Tuesday, 3 November 2026
Sunday, 1 November 2026
Sarah isotopes
Sarah Isotopes
After the nuclear war with France half of the UK was destroyed or uninhabitable. Many big towns and cities ceased to exist. Those that survived were over ten thousand in population or had not been hit due to a lack of warheads or the delivery vehicles had failed or been shot down. It was a calculated chess game. Many of Sarah's comrade freedom fighters had died when Leeds or Liverpool had been nuked. Yet ones near or in Manchester survived as no warhead fell there. Tens of millions hand died. Many on the day of the exchange and later by radiation. Survivors faced a long slow death or severe illness with cancer. Health care collapsed, food production ceased, transport systems failed. Law and order broke down. It was terrifying. Sarah, John and Lee, later joined by Red and Gun Barrel, remained in Oldham. Many survivors fled to the mountains or the north. The south was a radioactive wasteland. The freedom fighters maintained discipline, were always armed and worked with the surviving Freedom Fighter Head Quarters. Rival armed groups became a small problem. They were few in number, not well trained and had old weapons. If negotiation failed they were targeted and dealt with. Dangerously, a new enemy came into being. Surviving units of the English Army. There had been tensions before the nuclear war. Several skirmishes and battles. More of the fighting came later. Many English troops and bases were destroyed in the war. But several remained intact. Several thousand soldiers remained. Sarah told her mates that they always has to be ready. She exchanged messages with HQ on this. Plans were made in case the army attacked or sent out recon patrols. Let their patrols find nothing. Don't engage their drones or helicopters unless absolutely necessary. Let our existence be secret to them. If we need to fight we will do. We will win for we live here. This is our home. We are outnumbered and outgunned with old or second rate weapons. Our courage and tenacity will allow us to win. As our intelligence and critical thinking allowed us to survive the aftermath of a nuclear exchange. Those were the worst times. Still are. We grow crops on Oldham Edge. Get fresh water from there. We communicate with our remaining units by secret means. The Welsh and Scots leave us alone. That war is history. The English Army is the enemy now. If they want war they will get it! I am Sarah. I wanted my fairytale. With a loving husband, kids, a job and our own house. Laugh if you want. The life I wanted was ripped away when I was seventeen. I never met my husband. That's a good thing. As is having no kids. I'm a soldier. A freedom fighter fighting for my beliefs. Nobody stopped me before. Not the Welsh or English or French. Not rival armed fighters. Only the great creator knows when it'll be my end. Till then I do what I do. Work at the aid station in the old Oldham hospital. There's so many hurt or sick. I practice shooting and defence tactics with my mates. And wait for an attack that will come in future. We don't know when but we will be ready. We have our supply of weapons in the lock up garage. When the army comes knowing we will open the door. Just wait and see...
***
Friday, 30 October 2026
Mirror Truck
Give me my black flying security jacket! You parked your truck half on the pavement. The drivers mate was stood there with an open door. I went to the front to get past. The mirror was there. I thought it was on door and tried to move it. It was attached to the front of the truck and I almost ripped it off to get by! The guy shouted and I went round a parked car. I gave him the middle finger. Just then a big young alpha male who knew me said my name assertively. I said hi and kept on going. It was obvious he wanted to chat. I was busy with things to do. Looking for my Riga flying jacket to get a back print. I went to many stores including all four floors of the mall. All the jackets were nylon. Cotton is needed. I'm off to the army base on Sunday to get one. Call sign Riga! Truck
Give me my black flying security jacket! You parked your truck half on the pavement. The drivers mate was stood there with an open door. I went to the front to get past. The mirror was there. I thought it was on door and tried to move it. It was attached to the front of the truck and I almost ripped it off to get by! The guy shouted and I went round a parked car. I gave him the middle finger. Just then a big young alpha male who knew me said my name assertively. I said hi and kept on going. It was obvious he wanted to chat. I was busy with things to do. Looking for my Riga flying jacket to get a back print. I went to many stores including all four floors of the mall. All the jackets were nylon. Cotton is needed. I'm off to the army base on Sunday to get one. Call sign Riga!
Sunday, 25 October 2026
Riga Woodpecker Ridge
Riga Woodpecker Ridge
Riga went to see some woodpeckers. She hiked an old World War 2 battle site at Woodpecker Ridge with her friend. Her friend was a skool mate. They bumped into each other in the supermarket. Exchanging numbers, they agreed to hike. The small one knew an old battle site. She’d been there the previous summer. Now the trees had died back it was time to explore.
