Fiction…

Skthrack upon meine eyes; the night-sky lights up but retains its billowed menace. Above Pennington marshes those clouds in those milliseconds reveal the sharpest silver filaments—I ignore the spectacle and carry on listening to the buds in my ears where the lyric “he saved every one of us” resonates tightly with the memory of its mother song; thus blotting out the thunder rumble. I drop my gaze from what lies beyond the kitchen window and stare down at the pan that cradles a rapidly heating concoction of fats and spice. The oils are at the point of imbalance, you know in that quiet moment after sizzle, just before the jump-scare of ignition. Caution James Caution, I step away only a pace after dialling down the burner only a notch and decide my poppadom is ready to be frisbeed in. Splash.

Kitchen window has me again; this time a translucid reflection confirms the strange decision to don a trench coat while cooking—psst there’s no underwear beneath its silken lining either.

The poppadom’s cooked, coat’s fallen open, the lyrics in my buds are at “we only have fourteen hours to save the earth

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Museworthy Man

Typically atypical man from Manchester with aspirations that'll never/maybe/could one day be realisations :-D

25 thoughts on “Fiction…”

    1. Cheers ears, with hindsight, could’ve added some cars, 50s press cameras and aircraft livery to the mash. But then I may have unsteadily approached the precipice of wackiness.

      PS Poppadom spelt write?

      1. Sometimes less is more with a just a glimpse *nods* though mash might go well with the banger.

        Jump.

        (psst – it’s Papadum technically).

        – esme with perfectly normal ears thank you upon the Cloud

        1. Alternative names for papadum:

          pāpaṛ pappad papparde pappadom
          pappadum popadam pompadum poppadam
          poppadom appadum appalum appala
          appoll papari pamporo puppodum
          pampad happala happolu

          Anyway, at least you didn’t singe your buds.

          1. I mistook you there for Madonna, what with your ‘pappadom preach’. 🙂 And aye, I’d have done my Turkish barber out of a job there. Cheers for the info.

          2. You are a shining wit indeed good sir, and I do so appreciate a pun over a spoonerism. 😉 The list of alternative names for poppadum’s was for Esme really, though I appreciated the deliberate typo in your query to her, and can quite understand how I may have across as preachy.

          3. Thank you Hariod. Highly informative of you. Though the very idea that you, you of all souls would be preachy?!! Surely not?! Inconceivable!!

            Poppycock even, dare I say?!!

            Hahahahaha.

            – esme daring and then poppling off fast as her pegs will carry her upon the Cloud.

          4. Oh, I’m so sorry Esme, did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours, my dear?

            – Hariod matching Esme in the sarcasm stakes and raising her a big aloo gobi

  1. Technically there is no correct spelling for poppadom (and to be honest I would have spelled it the same way you did) simply because Indian languages like Hindi or Punjabi don’t use the roman alphabet so using that alphabet is just an approximation of the phonetics of, in this case, the Hindi word. So any letters you choose to approximate the correct phonetics are fine. Indian people do the same things…I think it’s got a bit more standardized to help people recognize their favorite foods more easily, but in cities like Edmonton where I grew up in with a large Indian and Pakistani population, restaurants would have great variations on the spellings. Of course most people who started restaurants weren’t overly educated in English so when the made the menus you’d see a lot of variations.

    This was a hilarious by the way…loved the visual. lol

    Just a man, with a man’s courage,
    He knows nothing but a man
    But he can never fail
    No one but the pure in heart
    May fry in the golden oil,
    Oh oh, oh oh
    F***h.

    Naked in a trenchcoat…F***h? You might be too clever for your own good. Bravo! lol

  2. Cheers for the visit Swarn and info that Hindi’s more a-roamin with our alphabet than Roman.
    I’m secretly pleased I buriedly burrowed the tune in your music garden. 😀

    Also…a nod to the trench coat. 🙂

      1. More like the Scottish Play, hahahaha—sorry for the minor redaction; I made a promise to self at the outset not to have the inferred word on the web page. It’s all an allusion. I was only keeping things on an even keel ’cause Esme had hers stripped from an earlier post. Forgive me.

