter that lives in an ozo

arsenule (noun) – pet name of the former Gunners manager

arsonal (adjective) – prone to spontaneous combustion 

beson (noun) – horned animal ridden by brave witches

cgiar (noun) – smoking material rolled on the thighs of retired steelworkers

cosret (noun) – tight undergarment prone to autowedgie

csent (noun) – cheap perfume hugely reminiscent of aerosol flykiller

enlior (noun) – a shy elfin creature that can be found hiding behind a big fat woman with a bad attitude 

exspoe (noun) – experimental novella mixing hard science fiction with pornography and colouring

gebril (noun) – flower hugely valued by florists having the face of a sleeping rodent at its heart

lana (adverb) – of walking, a peculiarity of the gait looking as if there is some obstruction of the rear passage

pino greego (noun) – red wine beloved of motorcyclists 

poage (noun) – wet breakfast comestibles made from toast soaked in gin

radeo (noun) – loud music played during bull riding events

runign (adjective) – of noses the attribute of retaining a dewdrop for many hours 

scrachc (verb) – to poke a bottle brush between the cheeks of one’s bum

tnaks (noun) – dinosaur testicles

wnaky (adjective) – of or pertaining to autoeroticism. Unsuccessful 

zodiak (noun) – street racing vehicle constructed by the uneasy marriage of an elderly Ford car and a go-kart. Characterised by immense instability when cornering and crap brakes

Disclaimer: all these words are genuine typos defined by Jane Jago. The source of each is withheld to protect the guilty.