Friday Flash Fiction

31 08 2007

This post has moved. You can read it here:

By Neil Beynon

The rain fell in syncopated rhythm on the uneven shingle shore and hammered mercilessly into the water of the river as the man watched. His hair hung in long dark wet strands around his face and neck, his face a mask oblivious to the storm about him as he bent slowly to drop the flower on the edge of the river.

The rose hung for a moment on the surface as if contemplating the man as he straightened, then finding nothing of interest it shot into the centre of the river, the current carrying it past a piece of rusting scaffolding. The man’s eyes remained on the rusting pipe-work whilst the flower rushed onwards towards the ocean.

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Happy Birthday E

31 08 2007

Apparently some famous bird died ten years today.

You and I know that today has a far more important significance than that. Today we celebrate E’s 24th year on this planet. E has had comedic dramas on three continents, impressive huh?

Happy Birthday E!

PS – E is my sister – I have not embraced narcotics despite all evidence to the contrary.

Space sponsored by Jack Daniels

30 08 2007

Yesterday Nasa announced they were considering limited testing of employees, including astronauts, for alcohol. That’s right astronauts.

Who in their right mind straps themselves to a fuel tank containing 1.68 million pounds of highly explosive fuel in a vessel that’s only protection consists of foam tiles that will be by struck extremely sharp debris during lift off.

Why on earth would they want a drink?


30 08 2007

I recently came across some tracks from Ape, a band I do not know personally although I know someone who does, and they really are rather good.

If you like indie you good do worse than checking it out at:


Life is like a flat pack

29 08 2007

It occurred to me, given the number I have to assemble, that life bears more than a passing resemblance to a flat pack:

  • The instructions are often absent or have no relation to what you are trying to do.
  • You’re never able to do it entirely on your own.
  • You spend at least as much time contorting yourself into odd positions and then trying to get yourself out of them as you do putting things together.
  • The end result often seems arrived at by accident and rarely bares any resemblance to the plan on the box.
  • It will fall apart at the slightest breeze.
  • Everyone else’s looks better than yours.
  • And invariably there are always a few screws loose…


28 08 2007

My suggestion for a themed Friday Flash Fiction went down well. Everyone seemed to be up for it but I’m unsure how to proceed from here – do you want me to suggest one or should we defer to GLP (originator of the meme)?

I think it may be too late for this Friday but how about we shoot for the 7th September…oooh we could do the seventh son? (…kidding it’s on my itunes as I type…).

Anyway answers on a postcard…or better on the comments or on your own blogs if you prefer (I’m easy). If you want me to do it then I’ll post suggestions with my entry this week.

If you’re wondering who I’m talking about the fellow flash fictioneers are:
Gareth D. Jones, Paul Raven, Shaun C. Green, Martin McGrath and the originator Gareth L. Powell. All talented, all well worth a look. Consider yourselves tagged guys 🙂

Incidently any ladies want to join the fray? We’re looking a bit like Gentleman’s only club here.

Meet Desra

27 08 2007

Ok slightly random post but I found something cool (although no doubt others have been there first).

The Golden Compass (eek who renamed Pullman’s masterpiece?) the first installment of Philip Pullman‘s His Dark Materials Trilogy is due out later this year. Lord knows what the filmic world will do to Pullman’s biting but enjoyable attack on C.S.Lewis however the marketing bods have hit on the obvious but nonetheless cool idea of a daemon generator.

Clearly I had to try it.

Meet Desra my daemon:


I was prepared for something uncool, a skunk maybe but instead I got a snow leopard. Cool. G was impressed anyway.

The Bourne Ultimatum

26 08 2007

Bourne Ultimatum 3
After yesterday’s Ikea debacle I felt in need of some relaxation so G and I went to see the third installment of the Bourne films. I’m a huge fan of the films and it is one of the rare instances where I actually think the films surpass the books, by a long way at that.

I remember winning a copy of the 2nd book in the trilogy and being so disappointed at the quality of both the prose as well as the tragically dated plot. I went back to read the first book, same thing. I didn’t bother with the third: the books left me cold.

For a bibliophile like me that’s heresy.

The Bourne Ultimatum is Matt Damon‘s third outing as the troubled Jason Bourne and director Paul Greengrass‘s second time behind the helm. I have to admit I wasn’t sure where they would go with film after killing off Franke Potente’s character in The Bourne Supremacy. Potente provided a lot of the heart in the first film and her death in the second film gave good impact to the second act but left the third a little cold for me.

I needn’t have worried. Greengrass delivers a slick, taught, thriller that keeps you on the edge of your seat from beginning to end and has some of the most gorgeously crafted action sequences committed to film in recent years. As with the other films the violence is seen to have consequences, there is no glib shrugging off of fights here, no pithy one liners following killings. The message is clear: Violence is pain, killing is hard, visceral and tragic.

Matt Damon delivers a convincing performance even managing to hold his own with Albert Finney although had that scene been allowed to continue any longer I feel the difference in calibre would have become more apparent. Fortunately Greengrass shows his skill in resuming the action at just the right moment.

It is an intelligent, well crafted film that asks questions about the current climate without pulling punches on the action. Big up to a cast that really delivers: Matt Damon, Albert Finney, Julia Stiles and David Strathairn.

The real success however is Paul Greengrass. One to watch I feel.


25 08 2007

The first level of hell you are prepared for your journey with the gristle of dead animals rolled into balls marinated in their own juices for millennia. This meal you will eat serenaded by strange goblins that jabber loudly and laugh hysterically your attempts to find your way out.

If you really want to you can drink brown coloured water. I wouldn’t.

Descend if you dare, followed still by the shrieking goblins to the fetid heat and neon glow of the second level. It smells faintly of pine, glue and chipboard. Should you make it out of that maze then we have more sights to show you.

Stay with me yet.

The entrance to the third level you will know from the wall of cool air that will feel like a lover’s breath on your neck, enjoy this brief fleeting pleasure for there will be no more. Amongst the steel and the concrete you will be made to do manual labour till your bones ache, your knuckles bleed and you are nothing but a gibbering wreck.

Next the goblins shall run amongst you, shrieking, shrilly accompanying you as you are stripped of all worldly wealth. By now your will is weak, your constitution gone. There is more.

The burdens you have carried through the depths you must now secure for your return to the real world and, unless of course you have a TARDIS, you must go, quietly now for you do not want to disturb The Attendant, to them that will help you.

Hush lest the goblins start again, all done…? Good.

Now leave, leave while you still have breath in your lungs and blood in your heart. Look back as you enter the cool air of the surface, the dark dome of night above you where sunlight once caressed your back as you entered the pit.

Note the name, never to return, the letters tall and lit up against the dark:


Home of the devil.

Friday Flash Fiction

24 08 2007

This story has moved. Read it here:

by Neil Beynon

In the beginning there was darkness.

Dude you’re weird.

Now it’s just dark. I can remember before it happened, I shouldn’t be able to surely – can you?

I can remember before I was born.

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