Coops Cakes and Booth BooksThe sun beat down on Boothville as I strutted across the cobbles of a back street in town. People scurried about, some nodding and smiling as I passed, others too busy with their own business to notice me. Looking up, I saw a camera watching the street. For some reason, it didn’t make me feel concerned. It made me feel safe, protected, watched by a friend. I resisted the urge to blow it a kiss.I stopped outside a bakery – Coops Cakes written in curly green lettering on the shop front – and pressed my nose against the window. There were rows upon rows of cakes, biscuits and other treats. Little gingerbread men all rested in a
Welcome to BoothvilleSomewhere in an unnamed country, lies a small town that many people know nothing about. Surrounded by hills and mountains to the north, forest to the west, ocean to the east and swamps to the south, the little town remains undisturbed, completely self-sufficient and safe from the horrors of the rest of the world.A grand, nine-storey castle looms large from a hill to the north, overlooking the rest of the town, casting a shadow over the vineyards of the foothills. The shaman’s hut rests at the end of the largest field, a dilapidated little tent that the vineyard owners wish would move.Two large housing estates – one to the east a
Well Dressed BoyThere’s nothing about him to mark him as specialThat well dressed boy in old London townA dapper young chap, just minding his ownIn polished black shoes, makes a clacking soundHe coats his legs in skin-tight jeansThey might as well be painted onA vision in white and black and greyLike a Photoshop painting in monochromeExpertly tousled, his hair defines physicsThe wind never dares move a single strandHe wears large black glasses, you can’t see his eyesAnd he carries a large, neat briefcase in handYet despite his good looks and aloof demeanourHe’s not that special, not one of a kindJust another one of
BulldogI always thought that the reasoning of it was pretty pathetic but no one ever commented on that. It was a standard tradition that had gone on for years, and probably the most epic sight I shall ever see in my lifetime.You see, our common room had just two sofas and they were positioned nicely in front of the TV, with easy access to the old-school games console. A throne for sixth form royalty. I’m told that seven or eight years ago, arguments about which clique got the sofas escalated to such a level that some of the students decided to do things democratically.British Bulldog was the only way.At the beginning of each term – o
Some Dance To Remember...Some dance to remember, some dance to forget. Tonight, I was dancing to forget. My right hand clasped his left and I guided his hip around the room as we moved in time to the music. His blue eyes shone out of the darkness, lighting up his whole face. I couldn’t help but smile as he looked at me, our eyes joined by an invisible bond I didn’t want to break.“I shouldn’t be here,” I said, and although I knew the words were true, I couldn’t stop dancing. I was even leading – it had been my idea to dance. What was I doing? My girlfriend sat at home and here I was dancing with the most handsome man I’d ever
Mr BrightsideIt started out with a kiss. How did it end up like this? It was only a kiss.It was only a kiss.We had met back in the summer of 2005 at a party held by a mutual friend. There was a barbecue and it was populated by people of the age somewhere between university and marriage. The floating masses, those who still were in the mindset of a student but knew they should be further ahead.In our heads, as children, we sometimes imagine we will be married and settled by this age. My parents married and had my older sister when they were nineteen. I guess I assumed the same would be true for me, although, as I’d aged, I’d thought childre
Holding Out For The DoctorWhere have all the Time Lords gone and where are all the Ood?This absence of the aliens has put me in a mood!Isn't there a TARDIS shooting through the universe?Late at night I dream of how I'll break his lonely curse.I need the Doctor!I'm holding out for the Doctor till the end of all time He's gotta be smart and he's gotta be braveAnd he's gotta be tenth of his kindI need the Doctor!I'm holding out for the Doctor to put everything rightHe's gotta be wise and he always looks goodWith a spaceship that's bigger insideBigger insideOn the planet Midnight Or in nineteen twenty-threeThere's a man with a screwdriverWh
Dailybooth FTWFacebook was king for a whileIts smooth layout would make us smileThen it got too clogged with appsEveryone said, “This is crap”LJ, Wordpress, blogs on topEmos took them, would not stopMySpace thought it held the crownTwitter came and knocked it downEnter Tumblr to the raceWith its simple interfaceNow they’re in the past, not all websites lastAnd we’ve got something newA site that’s just adored by every camera whoreAnd we all know what to doNow we’re showing what we read, or what we look like still in bedIt’s all blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blahWe leave comments by the
