A Quick Gander At What I’m Working On.

I thought I would share a quick look at something that I’m working on. It is something that is larger than what I normally write so it almost certainly wont end up on the website, though excerpts like this might.

The church bells tolled the time, three o’clock. Spencer looked at me over the rim of his huge sunglasses, which he assured me were the latest fashion, and took another bite of his meat and potato pie. He said nothing. When Spencer didn’t say anything it was a time for concern, it meant he was thinking. I waited patiently, expecting the next deluge of unfiltered ideas and half baked theories to come pouring out. He opened his mouth as though to speak, letting the moment linger before taking another bite of his pie. His silence was almost as bad as the constant stream of one sided conversation. I realised I had come to expect a certain pattern of behaviour from him, what’s more is that he did too and was having me on. That’s something the old Spencer would have done, before the demon. He fidgeted on the bench, he had something to say after all.

   “What’s to do with your face?” I asked him

   “Itsjustidontreallyunderstandyoupeopleandyouridyologicalhypocrisy,” bits of meat and potato pie flew at me as he rushed to get the thought out, hands waving wildly in the air.

   “Slower Spence mate.”

   “Take fire for example,” he said, taking the time to space his words “given the imagery you have of it as it relates to us lot down stairs, infernal and eternal and all that good stuff, does it make sense to you that people would be burned at the stake in order to purify them in the eyes of Him upstairs and all his feathered cohorts?” the half eaten pie was now completely forgotten.

   “You really should be having these conversations with a member of the clergy Spence,” I offered not for the first time. My knowledge on religious dogma and practises went as far as your public school RE class would take you plus or minus a few bits since the demon had showed up. 

   “Piss on the clergy mate, biggest bunch of PR bashers you ever saw. Getting an honest answer out of that lot is like getting blood from a stone,” I raised an eyebrow at that given its source. “Don’t look at me like that,” he continued “we’re not saints-”


   “-were not saints, but neither are they. I’m willing to admit both sides are a little bent, which is why I’m up here sunning myself in little ole Wigan with you,”  he leaned back and resumed eating his pie.

   “You really like those?” I asked. The demon shrugged my friends shoulders. 

   “When in Rome,” He munched happily for a second before he began again “Actually I’ve been to Rome, and speaking of saints I had chance to meet Saint Gallicanus one time. Seemed a nice chap.”

   “Where did you meet a Saint?!”

   “Downstairs,” he grinned “you’d be surprised how many of them get lost in transit.”

It has the tentative title of Mr Rowe’s Demon but I need to see if that sticks. I’m enjoying writing it so far, the dialogue is something I want to get as natural as possible. I would like to use some northern colloquialisms but for the sake of alienating the reader I won’t go full Wiganese…well maybe for one character. We will see how it goes.

Aside from that I am still working on A Door For A Home and several other projects too. Watch this space.

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