smash.

I turned around and found that someone had put my window through. glass everywhere, my wife would have to get the vacuum upstairs quick sharp. there was a chunk of brick on the floor, wrapped in paper, and I guessed that this was responsible for the shattered pane as it hadn’t been there before, when it was in one piece. I have a highly deductive mind. I picked it up, undid the string and read the note. I gulped down some pre-vomit warm water and had to sit quickly. it said ‘ your next’. threatened by illiterates. gulp again.

like a beautiful libretto I composed myself and looked out of the hole in the window frame. three small children were riding bikes round and round a really small kid, who was trapped in the ring of death that accelerated around him. no one else in sight.

‘hey kids’, I shouted, ‘have you seen anyone around here carrying a brick? about this big?’ I held up the piece of brick for them to see.

‘I did see a shadowy dark character earlier this morrow,’ said the small child in the centre, ‘and most malevolent did he look too. near frightened me to death.’

‘we saw him too,’ said the kids on bikes, ‘it was the end of the world man and he didn’t look happy. you in trouble mister.’

‘where did he go?’

‘he slunk off with his hood over his face and his shoulders slouched and a cigarette hanging from the corner of his crooked mouth. he was heading home for breakfast.’

‘which way? you don’t know where he lives do you?’

‘of course we do, all kids know that, it’s 47b Peartree Avenue - we take it in turns to watch him. there are signs of his work everywhere.’

‘good job. you kids want some sweets?’ I said. I’d read somewhere that kids liked sweets.

‘no, we’re fine and full as monkeys, the end of the world man already gave us strawberry fizzbombs for telling him where you lived. looks like you might have to have some fisticuffs with him.’

looks like the end of the world man had been reading the same text. those kids sure did seem to have a whole lot of information as their fingertips. and they say standards are slipping.

first I hoped that it had been some kind of random attack. then, maybe some guy who found out I’d been sleeping with his wife. that happens from time to time, it kind of goes with the territory, you have to expect the odd act of violence for flouting convention. but it was the end of the world man who had marked me out for his attentions, that was a different matter altogether. with a man like that tailing you, you’ve got to be looking backwards and forwards at the same time. and sideways and up and down if you’ve got any sense, he’s not the same as some kind of jealously-gorged husband at all. I wept for my imminent death, then went for cereal.

my wife sat looking at the bottom of the teapot, head shaking from side to side. I took it that events for the day were not promising.

‘the leaves are not looking good for you. I see a dark cloud crossing your path today. it might rain, if you forget your umbrella.’

‘I’m being stalked by the end of the world man. some kids told me he broke our window.’ I poured myself out a coffee, I was trembling still and thought the caffeine might balance me out.

‘that would certainly make sense of what I’m seeing here. portents of nefariousness. everything is significant. what of his wife the great nothing turns out like you want it to?’

‘no, kids didn’t see her, just him.’ no toast.

‘perhaps it is true then what they say about her passing on: I suppose it was inevitable.’

my wife is taken in by any old story, she lacks a sense of distinction like most of her ilk.

‘kids’ stories. if he’s looking for me then I’ll go and meet him halfway. if that’s his game, I’ll play the same. and besides, even if he thinks we have business, that’s no reason to go breaking windows. we’re both civilised men, we both know how to use a knife and fork and how to laugh at a different pitch depending on the company we’re in. windows aren’t cheap.’

‘oh, my brave little man. the innards of sacred animals have long told me that you would be a righteous martyr to a futile cause.’

‘do we have any cornflakes?’

I gave her two silver coins for her prognostications and bought some lucky heather.

‘any infidelities on the horizon I should know of?’

‘oh no, you remain as loyal to me as a dog unable to escape the leash its dead owner lies slumped over.’

how right she is.

mother said to me that a person must confront their demons and devils face-on or run like a coward for the rest of their life. this she proved by jumping from a cliff to cure her vertigo. heights, she said, are nothing to be afraid of, they are merely an illusion of the eye and prevent mankind from achieving its natural desire of walking the earth unhindered, unbound. anyone who is true to their essential humanity will reveal this to be the case by annihilating the concept of height from their mind.

as I turned down Peartree Avenue, I thought of mother’s intestines after the fall writhing out of her stomach like snakes and wondered how my wife would have interpreted them. the fruits of ego will prove ripe today?

more kids. kids everywhere down the street on bikes riding round in little circles with little kids in the middle like a huge cogged machine. rings of kids turning rings of kids. the sun shone down and the kids shouted ‘ogee’ at the sky. started to feel a bit sorry for the end of the world man, hiding behind his net curtains, watching the kids keeping an eye on him, like lambs surrounding a wolf. I walked down to 47b and opened the garden gate. nice begonias. a black cat crossed my path and I couldn’t remember whether it was good or bad luck. I made an obscure sign in front of myself for protection.

the end of the world man opened the door in an egg-stained vest with a slice of buttered toast in his right hand. his eyes looked like they had been honed from distilled thunder.

‘I’ve been looking for you,’ I said, ‘you came round and broke my window this morning, and I want answers as to why my window was a better option than any one else’s’

‘don’t know nothing of windows, just got up ain’t I. look, breakfast,’ he pointed to the toast. ‘’s no good to go out end of the worlding on an empty stomach. I ain’t never met you before in my life.’

what trickery is this? ‘it wasn’t you?’

‘buddy, ain’t been out in days, those kids ride those bikes all day and make me all dizzy, got inner ear problems as it is, can’t hardly stand up and balance can I? last thing I did was leave a manhole uncovered for some old girl’s end of the world. ain’t no one noticed there’s been no end of the world lately for anyone? I’m backed up as it is, I must be at least ten days behind on some folk, they should be in the ground by now not still marching around. and I ain’t no window breaker, where’s the end of the world in that?’

