Nigel

It was a cold dark night, or it could have been a cloudy cold day depending on what time it was, but it was in fact eight and so it was a cold dark night which made Nigel seem more worried than usual. He didn’t like being out so late, not on his own in any case. He worried because of where he lived. It was a time of fear and worry but mostly fear. He lived in a town that often felt dark even if it was not. And if it were not then it would be sunny and people would mill about and do shopping and take their kids to the park. Nigel didn’t like those days either for they made him suspicious. He was a suspicious character with a squint to his left eye and had those eyes, which make people think in the street
“My doesn’t he look suspicious, I wonder what he’s up to.” They were suspicious because they were sunny and nothing in this town should shine so he thought. It was a town that didn’t deserve to shine; it had done nothing good to be worthy of some sunshine. And above all, a sunny day meant that soon after a dark day would follow and they were no good either. Truth be told, Nigel didn’t like any days. He liked the weekend, but only if he got to stay in doors, if he had to go out because he’d forgotten to get any cat food then he would have to go get some, although he wasn’t entirely sure why because he didn’t have a cat, he thought perhaps he was allergic to them but more likely they were just another cold dark day to Nigel.

His mum had once tried to get him a cat, saying it would teach him some responsibility, but instead she had to give it to next door because Nigel didn’t bother feeding it, even though he’d go to the shop and get it. He thought that if a cat was clever enough it wouldn’t let itself starve, he was wrong however when the cat started to look very ill indeed.

Nigel was a strange kid no one liked him, he was suspicious. He also always did weird things, like peeing into bushes instead of using the toilet. Whilst growing up he had not grown out of this habit, and to stop being arrested by those annoying police officer who kept arresting for public exposure and indecency, and Nigel liked to point out that it was in fact they who were acting indecent for trying to stop a bloke from peeing out of a natural hole into a natural bush. But who was he to argue when he had pee dribbling down his left leg, which was always an unfortunate event. But to stop this from happening, he decided to buy a series of buses in his garden, which turned out to be a bit of a pain, because although he hated going out places, he still had to every so often and that meant being away from his garden where he was allowed to pee in bushes. But never mind, he just decided to get arrested and pee down his leg, it wasn’t all bad, it was nice to see how disgusted their faces were when they realised a bit had dribbled onto them and their car seat.

That was life. Nigel had a strange life indeed. He had grown up with it being strange and so he was no stranger to it being strange for the rest of it and he didn’t expect it to change either, he didn’t like change. In fact no one knows if there is anything Nigel likes. He did like one thing long ago. That was Mary. He really liked Mary. She was the only woman who wouldn’t walk away from him when speaking to her. It was a shame she left. She had promised to keep in contact but then she hadn’t. It was a great shame indeed. She had worked with him at the call centre. He didn’t like it there at all! It was a rubbish job with rubbish pay, but that pay did pay for his rubbish flat. It was a small flat, and to say it was rubbish would be a lie. Nigel liked to keep things clean. Clean and orderly like his old mother had used to say. He didn’t like her too much either. Probably where he got this assertion to women walking away from him as he spoke. She was a mean hearted woman who hated Nigel because he was a little maggot, and for a short time in his life, before he started that dreadful school, he thought his name was little maggot and so, accordingly he responded only to being called little maggot.

Mary moved a long way away because she had actually been good at her job and had earned her promotion. She had moved to Wales. Not sure why though, Nigel didn’t much fancy living on a whale; it’d be far too wet, much wetter than London was. And so, his logic meant that did didn’t try at his job because he didn’t want that promotion that so many of the other people he worked with received. He saw many students coming and going, none of them liked the job. Nigel didn’t like them much, they all drunk too much and smoked too much. He knew half of them were wasting time at working doing other stuff they should be. But he didn’t complain. It didn’t seem like he should, if his manager was stupid enough not to notice then just let them get on with it.
And so he missed Mary. Missed her laugh, which seemed to make even the coldest wettest London day seem manageable. He wanted to work when she was there, to just watch her work away with a knowledge of what she was doing and a joy for what she knew she could one day achieve. She was a woman going places. Places like Whales.