Oh DailyBoothIt was 2009, my thoughts were short, my hair was longBored with nothing very much to doI’d climbed a dozen trees and watched a thousand DVDsIt was hell living with nothing fun to doMy books, they’d all been finishedMy phone was out of minutesMy life was dull, I felt such great despairSo I logged on the InternetAnd man I never will forgetThe site that greeted me when I got thereAnd now we’re all completely hookedSnapping pets and food and booksSharing love online through all of our photographsDrinking ketchup out the bottle, can’t wait until tomorrowSaying I’m not gonna leave you, oh DailyBo
"Doctor", Parody of "Starman"Another lonely night in Leadworth by myselfNothing to do, I was bored you know ow owThis crack was scarin' me, something bout Prisoner Zero it saidThen a loud sound, then a man (not ginger)Made me cook him up custard and fish fingersThat weren't no policeman, this was something much more weirdThere's a Time Lord waiting in the skyHe's coming down to meet usBut I think he'll blow our mindsThere's a Doctor waiting in the skyHe took me on his spaceshipSaid he'd need me for a whileHe tells me:"I've heard children cryingTo save them all I'm tryingAnd just this once, not lying."He took me up and showed me everything
Watched by a godA god sat on his throne of clouds and observed the world beneath him. This was one of his least favourite planets, a pathetic little blob of green and blue in an old-fashioned section of the universe. He didn't know why he'd chosen to watch them, barely paying attention, the way they watched their televisions.The inhabitants had named it Earth, but it was known by a much more offensive name in ethereal circles.The natives here, a mostly sapient race called humans, had messed up. Many planets had races that had failed, but few had failed as dramatically as the humans. While other cultures explored the limits of knowledge and scientific adv
Xanthic LightAlice and Edward stepped closer together, examining one another in the streetlight. Both of them had aged since they'd last seen one another and looked curiously the same but so different."Can you believe it's been fifteen years?" Edward said, raising his hand to stroke Alice's hair."Don't," she said. "Edward, please don't do this.""Fifteen years," he said again. "Great Scott, you can't tell me that the feelings aren't still there, even after all this time." He begged her to agree with him."I can't," she said, refusing to look at him now he was so close. Just run, she thought. Kicking herself inside, she wondered why she had agreed to
Deceased - IIIDying hurts, and don't let anyone tell you any different. People bang on about how, "Oh, he died peacefully in his sleep" and shit like that but don't believe a word of it. OK, my death was violent anyway – nothing prepares you for being catapulted through a windscreen – but I've spoken to people up here who've died in their sleep and apparently it's no less painful. It's something to do with the soul having to be ripped from the body – "ripped" being the key word here.On the whole though, once you've gone through that, it's actually quite peaceful. I thought I'd be worrying non-stop about the people I've left behind but as i
Painter - IIWith Josh gone, I don't know what to do anymore. I know we were together for just eleven months, but it felt so right. I guess it always feels right at the beginning – if it didn't, you wouldn't press on. Art is my final class of the day but I'm not really with it. We're supposed to be painting the still life in front of us – a mish-mash of fabrics, fruit, stuffed birds and the top half of a mannequin – but my mind isn't on it. Everyone has made some progress but I still have a pure white canvas staring back at me.I pick up a paintbrush and continue to think about Josh. It's been a week now. I had a few days off school for it
Grapevine - IYou'll never guess what I heard! No, wait, I mean it! I shouldn't even really be gossiping about it but I had to tell someone. Do you remember Pete? You know, Pete thingy? The one who was going out with Tina but they broke up when she slept with his brother? You must remember! Think back, it was huge news like, last month. No, two months ago. I don't know. Yeah?No, well anyway, you remember his mate Duncan? Oh you must know! You'd know him if you saw him – he's the one who got really wasted at Anne's eighteenth? Jumped on the table and declared himself King of the Lesbians? Long hair? Anyway, never mind him, it's his brother, Josh. You
I wake up.I wake up.I'm on a dark desert highway and I don't remember how I got here. There are a few stars in the sky but no moon and not enough light to guide me. I reach into my pockets and pull out a torch, but with nothing for the light to bounce off, I cannot tell how far I am from anything.I begin to walk, and I walk for several hours, or maybe days, or maybe just a couple of minutes. I arrive at a house with lights burning from every window. I knock on the door and the wood sounds like metal. There is a clank and a clang and the door opens slightly.An old woman's face looks out at me. She screams something in a language I don't understand