        1. No problem. But I don’t think Freddie Mercury would be happy. LOL I don’t mind being redacted, I just like to know why. Also because I want to make sure to make my comments respectful to your blog. Cheers!

      2. Dont belive a word of it Swan. He called me a pant stealer the other week!

        – esme of Cloud fame wearing a Balstaff Milton broadcoat buttoned up to the chin since the regrettable stripping incident.

        1. You make me laugh Esme. Can we all live in a village together…you, Hariod, MM, Victoria and just be merry? I live in a part of Pennsylvania with a distinct lack of merriness!

          1. Acquiring the communal living quarters – a slightly dilapidated Elizabethan manor house near the Welsh Border – together with formulation of the rules of engagement and membership requirements, are well underway here in Glastonbury, Swarn. Rough Seas has already agreed to be the house cleaner, and I have (unbeknownst to her) ordered on her behalf two French Maid’s outfits, several feather dusters, and what I thought to be appropriate stilettos for the modern and liberated cleaner woman. The Professor has consented to be the butler and was keen to volunteer to be keeper-in-chief of all amusements, as he called them. Handily, the manor house has an extant and spacious dungeon which shall act as a games room for us, and he kindly has offered to supply copious supplies of feathered handcuffs (?), a shove ha’penny board, four sub-aqua suits (neoprene), a set of four jewel-encrusted, what he terms, ‘Arab Straps’ (?), a Violet Wand (again, I must confess to being mystified) and various Venetian masks, all of which he has already eagerly packed in three of his largest trunks. Esme is to be in charge of wardrobes, vivers, appropriate merriments, poetry, pickle-making and discipline, whilst I shall be Esme’s personal assistant, also overseeing the in-house Scrabble league and (strictly entre-nous) running a black market in non-vegan chocolate below Esme’s radar! You will obviously be on the poppadum’s, advising also on weather matters, but can you perhaps suggest further roles for yourself, and perchance Victoria too? Museworthy Man, it goes without saying, will be our story teller, should he choose to join us. Pink says he’s only coming if he approves of the chandeliers and also on the strict understanding that Rough Seas doesn’t approach him with her feather duster – actually, he didn’t mention the feather duster, come to think of it.

          2. I.
            Had.
            Nothing.
            To.
            Do.
            With.
            That.

            Dear Gods Hariod! *shakes her head* – Note to Swarn and MM – esme is not, and shall never be into dungeons and bdsm. Nothing wrong with it if that’s your bag, but esme”s bag ain’t got a ball gag and gimp suit inside it.

            – esme the mistress of her own misery half the time upon the Cloud

  3. And there’s Hariod telling me I’m ‘vivid’ — unboundedly imaginative yourself there Sir, apropos of things that bind! And those (?) < aplenty, methinks; mereads them as he, Hariod, doth protest too much*. One question; the violet wand? Is that born of a bind or something one buys from Ann Summers? Anyway, how'er it came about. A doffed hat for being FAF (Funny as my here redacted expletive... F**k). Seriously, thanks for the uber-chuckle; I'll be prepping the stories of a 'How's your father' variety in anticipation of the move in. * And Esme, I know she and Gareth Williams were bessie mates! And if it was her bag, then I can understand her wish for anonymity. To Merriness. 🙂

    1. Other than for revealing shoulders still bouncing uncontrollably in mirth at your “born of a bind”, all further elucidations have been packed (after some considerable effort) within a holdall, and, brow perspiring profusely at the exertion of it all, zipped up from within.

    2. Looks like we’ll be needing a rather wide naughty step building too, so I’ll be expecting you to do the knocking up in that area MM.

      – esme sending MM and H to the Cloud’s naughty step right now to think about what they did here.

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