The job he did wasn’t an exciting one, he didn’t get to surf the net all day and buy junk from e-bay nor did he get to jump out of planes, or shoot people or do anything that normal men were meant to do. He sat behind a grubby desk, grubby from the years of him working behind it. They had tried to move him once, but he took his desk with him. It was what helped him get through the day, something that felt as grubby as the world but something he could have control of. It was his. And so he would sit typing away and receiving phone calls
“Hello Im phoning because my TV has broken.
“Yes what TV make do you own?”
“Well I don’t know all I know is its broken”
“if you can find out that would be very helpful as the more information I know the more I can try to help you”
“Well if I were a TV person I might know what make it was but im not. All I know is I bought it from the catalogue two weeks ago and now it doesn’t work. And this being your job you should”
“I, in fact am not employed to fix TV’s I give the information you give me to the people who can. Now what catalogue and item number did you use?
“How am I meant to know?”
God Nigel’s’ job was mundane. He hated it. People like that phoned up each and every day. Morons, each and every one of them. Why would someone phone up and not know what TV make they own when trying to get it fixed? Even Nigel had more common sense than that. Because that’s what it took, some common sense. Sometimes Nigel wished he could meet these people so he could call them a moron to their faces and not get fired for it.
It may have been mundane but there was nothing he actually wanted to do. Everything available was rubbish or you had to go to university and then it would still be rubbish, but even worse because you’d only be doing it to pay off thousands of pounds of debt!
So he stayed with this job. It paid and that suited him fine. Even if he did have to put you with annoying people who had somehow managed to get higher up jobs than he had.
Everyday Nigel would go to work; he’d get on the tube and then off again arrive at work, not be greeted by anyone nor though, would he great anyone. That’s how it works in business, no one says hello to anyone unless they say it first, it’s strange how life works. If it worked this way then no one would ever say hello to anyone else…Nigel considered this point on a few occasions and decided that that would suit him fine. He liked the sound of it and so he tried to live by it only slightly changing the rules to mean that if they said hello to him, be it begrudgingly he would continue to not respond. This did have the desired effect and people would not bother to try say hello more than a third time. By then he was known as the arrogant weirdo who looked suspicious.

Everyday after work he would get the tube, get off again and go back home, picking up the cat food on his way. He really should name that non-existent cat of his. But best not to then it would give a reason to buying the food, and he already had his own reasons, he didn’t need any more to add to this confusing tale already. Talking of tales Nigel thought that if he ever did get a cat he would like one without a tale because he could easily imagine himself tripping up on the blasted thing and falling down the stairs. The only problem he realised was that he had no stairs so this was only in his imagination. Imagination or not it still hurt to imagine falling down some stairs, and having to blame a cat, that could damage a mans pride.

His life in all was not very interesting. He didn’t eat fancy food, it was too suspicious, and especially the peanuts, they were suspicious indeed. He didn’t watch TV. That was suspicious also. All those people who were miniature people, he doubted that some of them existed as real sized, that they were breed and mutated to be made to fit into TV screens and work long hours with little reward unless someone decided to turn off their screen, and even then another person would be tuning in to watch. What also made him suspicious was the cinema. Again, they were people breed and mutated to be big and fit onto a screen that size. He didn’t like that because someone that big could easily start to cause all sorts of trouble for London if they were to ever get loose.

And so life would be a scary place if someone were not Nigel he had learnt to cope with all the intricacies of being in this world with the miniature TV people to the giant cinema people, but don’t get him started on TV cartoons they were the most suspicious, they could do things no human could. He dreaded the day they were to come to life and see through buildings, and probably through clothes to reveal the underwear and everything that lay below. If powers like that were in the wrong hand then there would be a lot of sexual harassment clams along the lines of
“He was looking at me in a strange way, so he must have been looking at my boobs” but then how can you tell the difference between who’s worse, a guy with x-ray vision being purvey or a guy being purvey and imagining. Lawyers would have a nightmare trying to argue a case like that, and there would be worse Nigel could imagine. And what about those super human strength guys, they would just throw worlds strongest man all out of proportion.

Nope he didn’t like the thought of superheroes coming to life at all. No way. A hero doesn’t stay one for long the power takes them and they all do something bad.

Nigel would often wonder what it would be like if he were a super hero. He didn’t very much like the thought of having to wear pants on the outside; if he did they would have to be clean and most certainly would not be red. He’d like to be able to make a day, which wasn’t horribly cold and dark, and to make Mary come back. He had liked her. He wanted her back. He knew she wasn’t his but he wanted her to be. Not as a girlfriend because they were too much effort and most women he say at night when going to the shop didn’t look much like women he would like to know. They looked dark and though they were up to things that no woman should have to do, and couldn’t understand why they would want to either. No. He wanted Mary as a friend, but a different friend. He wanted to live with her and spend the rest of his life with her. But, not as his girlfriend. He didn’t know a word for what he wanted and although it is unclassified as an emotion, it existed, and he longed for it.

No he decided that a super hero would not be a good thing to be in this day and age, with all the cynicism going on he would only be caught and dissected, with the promise of putting him back together again. But he doubted the doctors were any different from all the kings’ horses and all the kings’ men.