Letter To The Future21st July 2010To Whom It May Concern:If you have found this letter, congratulations. I am writing this in the year 2010 and hopefully, nuclear war permitting, it will have reached you in the year 2110. The language I am writing in is English which, while I assume will still be a dominant language in one hundred years time, may have been killed off by the Chinese.2110 sounds so futuristic, but once upon a time 2010 sounded like that, yet here I am. It's weird to think that this year is now history to you, the way we look back at 1910 and think they were a bit backwards. You probably think that about us.It's 41 years since humans first
Excerpt: 2117The first noise I heard in one hundred years was a gentle hiss. I felt dizzy and realised that I was lying on cool marble table wearing only shorts. There was a mask over my mouth, feeding me oxygen. I turned my head gently to the side and noticed that the mask was connected to a tube, which fed down into a small glass dome. Inside the dome was what appeared to be a bonsai rainforest.What I presumed to be a clock was on the wall just above it, although it was hard to tell. It had no hands but instead four circles of various sizes were in place beneath the numbers, one of them ticking with what I presumed were seconds. One was moving too fas
Character Study: Jazz ClubLively jazz music plays. The club is dark, square lights allowing for just enough vision through the fug. You can almost see the music circle the clientele. Three people sit in the corner booth, all of them smiling and laughing together.The first is Dexter Ruggles; dressed in a black shirt, black trousers, black ankle boots and a black trilby balanced on his black hair. Just a slim white tie adds colour to the ensemble. He laughs loudly, baring straight teeth, nostrils flaring. He's a writer, a novelist (one book published) who also works as a waiter. He's happy with his lot and his friends.The second is Rebecca Lowe; dressed in a white t
Harrison's New FriendsHarrison was four years old and, like most four year olds, was in the middle of a very important task. In the case of this particular four year old, he was digging in the mud with a stick. His mother was sitting on the park bench a few metres away, engrossed in a phone call on her Blackberry, only vaguely watching her son.Harrison was a handsome young lad with eyes as blue as sapphires and a mop of thick blonde hair. He was wearing his new green winter coat that his grandma had bought him for Christmas and a pair of Bob the Builder gloves. It was the first time he'd been to the park since Christmas as it had been so cold.Harrison was a cl
Ode to MagikarpMagikarp with fins so whiteYellow crown, face froze in frightOn the end of every fishing rodAnd for evolution, thou are most oddIn battle you are detrimentalYou cause great losses, drives us mentalBut reach a level past nineteenAnd you're a wonder to be seenFor Gyarados, your new name isIn battle, a much stronger fizzBut every trainer stoops to begWhy can't Gyarados alone come from the egg?
Harry EntwhistleHarry Entwhistle wrapped two wedding rings in a handkerchief and tucked it down the side of the suitcase. The suitcase was genuine leather, from the 1930s, and in very good condition. It would be worth a bit of money too, if he could sell it. But then, what would he carry his things in?He zipped up the suitcase and closed the lock. He slipped the key into the inside pocket of his jacket, turned around and sighed. He looked at himself in the Edwardian mirror opposite, the intricate carvings on the wood frame interesting him far more than the pockmarked, puffy face that was reflected back at him. He smoothed down his comb over and busied hims
Three SaintsIt all started when we were about eight, after a lesson by Mrs Thaxter about patron saints. We looked at saints like Saint Florian, the patron saint of firefighters, and Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travellers and Saint Martha, the patron saint of homemakers.After that class, Dennis, Bruce and myself went into the playground and discussed it, wondering what we would be patron saints of. Dennis said he was Saint Dennis, patron saint of chocolate biscuits, football, scabs and dogs. Bruce went with Pokémon cards, wasp stings, pretty girls who play netball and sunny days for Saint Bruce. I chose mine last, wanting four things tha
The Ghost of Vic MorrowAll throughout Boothville, there were rumours of a ghost. Everyone claimed to have seen it. Gossip Guy claimed to have seen it in while tending to the grapes in his vineyard. Ferry said they'd seen it one night while taking a moonlit stroll down past Goldeen Lake. Quiquito had been studying the night sky when it flew past his telescope. Even King Jon was said to have seen it lurking in the chambers of his castle.The sightings became more and more frequent and soon everyone decided that something had to be done. Gossip Guy gathered some people together in his bookshop to decide on what they should do. He had to kick out one person who tried
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