Riga’s friend was called Tara. Riga was small and curvy. Tara was tall and skinny. She played basketball. They went up the mountain. Both wore cycling shorts and sports vests. Tara had a hiking stick. Riga took a stick from a tree. She cut it with her Rambo knife. Tara asked where that was from. Venezuela was the reply.
The path was steep and treacherous. Wild caribou went this way. There was none now. The gals were careful of their steps. To the right was a small pretty hill. All green full of trees and curvy. Like Riga. Call it Riga Hill! They went up here. Or down a valley, through trees, over a small river then up. With no paths it took time. They rested at the river and ate sandwiches. Put their feet into the cold clear water.
They went up Riga Hill. It was stiff going. They had to make their own paths. Underfoot was grass and hidden danger. Abandoned fox holes from the war. Tara stepped on the grass. She fell a metre down into a hole! Riga had to pull her out. It was a struggle. They were more careful now. Pieces of jagged alloy were littered about. Tara asked. From napalm tanks Riga explained. Dropped by Yankee planes. A place of history.
Atop the small Riga Hill, the view was nice. They saw several other peaks of varied sizes. And the valley they crossed. Both sat down and drank coffee and finished their sandwiches. Suddenly screams came from the other size of the hill. Tara and Riga looked at one another. Loud rabid and un-animal like. Tara shook her head. Dead Japanese soldiers? No, not possible, Riga replied.
A rustling came from the bushes. More screams, so close. Riga took her Rambo knife from its sheaf. Tara held her walking stick. From out of the trees came a zombie! It wore old ripped orange shorts, a dirty white t shirt and a single blue trainer. The zombie beat its chest with both fists and screamed. Spit flew from its mouth and its red eyes were wild. Not of this place. It rushed Tara!
The tall gal pivoted left and kicked with her right foot. Her blow caught zombie. It fell backwards. Tara lashed out with her stick. Again and again she hit it. It grunted. Her blows had no effect! It screamed and got up. Riga was ready. She stuck her combat knife into its chest. Right to the fucking handle! No use! Tara shouted. In its brain. The brain. That’s how you kill a zombie!
Both met zombies. Or just one for now. Riga re-orientated herself. She danced from foot to foot as a boxer did. She stabbed the zombie in the skull. The blade easily went in. the zombie fell down dead. Riga pulled out her knife and wiped the blood on its old white t shirt. An easy kill. Like the bandits in Venez.
What the fuck was that? Tara gawped in disbelief. Those only exist in horror films. Riga nodded. Suddenly more screams and two more zombies faced off the gals. You wanna fucking play? Come on then. Riga was mad now. She nodded and waggled her toes.
The small gal threw her knife into left zombies’ chest. She grabbed her hardwood walking stick and jabbed it in the face. Three times. Tara did the same with her alloy Norwegian walking stick. Both gals beating the shit out of two zombies! If only they had guns.
The zombies screamed and waved their hands. Tried to advance. The gals kept on thumping them. Riga swiftly kicked the legs from under her zombie. She mashed its skull in with the stick. Stinking rancid brains covered the grass. She pulled her knife out and nodded. Then she helped Tara finish off hers. It died rapidly with a guttural scream.
With no time to rest, another zombie burst from the trees. This one didn’t scream. Was it adapting? Tara picked up a piece of corroded but sharp alloy from the napalm tank. She threw this at the zombie. It was hit on the neck. Its head was severed and fell away. Rolling stupidly down the hill to the river. The headless body, stinking blood pumping from its neck walked in circles. Riga and Tara laughed till they cried. Both attacked the zombie sending it sprawling.
This is Riga Hill. And it belongs to Riga and Tara. You don’t fuck with us. No zombies are allowed here. Go here an
***
Friday, 23 October 2026
new poems
Crossing road by work. Selfish motherfucker in a car drove thru on green his end and green wen pedestrians cross. Just missed two gals one who said fuck u. I have him the middle finger. Anybody runs me over there I'll haunt them till they hang themselves. This is why there was blood on the ground Tuesday went we walked thru it end of day. Who sets up this traffic light system? Shoot them with shotgun full of rock salt!