Although his life wasn’t much to most people. It was important to him. It was like his grubby office desk. It was something he could control. Although he would have to pay tax and inevertibly get ill every so often, which he hated because it meant he didn’t feel too good and that made cold dark days seem longer and London even duller than it already was. He loved his life. That’s a strong word for some. Some people love their partner, till death do they part and sometimes death, whether it be organised or not, did happen, if not then divorce beat them to it. It’s hard to think which of the two would be more pleasant. Death whilst sleeping would seem nice to some, but what if it was death whilst sleeping and someone suffocates you, not so pleasant. All things have an upside, and perhaps the clever ones are the ones who chose when to die. That way their know they have no unfinished business.

Having no unfinished business is a good thing. Unless you fancy coming back as a ghost. Ghosts are people who come back because of unfinished business. Nigel wanted to have unfinished business, especially with that cat of his, if he ever got it and it had no tail. He liked the thought of coming back and haunting someone. He hadn’t decided whether or not he would be a nice ghost or a horrible one. He did have a list though. It was a list of the order in which he would come back and haunt people from his past. The list went something a little like this, it being written in a small book he always kept in his back left pocket, handy for when anyone would happen to annoy him and deserve to be put into his “I’m going to haunt you” book. Nigel could be called obsessive about some things he thought of it as not liking people getting away with being dicks. It had over the years expanded to include fourteen pocket books which would each be filled, every line, then removed from his pocket and place in the box at the top of his wardrobe, he’d have to remember to take that when he died. And when back, he would haunt:
That guy from the shoe shop, what an idiot, if I ask for a size 7 I need that, and no I wont settle for an 8,
That woman who stole my seat on the train. She was fat not pregnant, if she were pregnant she wouldn’t be able to move that fast! Very suspicious.
That dog that peed on my doorstep, he’ll regret that, only use bushes
That kid that spat chewing gum on the tube seat, ill find him one day, then he owes me new trousers.

The list could go on and on, Nigel had considered making it into a book thinking it would make a good read, but he decided against it in case the people who he intended to haunt read it. Then they would be expecting it and he would not enjoy that as much. No he kept them hidden in his back pocket and wardrobe. O and that guy who stole his last book when robbing him will pay the most, that was a whole years worth of haunting in that book. Lost.

Nigel awoke one day, it was a cold day in London. Very cold. He had looked out of his window and though “my that looks like a cold day” and so he didn’t think that day was going to be a good one. And, if he could see far into the future and read the truth hidden in the ripples of pond waters then he would see what the world had in store for him. But he couldn’t. So the waters rippled but no one except an eccentric old woman sitting by a pond in the middle of whales could see the future held for Nigel. And she sat. And she laughed. A laugh so filled with knowledge that you could just tell that Nigel didn’t have much chance of this turning into anything good.

He had a shower, which was considerably colder than it had been the previous night. After checking the boiler he could see that it had broken. Brilliant. A cold day started off with a freezing shower. His head hurt from the cold and so he made some tea. He didn’t really like tea, mainly because it was more often grown in china and he was suspicious of China. Not because he thought they could have bombs and stuff, because to be honest he thought they quite deserved to have at least one bomb, just for protection. Although if you were to be bombed then the last thing you would want was another bomb…just imagine if the two were to collide. That would surely be the end of China. The end of tea. So Nigel sat and drank his tea, which was hot, too hot even after such a cold shower. Nothing could ever be in proportion to anything else could it?

He sat and wondered what the day would have in store for him today. It was a Monday and they weren’t too good in his books because people made it worse by complaining about it being Monday. Of course it was Monday, it always came after Sunday and yet each time everyone wasn’t happy about it. If their not that happy, he thought, then why not just obliterate Monday. Call it salmon day or something. Although he knew people would only go around saying
“O no not another salmon day” and that to be frank, that would sound quite silly.

Salmon were a weird fish. Nigel didn’t think they should be allowed to be called a fish. Yes they swam in the water and could breathe but they also swam against the flow and jumped up river. No fish should do that, that just causes effort and they die trying. Just have babies in an easy to get to place, either way some are going to die, but trying to swim up shore or by bigger fish. Life is mean.

Nigel had finished his tea and was contemplating going to work. He didn’t want to people always phoned after their machines had broken down over the weekend and they got up extra early just to phone. He couldn’t be bothered with them. Just buy a new one. And he didn’t see how all these things kept being broken. He had had a microwave, TV, fridge, not a freezer, they were suspicious and he thought that if they were that could, perhaps they could breed small polar bears to live in them in an attempt to curve their nature decline. But yes he had had all of these machines and none of them had broken down. He reckoned that this was due to the pixies.

