Music - Jow Bates

Want for new sound,

Press play,

Broken tapes screamed abstract noise into the ether.

It's not listening.

isthissupposedtobewhatitwasiwaslookingfor?

somethingaboutthisdoesn'tfeelright,

it'snotreallymusicisit?

takeawayfromthelifeofbeingabrokenfragmentofwhatcouldhavebeenstuckinsideyourmovement

Unto audible light we stretch out mind and being

Stand between our dulcet tones

Another soul on spectral hearth

Together we are sound.

Music - Rowan James

I was sitting on my boat, it was grey but not cold, in the time of the year when spring, winter and the start of summer collide. The river was gently rocking. Rain was hi -hatting on the fibre glass roof and an occasional surge of tide caused a bass drum thud as the hull singularly beat on the river.
The gentle jingle jangling orchestra of boats rigging created a back ground whirl to natures beat.
I decided to brave the weather which was cold and drizzle icey but had a calming ferocious soundtrack as its effects moved various objects. A milk carton floated up the river and the drops contrasting on it plastic skin could be detected back dropped by those that plopped onto the river surface.
The wind was howling solo until a husky sweet melody rose from the depths of the murky Orwell.
Coloured bubbles popped the surface, as each one emerged and disappeared, sounds of a majestic variation were creating dark nautical break beats.
Now standing on the roof of the boat I looked down to see a chestnut nut glow of flesh, a glimmer of gold chain around a slim neck, and goggles on a head of braided black sea weed wrapped braids . She was swimming in a body popping sway. Loosing myself in the music I started free styling over directing my rhythmical message out past the edge of the boat. With each syllable I expelled into the night sky i could feel the words forming in the atmosphere darting down towards the dull glimmer of streetlights reflected on the surface.
As my words hit the water they formed into two tone black white spheres colliding with the colourful bubbles coming from the mouth of the mysterious creature.

Music - Borealis

We spill out to the forest nights
and fall against your dusted bars
pack our glasses with star-shaped cubes
and empty out the candled jars

Orange - Butters

The reveal of the flesh peels in time
As the white tangs a bitter prevalence.
Passing a moment with nail stabbed indulgence,
The sweet relish of the beginning.

Orange - Fargo

SUSIE OPENS HER FRONT DOOR, SHE LOOKS DOWN TO SEE AN ORANGE FRUIT PLACED DIRECTLY IN THE CENTRE OF HER DOOR MAT. SLIGHTLY PUZZLED SHE PICKS UP THE ORANGE WALK BACK INDOORS AND CLOSES THE DOOR BEHIND HER. SHE WALKS INTO THE KITCHEN AND SITS DOWN AT THE DINING TABLE AND PLACES THE ORANGE IN FRONT OF HER, SHE WEARS A PERPLEXED EXPRESSION. 
SUSIE IS ABOUT TO PEEL THE SKIN OF THIS ORANGE AND JUST AS SHE BEGINS TO DO SO THE PHONE RINGS, INSTANTLY SHE ANSWERS.

Susie: Hello?

Voice: I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

Susie: (Frightened voice) Do what?

Voice: Peel the orange.

Susie: What, why?

Voice: It would kill you. And we wouldn’t want that.

Susie: What? Why would it kill me?

Voice: That there in front of you is no normal orange. In fact I can safely say it hardly performs any of the functions you would expect from an orange that you would buy down the local supermarket. It wouldn’t provide you with taste or juice, it would kill you, and that is all you need to know. For now.

Susie:  (Concern growing) Who are you and what is this all about? Who put it there?

Voice: My name is The Sunshine, and it was I who put it there. I’m going to need to come in and sit down, is this going to be a problem, if so I will come in anyway but won’t be as pleasant company, so I should oblige if I were you.

Susie: (Tears growing in her eyes) What do you want with me, are you going to kill me?

Sunshine: If I wanted to kill you I would of done it already as I’m at your front door, and it wouldn’t take me a second. So out of politeness will you let me in, I can assure you your in safe hands.

