“Domnhall Ciaran O’Malley: what is this?”
Dom looked up at me and grinned cheerfully, not picking up on the exasperation bleeding through in my use of his full name. This was either wilful ‘I’m going to bring you round in the end’ obfuscation, or it was ‘this is such a grand idea that no-one could possibly find anything wrong with it’ optimism. With Dom, it was hard to tell which, and could be both.
“It’s the flyer for our new business!” You could almost see the enthusiasm congealing on the walls, there was so much of it sloshing about.
“I’ve ordered ten thousand”, he said – and you could hear the leprechauns tuning up their fiddles for a ceilidh in the way he said it, “and I’ve been looking at the costs of getting them delivered. In the grand scheme of things we can afford it, but we might want to deliver them ourselves, for the exercise like. We could take half each and then look in at the ‘Dog and Duck’ for some rejuvenation after.”
I sighed. The flyer was the result of a slightly drunken conversation that we’d had the Friday before. As with all such conversations, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, and in the face of 10,000 flyers advertising the idea, it seemed…less so. Also, as with such conversations, Dom had acted as if the matter was settled. I had clearly failed to a) pick up on how much the idea meant to him and b) follow up with him quickly enough to squash the idea.
PIGS MIGHT FLY – BUT WE’LL DEFINITELY GET YOUR STUFF DELIVERED ON TIME. The text was in fuschia on an aquamarine background, with a logo of an angelic looking pig holding a parcel. This was wrong. Wrong on so many levels.
Dom looked up at me hopefully, a bit like a puppy standing in the wreckage of a living room and waiting for a treat.
I sighed again.
©David Jesson, 2018
Pigs might fly
“If the doctor was the killer she would have to have been in two places at once. It’s impossible” Jen said. She sat leaning forward on her brown leather sofa. It was a two-seater, bulky which swallowed you whole if you leaned back into it. A comfortable sofa. Jen was far from comfortable. Her head buried into her hands. “I know it was her Jen. I don’t know why but it was her and you know it too. She’s been taunting us throughout the investigation”, Emily said. She was standing leaning against a white wall opposite Jen whose eyes were still focused on the floor. She brushed her blonde hair off her face using both her hands, stood up and began pacing across the room.
“We have nothing Em. No evidence. Maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe she just hates the authorities.” Jen’s voice filled with resignation. “I mean how could we possibly know it was her. We still have three other suspects. We have to be thorough. It might be time to rule her out.”
“No Jen it was her. I know it was”
“How? Don’t be so stubborn at least try to consider what I’m saying”
“I’m just going to have to show you”
“Show me what?” Jen asked cautiously.
Emily raised her hand. Nothing happened for a moment. Then Jen jerked forward as if she had been in a car accident. As she turned around she saw her body floating. She let out a scream, but no sound came out. She turned over to Emily who was drifting towards her. Emily was pointing at something. Jen followed her finger towards some sort of portal. The dust throughout the room aligned towards it like it does with sunlight through a window. They drifted through it and ended up in at the scene of the murder. “Now watch” Emily said. The doctor appeared out of nowhere. The victim was sitting in his seat still alive. Emily and Jen were there and saw everything but couldn’t interact with their surroundings. They were there but weren’t there at the same time. The doctor took out a gun and shot the victim through the forehead and disappeared. Jen screamed but no one heard her. Her voice turned into an echo. She looked over to Emily whose body was fading. She raised her hand towards Emily and immediately jerked back into her body in the present day. She had time travelled. What had just happened. “Emily what just..” she was cut off immediately
“You just time travelled sort of. The doctor is the killer and that’s how I know. I know, impossible but well that’s what just happened”
© Adi Gajendragadkar, 2018
Wednesday started out as just another day. Sean had already left for work, leaving his morning detritus in the kitchen sink for Janet to deal with. Clean up and food prep done, a quick touch of make-up later, Janet headed to work. When she arrived, there was more than the usual buzz. A crowd had gathered round Suzie’s desk. Sighing, it was Valentine’s Day, Janet could guess Suzie was now wearing a ring. And so it transpired. Forcing a bright smile, she suggested congratulatory drinks at lunchtime, before heading to her office. Door shut behind her, she took a deep breath and buzzed “Tom, can you come through when you’re ready?”
Minutes later, Tom bustled in carrying coffee, notebook tucked under his arm. Avoiding her eyes he said “shoot” whilst holding his pen poised. Janet laughed, it got her every time he did it. Tom had been her PA for a year now and he was anything other than the perfect secretary bird. Instead he was whip-smart and very ambitious. Together, they were rising through the ranks rapidly. He raised his eyebrows …
“Another V-Day without a question being popped?”
“Oh come on, I thought I was safe in here.”
“Yes OK, it’s yet another year.”
“And he knows this is what you want now, right? You’ve stopped all the independent woman, don’t want a ring nonsense, haven’t you?”
“Uh-huh. He looked at me like I had two heads before going to the pub!”
“Ah well, it’s only 9, there’s plenty of time for him to pull it together.”
“Yeah right … and pigs might fly! So, this spring conference, shall we run through the to-do list?”
Two hours passed before they broke for more coffee. Janet made a quick call, ending it as Tom returned with filled mugs …
“Erm Janet, you might want to look out the window.”
“Well, you know those big things that fly over the Super Bowl in America?”
“Yeah, those. Well, there’s one outside … and it looks like a pig!”
“Yeah right, really funny Tom!”
“No really, you need to look. And … it’s pulling a sign. Seriously Janet, you need to look.”
“Oh for goodness sake, how’m I expected to get any work done around here?”
Through the window she read “Janet Bradley, Sean says will you marry me?” Turning as the office door office banged behind them, they saw Sean taking to bended knee. Smiling smugly, he held out a small box … containing a diamond ring.
© Debra Carey, 2018