The pixies lived in the BT tower in London. It’s a point, which can be seen from everywhere, and so the pixies can watch and wait. They were the ones who would always break things just when you need them. You need to call the bank, they were there cutting the phone lines. You need an ambulance, their the ones draining the machines batteries so the paramedic cant find a heart beat. Which, if not as well trained, could be a big problem if they thought you to be dead, considering they no longer use the practice of a bell and string so if u wake from your coffin you can ring the bell. But yes the pixies broke peoples TVs and made Nigel work. So he hated them. He had often thought of trying to catch them but couldn’t quite think what he’d need for a pixie-catching device.

So Nigel got on the tube to go to his mundane job, on this cold Salmon day morning. On his tube was a fat guy. It sounds mean to call him that, but what else do you call someone who is that fat. He was huge. Nigel didn’t like fat people. They took up too many seats and were often the reason he had to stand. It wasn’t that he would prefer to sit, he would stand be there a seat or not, but he would stand so he didn’t have to sit where other people would sit. He was staring at the fat bloke thinking he would put him onto the list later. One more person that deserved to be haunted.

He stood on the train going past all the stations when all of a sudden he thought he heard his name being called. He dismissed it because lots of people were called Nigel weren’t they? And if it had been said chances were it wasn’t being said to him. He dismissed it another four times and on the fith he had had enough and stopped listening all together. He didn’t want to speak to some one who wouldn’t stop whispering his name.

He continued on his tube for another 20 minuets not hearing that annoying whispering voice saying his name, until it was finally his stop. As he was getting off he was bumped into but an old woman, who was very agile for her age. She continued waling and got a seat on the tube without looking at Nigel once. He was fuming; she would defiantly be on his list.

As he was walking towards his office building, he thought he saw someone he recognised. But couldn’t quite place from where. He kept walking until it hit him. It wasn’t who it was, it was the lamppost which seemed to appear out of nowhere. It bloody hurt too. Nigel was curing the thing as he went to walk on when an old woman hurried past mumbling that he should watch where he steps in future.
“Hey what is that supposed to mean?” he called after her, but she had already turned an invisible corner. Stupid woman. He still had that uneasy feeling that he had met her before. Then it hit him again, but not the lamppost, he was already cursing the God of lampposts for creating the damned things, but the woman was the same woman from the train. She was so definitely in the book with a star to make sure to haunt her good.

Why was she following him? Or was it just a series of coincidences? Nigel decided that she had to be following him because it was too suspicious for it to have just been circumstance. He had to find out if he saw her again what her game was. But he was five minuets late for work. This had never happened; even when trains were late he would be on time, somehow. But this was new. This was change. This was scary. He walked towards his building cursing that old bat for getting in his way, then remembered the lamppost and cursed that some more.

He was at work.

They day that had started off cold and horrible, was only getting worse for Nigel. He sat at his desk and his computer wouldn’t start, he didn’t bother answering the phone because without his computer he would be as useless as the people who phoned. So he ignored it and put the ringer to silent. There was a niggling feeling at the back of his head that Nigel had to be doing something today. Today was normally a day he had liked but he couldn’t remember why. Then it hit him, no not the old woman or the lamppost. It was the fact that today was Mary’s’ birthday she had promised to give him a call on it, as she didn’t have a number when she left, or so she told Nigel. So he doubted that she would be calling today. Today had just gotten a whole lot worse.

He wanted to be happy because he knew today Mary would be smiling and happy but he couldn’t let himself because he missed her and wanted to be with her but she had forgotten him. Then he saw it. There was an envelope on his desk. He hadn’t seen it when he had come in and it had no stamp so he cursed the uselessness of the post office, losing good letters with stamps and sending those without. Nothing made sense. He decided to open it considering he didn’t often get mail at work. Come to think of it he didn’t often get mail at work or home. It was a letter.

“Dear Nigel.

Hello how are you doing? Im having a good time in Wales, its now june and it is wetter than I had imagined it to be. The new job is however very good, I would like you to visit me here. Can you do next month? Let me know if you can my address is”

Damn the post office the letter had gotten wet and the address was very smudged and he couldn’t make out what it said. Actually that wasn’t important this was from June! That was six months ago. Why had this letter turned up now? She had wanted to meet Nigel; she hadn’t forgotten him at all. He continued reading

“So yeah come see me, I’d like to see you. It’s weird not having you with you suspicious ways around.

Love Mary”

She said love! Nigel was happy. He was happy that he was going to Wales to see a woman. A woman named Mary whom he liked. Then it hit him, and for the first time today he was annoyed that things kept hitting him, he made a note to get those bloody pixies, but when he was back from Whales. But he was late. This letter was late and the address was smudged. He couldn’t go to Wales and there was no contact number. He cursed the post office some more. And decided there was nothing to do now so went to his manager to ask for the day off. He had to think and it was no point being here if the computer wasn’t working.

