THE SILVER ELEPHANT

(Here follows the beginning of my latest short story..)

My earliest memory is of a duck pond and a toy sailing ship. I have always loved sailing and the sea. I watched that small ship dancing on the sparkling water.

Then came the mighty roar of a gun, and that ship flew apart into scraps of wood and paper. My uncle came and sat beside me, smoking pistol in hand.

“You got him, Uncle,” I said.

“Only half lad, his vessel, but not his life,” said he.

However, the most distinct memory of my childhood was The Adventure of The Silver Elephant. This was the first time in my eventful youth that I realised that my my uncle, his crew and our enemies- the Ninjas- were not like most people.

It began, many years ago when Uncle Bloodbeard (yes, that was his real name) took me ‘Out East’. That mysterious part of the world, which he called ‘Out East’, was very hot and very dangerous.

The year was 2013. My uncle and his crew were disappointed that the world had not ended in 2012, and needed a seriously good adventure to cheer them up.

“We’re going Out East, lad,’ Uncle Bloodbeard said.

‘Alright Uncle,’ said I.

In those days, I did as I was told.

‘We’re going to find the Silver Elephant,’ he continued.

‘What’s that?’

‘The greatest treasure on Earth.’

Who could say no to that? We jumped on his ship and set sail.

We could, I guess, have flown on a plane, but my uncle does not live that way. So we sailed. It took several months.

Intoxicated Observations of Nature, Part 2

VI

People ought to look at the sky often, it reminds a person of how vast the world is, and how small we are.

VII

Respect nature, because it is stronger than you.

VIII

Love, wealth, power, friends, family... all of these can be taken from you in an instant.

The Earth and Sky cannot be taken from you.
IX
Many days observing a cuckoo chick being raised by a blackbird. The greed of the over-sized chick. Its first flight out of the stolen nest. Nature can be merciless, like man. Yet it is full of function, efficiency... and a little irony.

TREE OF LOST SOULS

This is to be my first published book, Tree of Lost Souls. Out in the autumn this year. Follow the link below for more information.

https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.thewestmorlandgazette.co.uk%2Fnews%2F16207340.Kendal_author_aims_to_raise_thousands_to_publish_ghost_story%2F&h=ATP35RMfZwP1kPHecBUyf4W_Rz9YQKUGw5EYt10bafvS4B9cct30ALh6yW8ZU4FPnZUCXuEyMEQ938iMcVf6HxIbrCpPYbEc0rI00pEf&s=1

Intoxicated Observations on Nature, part 1.

I

Why is it so difficult for modern people to deeply appreciate nature without either going insane or appearing insane to others?

II

It is easy to see why ancient people venerated trees. A fully grown tree is the oldest, largest and strongest living thing which a human can encounter- like a living god.

III

People can be alone but not lonely, or not alone but lonely. In the contemplation of nature, an individual is never alone or lonely

IV

Nothing is permanent. Things may last for eons, but not forever. All things change or fade away.

To attempt to force permanence on a thing is to ruin it. 

Nothing is destroyed because all things change.
V
Sitting on the stump of a once mighty tree reminds a person that one day all things die.
Does a tree feel fear or pain at its death? Does it think of the thousands of seeds it has scattered? does it know regret?
Unlikely.
Remember that one day we too shall die. 

Dragon Rising

   Firecrackers exploded like bursts of machine gun fire as Dragon walked down the crowded streets of Hanoi. After almost a year of felling trees in Laos, he was glad to be home.
   It was New Year's Eve. Tomorrow he would be 16 years old, almost a man.
   A bicycle swerved drunkenly down the street. The rider shouted a greeting and made Dragon simile, then he saw a Japanese soldier standing on the street corner and his smile faded.
   He kept walking, just a few more streets until he would reach his Uncle's house.

   He got to the muddy banks of the massive Red River, where farmers scratched out a living raising oxen or growing vegetables on the flood plains. The huge iron suspension bridge that the French had built loomed in the distance.
   'Not a bad bridge ,' he thought,' I hope they don't come back for it.'
   Then he turned into the alley where his aunt, uncle and five cousins waited for him. They were all that were left of his family. .  
To be continued.

Neil Gaiman's 'Death'.

DEATH, MY LOVER.

DEATH, MY LOVER.

Death, She is my lover,

But we don’t love each other,

I need Her, and She needs me,

Just to be and not to be,

In the end, I know She won’t forget,

Me, and I won’t be able to regret,

Nothing could be left unspoken,

Nothing left broken or unbroken,

Death, She is my endless lover,

We can’t exist without each other.