///////////////
Jammed
Clean your glasses so you can see where you're going
Or you'll crash that nice Sniper bike of yours
Be a red puddle on the roadway
I'll ride a bike when it's fully safe
With protective bubble and no falling off
I know it'll hurt if I crash on two wheels
I don't wanna be like Renee or a million others
Casualties of two wheel events
Each rider says it'll never happen
Let it happen to the next guy
But what happens if it's not him?
Satan visits you in a 10 wheel semi
Like strawberry jam on the road....
/////////////////
Spaces
Same crap different day
Plan to job resign
Oh bring it on so sweet
No more QA bullshit
Autotype is fucked
Just like us Same old she goes mad
Another barking female
Added to the list
A whole world full of them
What do you want to do?
Bump Putin off result!
Where will we be tomorrow?
Or in January or 2028?
Watch this space
//////////////
Fine before we met/fine after you ended it/crescents ascend where?
new poems
Crossing road by work. Selfish motherfucker in a car drove thru on green his end and green wen pedestrians cross. Just missed two gals one who said fuck u. I have him the middle finger. Anybody runs me over there I'll haunt them till they hang themselves. This is why there was blood on the ground Tuesday went we walked thru it end of day. Who sets up this traffic light system? Shoot them with shotgun full of rock salt!
///////////////
Jammed
Clean your glasses so you can see where you're going
Or you'll crash that nice Sniper bike of yours
Be a red puddle on the roadway
I'll ride a bike when it's fully safe
With protective bubble and no falling off
I know it'll hurt if I crash on two wheels
I don't wanna be like Renee or a million others
Casualties of two wheel events
Each rider says it'll never happen
Let it happen to the next guy
But what happens if it's not him?
Satan visits you in a 10 wheel semi
Like strawberry jam on the road....
/////////////////
Spaces
Same crap different day
Plan to job resign
Oh bring it on so sweet
No more QA bullshit
Autotype is fucked
Just like us Same old she goes mad
Another barking female
Added to the list
A whole world full of them
What do you want to do?
Bump Putin off result!
Where will we be tomorrow?
Or in January or 2028?
Watch this space
//////////////
Fine before we met/fine after you ended it/crescents ascend where?
Sunday, 18 October 2026
sitting stop
Sitting Atop
You sit atop the world issuing orders. What orders will you give to me? Tell me to polish your boots so they look like a mirror? A black mirror a raven would use. Or a wooden mirror a squirrel would like. I know you are vain. This is why you're in charge and I'm not. I don't want the responsibility or extended hours. Nor do I care about the salary increase. And I don't want to watch my back for a Damocles sword. That's for you and you alone. I know my place. Nobody else can polish boots like I can. Tell them you did it. Not me. They'll think you an even better leader doing his own boots. I wear trainers so need no shine. My skills are kept current doing yours. My special technique for our great leader. I keep my views to myself on your abilities. I quietly observe and listen while polishing. It all happens in your quarters. The boot polishing and decisions. Choices on who gets what, on who rules what, on who is culled, on how much loot you will take etc. It all happens here and I hear it all. I take my time doing your boots. While empire building takes place. Or empire collapsing when I give my Intel to my masters. If only you knew. The spy in your midst. What would you do to me. All empires fall. It's a matter of when. Just remember how yours rose. I will make it fall. Keep talking. I keep polishing. You have the best boots...
***
You sit atop the world issuing orders. What orders will you give to me? Tell me to polish your boots so they look like a mirror? A black mirror a raven would use. Or a wooden mirror a squirrel would like. I know you are vain. This is why you're in charge and I'm not. I don't want the responsibility or extended hours. Nor do I care about the salary increase. And I don't want to watch my back for a Damocles sword. That's for you and you alone. I know my place. Nobody else can polish boots like I can. Tell them you did it. Not me. They'll think you an even better leader doing his own boots. I wear trainers so need no shine. My skills are kept current doing yours. My special technique for our great leader. I keep my views to myself on your abilities. I quietly observe and listen while polishing. It all happens in your quarters. The boot polishing and decisions. Choices on who gets what, on who rules what, on who is culled, on how much loot you will take etc. It all happens here and I hear it all. I take my time doing your boots. While empire building takes place. Or empire collapsing when I give my Intel to my masters. If only you knew. The spy in your midst. What would you do to me. All empires fall. It's a matter of when. Just remember how yours rose. I will make it fall. Keep talking. I keep polishing. You have the best boots...
***
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