He knocked at the managers’ door,
“Sir. Can I please have the day off, my computer is broken and there’s no point me sitting doing nothing”
“What, no hello today Nigel?”
Silence
“Well I guess I can let you have the rest of the day off, you haven’t used any of your annual leave and it all gets reset in two months”
“ O in that case, can I take all four weeks worth off, and have January off? I have some thinking to do and I think some of that will take place in Wales. I’m going to go see Mary”
“O I hear she’s doing fine over there”
“How do you know? Do you have a number, or an address?”
“Nigel you know I can’t give details out”
“o but you have to, I got a letter today and it had an address but it was smudged, here look!” he thrust the letter into the mans face enthusiastically ,Nigel for once in his life was getting excited. He had a way that he could contact Mary.
“Nigel, I can’t. And besides. No wait. See here, the stamp says its from this place, and there is only one place in Wales called that so go there, its bound to be where she is.
“What stamp?
“A?”
“O never mind, thank you, I have to go”

Nigel was very excited indeed. He now had a goal he was going to Wales in January to try find Mary. As he walked from his building he smiled to himself. Smiled and remembered he had to get the cat food on his way home.
“Bloody woman, watch where your going” Another crazy old woman was walking into him. Today was a day to watch out for them. She carried on walking sniggering to herself mumbling something about Wales. Wait. He knew her it was that woman from the train she was everywhere.
“Well yes I am everywhere, and you ignored me. No one has ignored me for that long”
“Why are you talking to me, I don’t know who you are and today, on salmon day is not worth talking to me”
“Ah yes now’s the time you invent salmon day, you’ll be glad to hear that it does take off and soon everyone will refer to it as salmon day but they will also dread salmon day as much as they did Monday. So you’re not really changing anything in life”
“Well that’s good I don’t like change” and he didn’t.

Nigel walked on a few steps before he realised that he was being followed, if that’s that bloody old bat eh thought turning round. But it wasn’t, there wasn’t anyone there. He continued walking but still thought he was being followed
“Nigel”
“Ha I knew you were following me!” as he jumped around, but she wasn’t there “now that is very suspicious indeed”
Nigel kept on walking until he got up to his flat door and started to turn the key. Next doors door creaked a bit and he realised it wasn’t fully closed. As he got closer it slammed shut quickly. That was weird, but he thought nothing more of it. Upon returning to his door he noticed that his keys which had been in the lock had now disappeared. Now this was beginning to become a pain. He was not up for playing silly buggers. Not at all.

The old woman laughed as she walked down the stairs throwing and catching something small and suspiciously looking like keys. And in fact there were Nigel’s keys. He would not be happy if he knew she had them, she was already on the list with two stars next to her.

Where had his bloody keys gone? He only turned round for a second. This was turning out to be a bad day again. Although he reminded himself that he was going to be on his way to Wales next month that excited him in ways he’d never felt before. Something he actually wanted to do. He hadn’t thought about whom he would get to feed his cat the thing always needed some cat food each day, in the afternoon. It never struck Nigel that feeding a cat once wasn’t much at all, and perhaps if he ever did get that cat without a tail, then it may not be able to survive living with him for very long, if it did then it would have to be the most adaptable cat known. They could do experiments on it or clone it or something it would be that amazing.

The old woman walked out of the set of flats and placed the keys in a letterbox, it would turn out to be Nigel’s letterbox. She placed them there with a small card with the sentence “he be he who look upon the water, he be she who look upon the sand” and with that she walked away muttering to herself about rhubarb. To point out for an interesting fact, she was discussing with herself the fact of whether rhubarb was a fruit or a vegetable. It is often considered vegetable but it features in deserts, she couldn’t come to any straight conclusion.

Nigel was fuming he knew he had just had his keys and he knew someone had stolen them. He stomped back down the stairs to the entrance hall. He wasn’t sure of what he was doing but he thought that this felt right. Then he saw it, sticking out of his post box was a plastic smiley face key ring, ironic really but Nigel kept it because it was suspicious and wondered who had come up with such a bad idea.

He walked back upstairs considering what the strange note that he found with his keys could possibly mean. He had a suspicion it had something to do with that daft old bat that had been following him all day and wouldn’t watch where she was going. “He be he who look upon the water, he be she who look upon the sand” what on earth could that mean?

Nigel walked into his flat, and instantly realised that because of all the days distractions and events he had totally forgotten to get the cat food! Now he was going to have to go back out which he really didn’t fancy doing but if he didn’t then what was the point anymore. Besides he’d have to start stocking up soon if he was going to go to Wales.