HE HANGS UP THE PHONE. SUISE THEN FRIGHTENED OUT OF SKIN, AND SHAKING SLOWLY WALKS  OVER TO THE FRONT DOOR, SHE SLOWLY OPENS IT WHERE SHE FINDS A MAN IN A LONG COAT AND A HAT, SMOKING A PIPE. HE SLOWLY WALKS IN AND CLOSES THE DOOR, SHE WALKS BACK TO THE KITCHEN TABLE AND SITS DOWN IN FRONT OF THE ORANGE, HE SITS OPPOSITE.

Sunshine: Now that wasn’t too hard was it?

Susie: What is this orange? And why are you here?

Sunshine: I’m here because you were chosen Susie, by The People Of The Sun, and we are here to show you the path you must go down. We have been looking over you for a while, these oranges grown from a farm on the planet at the other end of the universe, and we use them to watch over the Chosen ones, which there are only few. We make sure you go down the path set for you, until its time for your new beginning, but unfortunately due to an administration error you missed a certain path that was going to set you on your way to our planet, in a bid to rid the universe of the great evil that is plaguing it even as we speak, so I have had to intervene. You are special Susie, and I know this may be a lot to take in but it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. For that I can only apologise, and if you wish to make a complaint, I have some forms to fill in and we can sort out some compensation. But that may have to wait.

Susie: Is this for real Sunshine?

Sunshine: Yes I’m afraid so, you have always been important, did you think it was really circumstance that led you to be a women in your 20’s living on your own with no job. No that was us.

Susie: Oh thanks!

Sunshine: We needed you to do these things, be in this position so the transition wouldn’t be as difficult for you to cope with. You have no life here, but with what you capable of on our planet, the rulers of the universe, is so much more, you can live a longer life achieve things you could never achieve, travel through space and time.

Susie: This is all too much.

Sunshine: Come with me and I can show you. 

Susie: How do you get here? How are we getting there?

Sunshine: (Picks up the orange) With this Susie, it’s a tracking device that teleports us to our main ship. Which is parked in Cornwall.

Susie: Cornwall?

Sunshine: Yes we needed room, it’s a rather larger orange spaceship!

Susie: I can’t just leave.

Sunshine: We control the universe, you can, we just like to ask permission before we make things happen, we are people persons!

Susie: Your going to need to prove it first.

SUNSHINE GRABS HER HAND AND HE THEN TOUCHES THE ORANGE AND THEN WITHIN SECONDS OF WHAT FELT LIKE DRAMATIC MOTION SICKNESS, THEY APPEAR IN CORNWALL, NEXT TO A VERY BIG ORANGE.

Sunshine: How’s that for proof?

Susie: (Amazed) Ok, I’m having a rather strange Wednesday. (Pause) Ha orange Wednesdays.

Sunshine: Come Susie, join me in my orange.

Orange - CammyWhite

Orange! Why where his hands painted orange?! He had to admit this wasn't what he'd been expecting to wake up to. He stumbled into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on, closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the fridge until he heard the water boil. Without even opening his eyes he reached for a cup, some instant coffee and the sugar. After the first sip he felt it was about time he should probably see what state the rest of the place was in. With coffee in one hand he stumbled back down the narrow corridor to the livingroom. Slowly he started recalling the previous evenings antics. There'd been a lot of beer, and far too much whiskey, then there was the club and a few too many trips to the bathroom to partake in various other party supplies. And then him and a few friends had come back to continue the party. But thats where it all got a bit fuzzy, it had been a pretty crazy week, catching up with old friends whilst flat sitting for his brother after being out of town for far too long. Slowly he pushed the living room door open and afound himself being looked at by loads of eyes, not the eyes of the people in the room, they were all passed out on the 2 sofas but huges orange eyes drawn all over the walls. Slowly he lifted his hands as if there was some doubt that the paint no there would match the paint on the walls and it was at just that moment when he heard a key turning in the front door and the giggle of his brothers new wife as they arrived home from their honeymoon..

