I dug another pit and threw down the dog and the tortoise. they sat at the bottom and stared at each other, it wasn't what I was expecting. the spade looked guilty standing up like that in the garden, I had to lay it down, it was giving me a headache just looking at it. I thought that maybe they'd start up when they got hungry. but nothing happened. it doesn't, not when you're ready for it. clouds started to mass somewhere over towards the horizon, the usual place.

I went inside to make a cup of tea and watched the kettle boil, there was a whistle after a while but still no sound from outside the window. the television seemed like a good option to kill some time. it is good for that at least. steam rose and melted into the air, the spoon clanged against the side of the cup, it didn't help. I left the tea, it was giving me a headache.

things will fight, there is a natural tension between things.

when I was young, people used to stand round in a circle so no one could escape until it was done, they'd clap and shout your name if you won. if a teacher came they ran and you'd get hit.

behind the glass and in front of the wires, four people stood behind waist-high podiums and tried to press the top before any of the others. it reassured, that there were others, still trying somewhere out there. they had first names but no surnames. there were lights and people watching and applauding, the music hurt my ears. everyone smiled as they spoke, those teeth, like adverts for teeth, but not one of them meant it, their eyes were narrow. I was impressed all the same, at how far we'd come, to be able to do that. the appearance of. seeming. could I have done that instead, was I less?

'it will be a cold day in hell before…'

I was off-guard, I'd have dealt with it differently, prepared. would I?

there is always a struggle towards power, that is natural. those without want and those with don't want to share. it is the nature of power to dictate such actions. opposition is healthy, dialectically speaking. as long as you are the underdog, the disenfranchised. history calls you bad names if you aren't there to call the shots afterwards, it doesn't listen to those who don't turn up for registration.

two pairs of black eyes reflecting each other in a hole.

there was a ticking, the clock still ticked, as if the time was the same. the time wasn't the same.

my beard itched, but I couldn't face shaving, I could feel the will of the razor hypnotising my hand from the bathroom cabinet already, it wasn't safe for me. there would be redness on the white sink, I was losing, I was always losing. I can't remember when I last won, not like Todd with a stranger's arm around his shoulder. he too would be defeated, in time, it is the way of things to lose, they are drawn to it.

I was getting a headache. I drew the curtains and it made no difference.

there were a couple of dirty brown suitcases at the bottom of the stairs one morning, it seemed badly written to see them there waiting to depart. I couldn't let them leave, they were made from the outside of cows. I don't think I was supposed to see them there.

in olden times they would have been given spears and nets. what did questions prove?

49 red marker pen crosses on the calendar. the drawers upstairs stood half-empty still.

I checked the garden again through a chink in the curtains. I kept checking it, I had to. there wasn't anything happening.

a mess of crockery in the sink, I'd been eating from tins for weeks. if it isn't canned I won't eat it I told the woman behind the counter, it was meant as a joke but she looked scared and didn't laugh. such is tin life. it's round every corner just waiting to jump out on you, don't look. it has a small bag full of ball bearings to mug you with.

we are all defeated in time, finally it gets to us all, the lazy and the industrious alike and slams a little flag into our decrepit bellies. it is a small climb for the most part, but if it is there time will climb it, it has no option.

I saw a snake try to swallow its own tail once, it didn't seem to realise.

at one thirty the phone rang as it had done every day, my boss. if they were really worried they'd have come round by now to see me, but it's contagious, there might be an epidemic. I let it ring out, after ten it was beaten into submission by silence. the receiver looked as if it might pounce still, I hit the wall against it and there was a small explosion of plastic.

the only mask I have is a mask of myself, it fools no one, not even me.

things break apart, they fall out of sorts with one another, it is not the natural way of things to stick together forever. they move closer for a time then drop away again, return to their own place and then move off elsewhere. nothing wants to live in the shadow of another. there are forces at work, like elasticity, they keep everything moving.

a mess of tins in the bin.

she bought the plates, she said let's buy red plates, if you eat from a sanguine surface your appetite diminishes far sooner. red plays tricks on the mind. I said, don't be stupid, I don't know anyone with red plates, everyone I know has white ones. we bought red plates, they're sat in the sink even now, I think I mentioned them.

no one ever shouted my name. there was clapping somewhere in the distance, but no one ever shouted my name.

I need more plastic cutlery, the bag is empty.

when you lose the whole world wants a ringside seat for free. losing goes on, once you are down it continues, there is not just the point of loss followed by one of recovery, you roll in the trough back and forth like a marble. no one watches when you win, I'm the only one who watched Todd, I'll tune in again next week and hope he gets beaten too. it wasn't Todd last week.

this headache.

'hey neighbour, any sign?' bite me.

it's not the taking part that counts, all losers will tell you that, as long as you gave it your best they say. if you gave it your best that's worse, pray not that, pray that you kept some in reserve for next time at least.

her eyes narrowed when she told me, as if she enjoyed telling me even. there was something working behind it, cogs were in motion, spinning and whirring. you can't hold her to blame, for the fighting, for the everything, it wasn't her or me to blame, there was something else doing it, something external. foreign.

I'd forgotten about the hole, I don't know how. still no sign of action, both in their corners, insolent animals. snother couple to overthrow me. I threw a bucket of cold water over them, but they started drinking then. the pit was too deep to climb down into now, the dog had been digging as well, they think of everything, dogs. I couldn't see his body anymore but there was a growl and a lapping.

I won't be there to call the shots, when the time comes, afterwards. there will be another in my place.

Todd threw his arms in the air when he won, as if it meant something to do that, to stretch your arms out cruciform and hug the whole world. I would have adopted a three-quarters stance, one victory only lines up a thousand defeats on your path ready to walk into.

someone was banging on the walls and drumming in my ears.

I dream about a man with a hammer, I know his face but I don't know him, he comes and hammers me into a box though I'm not ready, I tell him, no not yet, there's more in me still, I can get her back, I'll do better, I couldn't have done any worse could I, go on, just one more go at it, she'll return, I'll find a way so that she can, it's never too late is it?

when I lost the tin opener

the capital of Venezuela

the tallest tree

the

Todd knows all, it brings him power over the others.

will someone locate the drummer?

the day was swallowed whole by the night, engulfed, it didn't even put up a fight. I watched the light under the curtains fade, then it was no more. it would have its time again, there would be a slaying around dawn.

things that are buried can't come back, they are buried now. Soil is heavy, heavy enough.

I drank and the drinking made it better, I forgot when I drank, I forgot about it all, even about the drinking, it helped.

she'd said stop, be sated, but that was before, the only voice was mine shouting rararararara at the mirror, it made sense.

I have developed a phobia of magnets, they are not...right.

the tortoise slunk towards the dog's extra deep pit and bared his teeth, I heard the dog cowering and whimpering somewhere in the darkness, I knew it would. I thought about shaving.