He did up his coat and entered the cool afternoon air. He had resigned to go and get the cat food. Otherwise he would anger whatever he thought he would anger. He wasn’t sure what he thought he could anger. But if he were to take a guess at what it would look like it would be small and insignificant, but with a fury that would rage even the deepest ocean into a frenzy which would claim hundreds of boats and lives. That was something he really didn’t want to upset. And so he bought the cat food. It was the same flavour as always, if the cat he didn’t have was going to be picky it could damn well go and get its own food if it didn’t like tuna flavoured chunks of mush.

Nigel left the shop with his cat food in a bag, and he had decided to buy himself a bar of chocolate. It was whole nut. He didn’t often do that but he thought it was a day to celebrate because he knew Mary wanted to see him, she hadn’t forgotten him after all and that made him happy. He had a chance to be with her after all.
“Ow watch where your going” Nigel had yet again been walked into by an old woman “You people need to stop being so idle” and with that he recognised her
“You again! Why are you doing this, why take my keys and leave a note which means sod all?” Nigel was going red in the face, all of today’s incidents with this old hag had gotten on top of him, and he had had enough of her and she hadn’t even said sorry for any of it.
“Hehehehehehe you will see all in good time Nigel the suspicious” The old woman tried to walk away but Nigel had blocked her path before she had a chance
“I don’t think so, not this time, tell me what all this is about”
“All in good time like I say, the stone has been dropped and the ripples have started soon all will be come clear. Go to Wales Nigel and find Mary that is where it will all begin. But beware, obstacles like reeds, will stand in your way and distort the ripples.” And with that she batted her way past him and ran off into some very fast appearing fog, which seemed to swallow her whole.

Nigel had tried to run after her but the fog had chocked him, almost as if it were alive and trying to protect the secret it held so dearly that no other could come within its grasp, and if they should they would soon be struck down with a slow chocking death. He gave up and stumbled out of the fog chocking on the air as it entered his clogged lungs. It stung but it felt good to feel oxygen start to circulate his body. Damn that old woman she was being more annoying that usual with her riddles which meant nothing to him. He understood some of what she said of ripples but he didn’t really know what it meant from being uninterested in school and what it had to offer him.

He walked home wondering whether he could have imagined that old woman. She was a mysterious character who just seemed to appear from nowhere. It all didn’t make any sense. He wanted to get down to the bottom of things. But one thing made him not miserable to keep meeting her. She knew of Mary. She knew that he was going to Wales to see Mary and she had said that that was the right thing to do. He knew he had to go now. You have to do something if an old woman who disappears into deadly fog tells you to. He couldn’t wait until February. He had to go now.

Nigel rushed home with his cat food and got indoors before any other old women had a chance to steal his keys and send him a bit mad. He shut his door without realising that the door, which had early been open, and watching him had once again opened.

Inside the flat was warm. It was cosy but Nigel didn’t notice any of this, he phoned up his office but all he got was the answer machine,
“Hello. This is the office of Ben Bigely. We are closed but our hours are nine till five, weekdays. Please feel free to leave a message after the tone”
“Yep, its Nigel I’m afraid I will need to change my planes cant explain because you wont care, but I will be leaving for Wales tomorrow and so I wish to take my annual leave from nine tomorrow morning.” He hung up. There was no point saying thank you or leaving a number because Nigel knew they wouldn’t like his sudden departure and that if he wasn’t such a reliable worker the rest of the time he would most certainly be fired. But he wasn’t worried, they wouldn’t fire him, they would just be very annoyed. So he didn’t leave a number, because if they were annoyed he didn’t want them shouting at him whilst he was with Mary. He was going to enjoy this trip to Wales.
This trip was the first Nigel had ever been on. He had never crossed the seas in a boat. This entire trip was going to have to be arranged tonight.

Nigel got started by finding his phone book, he didn’t see the point in these because anyone he wanted to phone he would have their number, but the only person he wanted to phone was Mary, but he didn’t have a Wales phone book. And other than that he had never used it and no one would have used it to find him because he was too suspicious to let strangers be able to find him just by looking in a book. He found what he was looking for. He found a coach company that would be going to Wales. He found it strange that after expecting to go over seas, because where else would Wales be if not out at sea, to find it would be fully over land to get to Wales. He was quite unimpressed but he booked the coach all the same, it would be leaving at six in the morning. That gave him nine hours to get everything else sorted

The cat! How could he have over looked this fact? He had no time to go and get more food because the shop would have closed ten minuets ago. He had to make a decision quick. He didn’t want to upset anything, especially since the old woman had warned that things would stand in his way. Nigel made a quick decision. The cat would have to come with him. It would be a pain to travel with but it was the only way, as he didn’t trust anyone else to feed it nor to go into his flat to feed it.