Orange - Jow Bates

White light seeped in through the tryptic frame of their window. 

Wheeling his suitcase through the dust covered floorboards of the unused Spanish villa.

Upon arriving...

She swayed drunkenly in front of the of the large, rich canvas beaming out from the centre of the gallery. It was her first exhibition and she had been nervous, her boyfriend offered to console her, but she had opted for two bottles of the fifty she had paid for in preparation for her private view. The wine in her glass sloshed wildly with her erratic gesticulation as she explained her piece to the bemused crowd she was gathering.

"Art isn't hard." she slurred.

"It's flamboyantly trying to make something look nice, then explaining why it doesn't. When the paint doesn't sit right you just smear it, declaring it an act of expression, you'll end up with a distinct style whatever you do, whoever you copy. People tend to see what they want to see, such is the disingenuous narcissism of your target audience. Capturing the light just right. Proving your talent with a series of hastily thrown together sketches that display an eye for movement. Leaving unfinished work open to interpretation, declarative of the expected connotation, involving the audience, bringing them closer to misunderstanding the substantial nothing you've sold them. Less is more, ideas are substance, art is everything and people are fucking idiots. Another orange smear on the canvas, another work of art." Her vision blurred and she stumbled. 

"You're only wasting your own time."

The Moscow Metro is the second busiest subway system in the world, averaging 6.6 million passengers every day. 

Kaluzhsko-Rizhskaya Line

Roman stood uncomfortably.

Rain swept the copper coloured rust from the shed's ailing roof and down onto his collar.

Enough is writing, explorative.

Simplicity is hard.

Coming up with something. Anything?

Astonishing.

Orange - Dogmatix

Yes the future's bright
You know when you've been tango'd
The future's is orange

Orange - Philip Farmer Banham

orange?? really?? i have a zipper jacket thats orange. more orange that orange skittles. ive not tried eating it, but it probably tastes better han orange skittles. back to the cup of tea by the window, then more secret of mana. win.

Orange - Beau

Why is it that chicks 

With no personality

Have got orange skin?

Orange - Scott French

The bits are the best bits.


Fin.

Whiskey - Jow Bates

"I fucking love whiskey."
Too many words sprang to mind, I left, lopsided and broken from the table. My hands were sticky from spilt drink and my head span with whiskey. I couldn't focus as I stumbled down the corridor, bouncing between the walls and displacing the pictures hanging there. I made my way to the front door animatronically, not thinking, just moving. I fell through the frame as the door swung to the apex of it's hinges before snapping back on itself to seal me outside. Cold began to seep in to my clothes and I coughed sickly, expelling stale smoke from my lungs. I picked myself up to get moving, clasping the arms of my coat, pulling myself in to ward off cold, the stars swam above me dizzyingly, constalations erupting into motion picture. I could taste old whiskey in the back of my mouth and found time between my broken stumbling from street lamp to roadsign to stop and heave its taste from my throat.
"I fucking hate whiskey."

Whiskey - Philip Farmer Banham

Working all night for minimum wage... No chance of a wisky then.

Whiskey - Beau

When babies get frisky
Dip a dummy in whiskey
If a girl gets bitchy
Buy her drinks 'till she's tipsy

If you chug from a cask
You might fall on your ass
If you swallow some bourbon
Your car might be swervin'

If you drink too much Grouse
You might lose your house
Drink enough J.D.
And you'll never see 80

But if there's one thing I know, It's how to have fun
And I'll have no regrets on the day that I'm gone
Friends and family will cry, and probably miss me
But I went out with a bang, having fun drinking whiskey

