Colin Sinclair's Blog, page 9

randoms iv

“How did we build the Crow Boy?” Mourne said.
Elgar considers this for a moment.
“That’s a very good question-”
“Rhetorical,” Mourne told her.
Elgar nodded like she understood. There’d been a lot of that.
“Adding a shade of drama to the affair, see?” Mourne continued. “A touch of the old theatric, you follow?”
Elgar—just an apprentice—not really following at all, but she kept it quiet. Eyes open, beak shut. Just here to learn. That’s the way.
“This is just rehearsal,” Mourne went on. “They li...

randoms iii

I stand behind shaded glass, and look down upon the city.

Not much to see from here, unless you have an interest in the jagged peaks of building tops and the thin black points of the support-spires erupting from a wide dark sea of webs; sharp angles tangled with brighter strands of fresh silk and brushed by fleeting fingers of speeding cloud.

Close to the distant horizon—beyond the city streets and suburban homes and all the farms and villages unseen—the sun stands still in a sky of washed out...

randoms ii

He must have known this day would come. Perhaps he wanted to be caught? Certain irregularities in his behaviour had been revealed; it began with task-sheets incomplete, unscheduled travels under the dark, it ended with one too many rebels escaping from our nets.

When I find Widow Brin, when he has at last stopped running, he is in a dank and dismal top floor room at an end-of-the-line hotel.

He waits at a table topped with brittle ancient plastic. A breeze from the open window flutters thin and...

randoms

Some folks legged it out of London when the hammer fell. Bright star falling from a blue sky, slamming down; down to earth out past the edge of Regent’s Park. A deep and horrible shudder of thudding impact. You could feel it in your bones and teeth. No flash or explosion as such, not from where I stood, but soon a pall of smoke as high as heaven twisting up above the spires and tower blocks. Screams and sirens floating out on the shivering air. A lot of people left right then. Not for stayin’...

the things of the past

The first in a short series of references to things I’ve written in the past and which saw various levels of the-light-of-day.

“Spoken In Darkness”from an e-zine (sadly now defunct) called PANTECHNICON (edited by Trudi Topham et al).

Issue Five contains lots of great stuff…and also my story, which is about God, the Devil, and the private detective who finds himself stuck in the middle.

Still available online from here: Pantechnicon Five

possible futures ii

When mad scientists/aliens finally start uplifting and or genetically engineering animals I’d like a pangolin butler/valet /bodyguard. If it’s not too much trouble. Preferably whilst I work as a consulting detective in a strange solar punk future where cities are covered with bioluminescent flowers and shaded by trees as tall as Taipei 101

The inevitable comic about these crime-fighting adventures will be called Type A. Once I get around to writing it. And find an artist.

possible futures

I look forward to watching movies with cgi versions of actors who’ve never even read the script.

“I saw you in Godfather IX!”

“Really? how was I?”

Pending

Any minute now I’ll get around to posting something here. Any minute. Talk amongst yourselves….