Nigel had to get moving, he had booked his seat on the earliest coach that was going to Wales, and he had sorted out the cat. All he had to do was pack his suitcase. Only problem was because Nigel hadn’t been on holiday before, he didn’t have a suitcase. All he had was his over the shoulder bag. That will have to do, he thought to himself as he shoved a few pairs of socks, clean underwear and some jumpers into it. If he had to he would buy a bigger bag on the way but he would try avoid that because he didn’t like new bags, you don’t know what they could have been used to carry along their trip to your possession.

With his bag packed and his cat strapped into its case with its food, Nigel did a sweep of the house, every window was closed, every door had been locked, all the taps were fully turned off, and the heating was most certainly switched off, he wouldn’t need it on whilst he was away, although he was already dreading returning to a cold house. But that was something he couldn’t avoid considering he’d be away fro a week or so. He’d use the money he saved to buy a new coat. He had been meaning to get one for a while, and this was the perfect opportunity to invest in one. It would have to be black though, because any other colour is just inviting trouble to attack you.

Nigel had finished securing his home for his return as he was leaving the flat, it had taken him six hours to make sure everything was perfect and all in order. That left him with two hours to get to the coach station, plenty of time. He shut the door, picked up the cat and threw his shoulder bag over his shoulder. A door closed. Without turning around he knew it was the same door as earlier, but he paid no attention to it. If he had, and have taken notice of the slight shift of weight in his cat bag, he would have noticed the small creature, which will only been seen by the eyes on true non-believers.

Nigel had an hour to get to the coach station, it would have taken him only 30 minuets had he decided to wait for the cab he had earlier phoned for, but he fancied the walk, something was telling him that a cab would not be the right decision.

At that exact time as Nigel was walking toward the coach station, a taxi had picked up a middle aged couple. It had gone to Nigel’s flat, but no one was there. He was annoyed, as it had cost him petrol, so he decided to take the first person that stuck out their hand.

The couple were a loving couple, all huddled together from the early morning cold. Her with her white coat on and him with his grey. They decided to get a cab because it was too cold to walk and they saw one straightaway and thought their luck was in.

The cab took off, and the driver was in a rush, he wasn’t sure why but his blood pressure had started to rise and it was making him agitated, the lights turned red and he didn’t stop because he was already though them, practically. He kept going until he saw the lights from the side. It was a tram.

The tram driver saw the car too late. He put on his brakes but braced himself for an impact. He was going too fast and the car appeared not to see him. Then they collided. The tram carts were thrown off of their tract from the impact, and people screamed as it fell to the ground and continued to slide along the pavement creating a shower of sparks.

The cab driver turned his head as the tram collided the last thing he thought was my wife. And then the car began to spin widely out of control, and flipped, tossing the dead driver and his passengers across the street. Everything slid to a halt, and the street was all at once eerily silent.

Nigel stopped and looked around himself, he had heard an almighty crash in the near distance, and wondered what could have happened. He didn’t stop for long because he had underestimated the cold and had walked slowly trying to cover his hands after forgetting his gloves in the rush. He decided that the crash was nothing to do with him, and he walked faster huddling himself against the slight breeze which carried a hint of the coming winter on it. He was glad he was leaving London, even if Wales was looking like it was going to be very wet indeed.

Back at the crash site people had started to pour out of their houses. Rallied by the screaming that came from the tram wreckage, the little impling sat and wondered why people make such a fuss, it would make things much easier to not scream then there is more chance of help. But he wasn’t complaining, it amused him to see so much pain. After all he was allowed to be amused since his intended victim had escaped, curse the human mind for being so easily distracted. His eyes were draw to the car that had been a surprise, he knew it would crash but he didn’t know how and hit by tram was certainly an intriguing turn of events. He wished Nigel had been in that car. He wondered who had been instead.

From the car came a quiet wailing. It grew and peoples suspicious were aroused. They started to move towards the car, which they had earlier dismiss as there was no sound and they were either convinced no one could survive, or probably closer, they were too afraid to look upon the grisly scene that would lay before them. The wailing grew louder, and peoples faces looked shocked as a sense of knowing hit them full force. It was a baby. A baby had survived the crash and was in a desperate situation.

The impling was growing more interested. A baby was certainly a turn in events. How did it survive he wondered. This fact got him interested. He had to see this baby for himself. He slid down from the lamppost, transforming into a slender human as he did so. His hair grew into shoulder length brown locks, and his rough skin turned into a smart brown suit. All in all he turned in to a marvel of a man. The face was sculpted by an expert, having done this more than once the impling had become perfect, taking bits from each human he saw and disregarding parts of others that he did not find attractive.

