The humble spoon. It looks innocuous. Some might call it benign.
Some have no imagination.
I don’t have a lot of time for people who pride themselves on their knife skills. Cutting out your victim’s heart with a knife, where’s the artistry in that? Also, a knife takes away the element of surprise. You pull a knife, people scream and fight and beg for their lives before you’ve begun to have any fun.
I get my spoon out, people laugh. They think they’ve been pranked, look for the camera.
The only free spot is by the pool table – less than ideal for a date. Standing comes with pitfalls, though – too close, too far away – so he sits down. Should he have waited outside? The place’s packed, she’ll have trouble finding him.
He is certifiable levels crazy for her. He’s afraid it’ll show. She arrives late, which, in a way, is good. His nerves have settled.
‘My favourite table. How did you know?’
‘I had a hunch.’
‘We’ll have to play, obviously. Let me win and you’re my favourite guy.’
No trouble letting her win – he’s never played pool before.
It’s just gone 7am and you are thinking about waking up. You are questioning the music selection on the BBC 6Music Breakfast Show – how are you supposed to wake up to this subdued stuff? It’s 7:11, it’s January, you don’t need gloom.
You’ve got plenty of gloom yourself.
And then Shaun Keaveny says the words which do two things: justify the musical mood and wake you up with a jolt. You heard that wrong. It can’t be true.
You let it sink in.
And you wonder: Will he sing Under Pressure with Freddie again?
You’d like to think so.
Let’s all thank our lucky stars that we were – for a while at least – alive at the same time as David Bowie.
He doesn’t bother looking. She’s become too squeamish, coming to her rescue every time a bug scares her won’t help.
‘What if it stings?’
‘Them buggers haven’t hatched, I wouldn’t think. It’s January.’
‘Ain’t no bluebottle, though. It terrifies me.’
She stifles a scream. Exasperated, he goes into the other room. She’s cowering in the corner, shielding herself with a book. He freezes before he sees it hovering above her. It’s the sound out of his nightmares – the sound of a hornet drone. He curses the day he had the idea.