Late - Pumpkin Sheepshanks

Rushing so much it was a struggle to stay on his feet, Steve made it to the venue with 5 minutes to spare. He registered, and got told to wait until he was called as the promoters were waiting for more people and performers to arrive. Halfway through his cigarette he was called from outside and said he was on. He thought it odd that there were no other smokers, comedians normally chainsmoke before going on but he hadn't seen anyone. It was strangely quiet as he went to the stage wing. The promoter was now the Stage manager, and counted down with his hands and signalled for Steve to take the stage.
Walking out to the house brights turned to maximum Steve heard a solitary clap. Tough crowd.
"Hi, Hello, Well" Said steve, trying to get a feel for the room as his vision failed with the intense spotlight. He continued "How are we tonight?" Nothing. not a motion. or a whisper. "Guess you all must be tired from a long days work." This was a personal joke, this was a non descript town in north England, Steve was sure none of them worked. "I lost my job... I know where I left it... In the past... they told me my timekeeping is atrocious, I said 'I know, I keep giving it all to you..." Nothing. What happened to the solitary clap guy? With his vision returning he made out a row of empty chairs, empty space, and a cleaner in the background. 
"What the..." Steve couldn't even finish his sentance.
"Open mic night was last night bruv, but thanks for mildly entertaining me and the cleaner" said the promoter.
"You not funny" shouted the cleaner from afar.

Late - Jow Bates

21:42

He should have been here a while ago now. Passing traffic blurred into constant streams of red and yellow light, partially luminating the otherwise dark street. The sky had been threatening to rain all night and though still dry, the evening had a weighted feel about it, teetering on the edge of the climactic, truth be told it was a little disconcerting. 

As minutes faded through hours into an indefinite span of waiting Jono stood, back resting against the dirtied wall of the long closed video shop, checking his mobile for nothing in particular.

!WHEREAREYOUMATE::

Jono fell back into the wall losing all grip on his physical presence, matter embracing his being.

?!WHERETHEFUCK%!

He fell apart, exploding into disassembly like a party popper of bosonic streamers.

:21:21:21:

42becauseitwasntsupposedtobethiseasyyouwerenttheretostopmefallingthroughmeaningimstucknowwaitingforyouwaitingformebetweentimeicanfeeltheglitterofunambiguousquarksfillingtheether

21:56

I'LLBETHEREINAMINUTE?

Jono checked through the messages on his phone, looking for a sign that he was in the right place.

22:06

Late - Beau

I went on the Jeremy Kyle show
My baby mama showed up
She used more diplomacy than I did
So I was told to "Grow up."

But hold up;
I take precautionary measures with this stuff
I play rough, 
But I always caught my jizz in a latex cup

I had my doubts
When she told me she was "late"
I was justified in my allegations because of text messages from my mates

So I came onto the stage and seperated the chairs
Never would have happened if I'd pushed her down the stairs

Late - Scott French

BRB


Fin

Late - Tom Swarman

why are you alway late, i have been waiting here since 9, you left me here in the ouring rain with no coat, why did you call me to say you were on the drag i ould have gone else where but no!!!!

why dont you get your self a watch that works or set the time on your phone for fucksake,

so what are we gonna do its to late to hitup the cinema and they have already called last orders in the pub

what, no i dont wanna go to yours,

its to lae for that

look why are we still up its to late i need some sleep

The Call - D'oh

*RING* *RING* *RING* *RING*

Samantha: “Hello?” a small voice answers

John: “Why hello there, who might you be?” Says the man

Samantha: “Samantha”

John: “Hello Samantha, can I call you Sam?”

Samantha: “Ok, that’s what everyone calls me anyway”

John: “You have a very pretty name Sam. My name is John”

Samantha: “Do you want to talk to my mummy?”

John: “I’d much rather talk to you Sam”

Samantha: “err..ok”

John: “How old are you Sam?”

Samantha: “10 and a half”

John: “Wow, 10 and a half. Do you go to school?”

Samantha: “I do”

John: “What’s your favourite thing about school?”

Samantha: “I like the playground, it’s a lot of fun”

John: “Oh, I bet it is, what’s your favourite thing to play on in the playground?”