He stalked over to the car wreck and peered in, seeing the mangled bodies of the parents he smiled, and then to see a small head poking from the mothers coat his grin widened. This was indeed interesting. The baby had survived because his mother had protected him in her coat. The impling decided that this opportunity was too good to miss and that he could use this to his advantage, and with that he leaned in and scooped the boy into his arms. The crowd didn’t seem to see a thing yet all felt unease. They looked into the car but none could see the baby they had just heard.

Nigel had been waiting for his coach. It was late to leave the station and he wasn’t happy about having to stand around in the cold dark morning air. Not to mention the number of kids that seemed to be up and out this early with their parents making them go to Wales. He was just standing, thinking to himself of what Wales would be like when he got there. He was imagining all sorts of things mainly that it would be wet. And that he wasn’t looking forward to.

The coach eventually started loading on people. The driver was saying that it was down to a fault with the oil, and that it had been drained, which was strange because they were checked weekly. So the company had sent another coach to collect the people. Nigel didn’t have to put any bags in the luggage, his shoulder bag was hand luggage and so he got on and found his seat. He sat and waited for everyone else to pile onto the coach and wondered if any of these people had been given promotions to Wales for being a good worker. That was until a small child sat down next to him.
“Hello Mr” the kid was short Nigel reckoned he was about eight. And that meant he was less inclined to talk to him
“Im going to Wales to visit my granny. She lives there but complains about the wet a lot”
Nigel started to warm to this kid, he knew it was wet in Wales. “I don’t get to see her a lot but mummy said we can because im nine tomorrow”
“O is that so?” Nigel surprised even himself by speaking to the kid. “So have you been to Wales before?”
“O yes loads, well twice but its more than some people. I like it there because granny gives me biscuits and sweets”
This banter seemed to go on for most of the journey, Nigel was liking the kid more and more, he didn’t say much that meant anything but he was an easy talk and didn’t have any assumptions about people all he knew was that he loved his granny and was going all the way to Wales to see her. The only time the talk stopped was when the kid fell asleep leaning on Nigel’s arm. Not a bad kid all in all.

The coach drove along the long roads and quite a speed. And the passengers all muttered and mumbled together. They were all unaware that back in London the impling was stalking through the shadows of London cradling his stolen baby hushing it to sleep with gentle lullabies filled with sorrow
“Hush little child don’t be sad, im the one who helped to kill your dad, but don’t you worry it wont be long, till I can help you with a song. The winters will be cold and your heart grow old but don’t you worry because it will soon be over, and you can avenge your mother” The boy gurgled and spat as he wriggled with the song being sung over and over. His little eyes, so innocent and unknowing of the tragedy that had just befouled his parents and even less aware that the man now carrying him had caused part of it. His life was going to be a worrying one.

Nigel had started to drift off on the coach when he entered a dream world that scared him awake. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep but it was too long. He saw a world that had been torn at the seams, with the universe collapsing in on it, pieces of empty sky leaking through the holes causing the world beneath to turn to a cold land, crops had died long ago, dead sheep were the only things left to graze the dread grass. Their lifeless eyes in endless torment. Humans stumbled around choking from the thick fog. Nigel was amongst them walking but not knowing where, he was choking and an old woman was pointing for him to turn around. He turned in time to see the sky tear into two as the final seam came undone and the darkness poured in upon him.

He didn’t like the dream. He recognised the old woman to be the one that had told him to go to Wales. He wondered if he was right to go on the whim of an old woman who somehow knew what he was planning to do. It hit him that what he was doing was insane. He trusted an old hag who had stolen his keys, and if she had done it once she could have done it before and could have snooped around his house looking for stuff. He was annoyed. He didn’t know what at but he was none the less annoyed because he was scared of the dream he didn’t know what it could mean and that he didn’t like. His waking woke the kid next to him, but he soon settled back down mumbling to himself about gingerbread men.

Nigel settled back down to his thoughts and all the while the small creature in his bag was creating. He had a small box on his lap, and it was open. The screen seemed to light itself but had the glow of a candle. The box was contained a small globe it was a miniature replica of the earth. He was sewing it together where it had been bashed from the bumpy ride. He muttered to himself about why was he the one who had to accompany this moron Nigel to Wales. He was happy staying at home where it was warm and not wet not in Wales. It was also rubbish because he was stuck in this stuffy bag with unattractive white underwear and socks. All in all Miguel was not happy with that old woman telling him what to do and giving him no time to prepare. She hadn’t even told him her name! Some gratitude.