I stared at his face looking for the fatal slip, the furtive sideways glance. how does a face give itself away and let it slip that the body vandalised your house? I rubbed my chin and contemplated. breaking windows wasn’t really an end of the world type thing. then again maybe he messed up with this admin and couldn’t tell me about it. my brow furrowed.

‘who told you I was here anyway?’ said the end of the world man, ‘ain’t nobody grown-up supposed to know I’m here. those kids...’

‘yeah, it was the kids who told me it was you, and where you lived. look, if it wasn’t you who put the window through, you got any ideas who else might have?’

‘I don’t know nothing about no broken window, I’m the end of the world for god’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? go on, go sort out your window. and see if you can’t get rid of those kids, they’re trying to end of the world me, I can smell the thought coming from their fetid little brains. it’s me that decides it.’

he gulped and slammed the door in my face. the sky looked like a petrol puddle. I wished that I’d brought an umbrella. and damn my wife. the kids looked as if something important had happened while I’d been away.

I still wasn’t sure about the end of the world man’s story about breakfast. what I really needed was a truth serum to inject into his coronary artery and get that mouth of his yabbing up and down like a broken hinge: even then though I wouldn’t have my mind set at rest, who trusts these potions nowadays 100% except my wife? those kids looked damn suspicious, with little glinty kid eyes being the only ones making a positive id on the end of the world man. decided to go back to bed and think about a woman that I walked past in the street who smiled at me over her shoulder...

knock at the door.

I put on my dressing gown and opened it. my next door neighbour.

‘sorry to bother you neighbour, but I saw some kids put the brick through your window this morning and I thought I’d better let you know.’

‘you sure it was the kids? not the end of the world man?’

‘man, the end of the world man is retired now, just does it part-time and weekends. does no one tell you anything? Never managed to find the right woman to breed with, so no more end of the world men coming this way ever again, we might be in luck.’

‘that’s a relief. damn kids. what’s their game? I thought I was history and next on the list.’

I looked out of the door, over my neighbour’s shoulder, at the kids, who were still riding round on their bikes. the little one in the middle smiled at me, teeth like needles. I thought how useful a device the neighbour had been to fill me in with the facts as he saw them. such immaculate timing.

I sat down to eat some cinnamon toast and drink some camomile tea while I waited for my wife to return from her spiritual rounds. old women pay a pretty penny to hear a harlot in a scarf ad lib. on the horns of a dilemma and no mistake, kids and deities bluffing me, maybe even the neighbour in on an elaborate conspiracy, I’ve never trusted him too much either after he caught me with his wife. hoped that was just the twenty-first century talking.

my wife walked in and started removing her beads.

‘I need a private reading, oh seer of things yet to be.’

‘your face reveals all, clear as washed crystal in a spring waterfall. difficulties there are to overcome. connections must be unravelled. The fates are set.’

‘generalities will not see silver crossing your palm, old hag. can’t you just tell me in plain english?’

‘and break the code of all soothsayers since the world began? Never.’

I went out for another walk. kids stretched across the landscape for miles, salivating as I passed like rabid dogs. kids on kids on kids on kids, built up into a giant kid mountain in front of my face. round and round and round they went, higher and higher. damn schools must have shut down early today or something. what do these kids want with me all of a sudden?

and then I had a leap of logic.

I burst through the door of 47b like a deflating balloon and found him laid out on the living room floor, face down.

‘father?’

‘no, it can’t be. how did you know?’

‘I guessed: mother said we’d meet up one day.’

‘I suppose it was inevitable. a son knows his father’

we hugged like it was the start and the end of everything. me and the end of the world man, brethren. my wife didn’t see that one coming. no wonder my mother was so secretive before her accident. all those years in the orphanage for nothing.

‘what does it mean dad, me being your son? why did you never tell me before? so many questions. how did we get here?’

‘oh son, I ain’t never wanted to tell anyone, I didn’t want no one having to follow on after me end of the worlding it day and night, people don’t appreciate being struck down, they don’t see the beauty of nature’s balance.’

‘what are you telling me dad?’

‘son, you’re my heir, the kids found out about you. Oh, and I wanted you to have a normal life, none of this marching round setting fire to buildings and poisoning and dropping bombs and crucifying like I’ve had to. thought I’d outwitted those kids, even when they got you to turn up here this morning. damn these genes. I’m afraid it’s all on your head now.’

‘what?’

‘it’s your turn son, I’m not long for this world, even my end comes around eventually. the kids will win, like they always do, they always get their end of the world man. you’ve got to strike down the infirm and elderly and make way for the new, it’s the done thing. I'm sorry son...’

his head slumped down on the fireplace and didn’t rise again.

me, the harvester of the knackered and passed it. shit.

what a miserable day: found my dad after all these years only for him to die and make me the end of the world man with it. the wife was pleased that after all these years she had a position which truly reflected her spiritual status, but me? I don’t want to be no end of the world man. kids in their thousands outside my house now, telling me who’s ripe for smiting. self-serving little pricks, I don’t know how dad coped with it all, it was probably them that pushed him over the edge once they found out where I was. anyway, I put up a bike shed this evening to keep them happy, at least they don’t have to ride round in circles anymore, the number of accidents outside my house was alerting suspicion from the medical authorities.

but this isn’t me, I’ve got the vest on, but it doesn’t fit. I ain’t no end of the world man, it’s just a name, I won’t be having to do anything about it. people can go about their daily business without having to worry about me turning up with the cloak and dagger. except for a few who’ve upset me over the years, it’d be a shame to waste my powers completely. those kids...well, they’ll have to learn to get by as things are, I ain’t end of the worlding it for anyone.