Samantha: “I like the swings, but only when my friend Jessie pushes me”

John: “I like the swing too. I have one in my backyard, and I’m really great at pushing people on the swing”

Samantha: “I wish I had one in my backyard”

Samantha’s mother: <calls out from another room> “Sam, who’s on the phone hunny?”

Samantha: “Mum is calling for me, do you want to talk to her?”

John: “No sweetie, I want to talk to you. Tell her no one’s on the phone and that you’re going to your room to play”

Samantha: “Uuum… I don’t know”

John: “Oh go on, it’ll be fun. We can talk about all sorts of stuff”

Samantha: “Well…ok” <Samantha calls out to her mother> “No one’s on the phone ma, I’m going to my room to play”

John: “Atta girl”

Samantha: “So, who are you?”

John: “Well, my name is John. I work for a company that advertises in magazines, and I’m looking for some young models to be in our next big issue”

Samantha: “So why have you called here?”

John: “Well, as my new best friend, I think you’d be perfect for it”

Samantha: <laughs> “I’m not a model, I’m not even pretty”

John: “But you sound very pretty to me, I bet you are. Can you describe yourself to me Sam?”

Samantha: “Umm… I don’t know. I’m not very tall”

John: “At 10 and a half years old, I don’t expect you to be very tall”

Samantha: “I have brown eyes, short brown hair”

John: “You sound perfect! Just what we’re looking for”

Samantha: “Really?”

John: “Uh huh”

Samantha: “I think I better ask my mum”

John: “No, don’t do that. Let’s just keep this between us”

Samantha: “How come?”

John: “Your mum miight not let you do this, and I really want you to do this…
Don’t you want to do this?”

Samantha: “I guess”

John: “Now Sam, tell me what kind of clothes do you like wearing, you know, just so we know what kind of clothes will suit you during the photoshoot”

Samantha: “Umm, I dunno. I usually just wear t-shirts and jeans. Mum makes me wear dresses when we go somewhere nice, but I hate it”

John: “haha… that’s quite alright, we won’t make you wear dresses. So, umm… what do you prefer to wear under your clothes?”

Samantha: “Excuse me?”

John: <His tone of voice changes> “What kind of underwear do you like wearing Samantha?”

Samantha: “Umm.. I dunno mister. I don’t think I want to be modeling underwear”

John: “We just need to know so that we can fit you into something you’re comfortable wearing, that’s all. Do you like lacey ones?”

Samantha: “Uuuum.. I’m not sure”

John: “What are you wearing right now?”

Samantha: “I dunno. Are you sure you need to know all this?”

John: “Yes yes, it’s very important”

Samantha: “If you want me to be comfortable, can’t I just wear my own underwear?”

John: “I guess you could”

Samantha: “Eeeerm, mister?”

John: “Yes dear?”

Samantha: “If mum can’t know about this? Than how am I going to be your model?”

John: “Well, I can always come to you, maybe pick you up from somewhere?”

Samantha: “You can do that?”

John: “Sure I can”

Samantha: “Mum is letting me stay over at Jessie’s house over the weekend, can you come over there?”

John: “Well, doesn’t that work out just dandy, maybe your friend Jessie might like to join in on the fun too?”

Samantha: “She might like that alot, she does like to dress up. Will it take very long?”

John: “No more than an hour or so, I’ll have you back in no time. Just let me know where I can pick you up from”

Samantha: “My friend Jessie lives on Prospect Lane, in Surrey Hills, on the corner. I’m not sure of the number, but their house has a red door”

John: “Very good, I will wait there for you kids in my car at say, noon? tomorrow?”

Samantha: “Sure mister”

John: “Great! I cannot wait to meet you in person. Oh and Sam, remember, not a word to anyone about this”

Samantha: “Ok mister, see you soon” <Sam hangs up the phone and pauses for a moment before yelling out at the top of her lungs> “MUUUUUUUUUUUM!!!”