The Morning After (1/3) By Joe Hakim

(1/3), (2/3), (3/3).

They'll be here soon. There's nothing much to do other than wait, so I make another strong cup of coffee and light up another cigarette. Even these seemingly arbitrary actions are cast into a new focus now. This patch of time I'm occupying is a bridge - a bridge that spans the space between the way my life used to be and the way it's going to be. I look around my living room but everything makes me think about what's happened, so I go over to the mantelpiece and turn a couple of photos face down.

Matters aren't helped by the remnants of the drugs running through my system. A come-down is always a bitch, but today I feel like the entire world is pressing down on the top of my head. Normally I'd be smoking a few joints and maybe snuggling up to my partner and trying to instigate some sweaty come-down sex, but not today. The tears have stopped, for now at least. The initial rush of emotion has turned into a muted panic that has left me blank and paralysed. There were a few pills left, and I briefly considered swallowing them in an attempt to kill myself, but by the time they'd have kicked in they would be here, and I'd have to deal with everything while coming up.

Knowing my luck, the pills probably wouldn't even kill me; they'd just send me reeling into an almighty head-fuck. Jeezus, why did this shit have to happen? I know it's really fuckin' selfish to be thinking about myself at a time like this but I can't help it. Maybe it's just survival instinct or something like that. The pills and the last of the dope have been flushed away; there's no sense in getting myself into even more trouble. I saved a little bit of dope, and with trembling fingers I set about knocking up a spliff, the last one I'll be able to smoke for a long time. I can't move, can't bear to even go near the bedroom. The paranoia and fear has swollen to such a size that it no longer even registers - it's just a dull buzz in the back of my brain.

Flashback to a few hours ago, the previous night when we were getting ready, and all we were thinking about was the night ahead and things we were going to do. My partner is in front of the mirror saying, 'Baby, let's get totally fucked, and when we get home, let's fuck like bunnies.' I smile and say, 'That sounds like a plan and a half, baby.' We haven't taken anything yet. I'm laid on the bed in my underwear smoking a joint and Gnarls Barkley's on the stereo. I pick up a bottle of Peroni and take a swig, followed by a deep drag on my spliff, and I lay back and shut my eyes and let the buzz of anticipation sweep through me.

We go out most weekends, but we never get bored. That's the beauty of getting fucked up: you can go to the same places, see the same people but everything is new and different. We're meeting Paul in an hour to get the pills, and he's got a little treat for us: some Viagra. My partner turns around and winks at me and says, 'I know we don't need any help from chemicals when we fuck, but let's see if we can break some records tonight.' 'Oh yeah,' I reply, as the smoke escapes from my mouth.

Continued...Next Page (2/3)

Fiction - In A Room By Joe Hakim
	I wish there were bars so I could hold them, wrap my fingers around the cold steel and press my face in between them, but it's just a room, I'm in a dark room with no windows and no features, so I just sit and think and think and think. I am a captive, a hostage in a foreign country. I'm apart from my family and friends and I don't know if I'll ever see them again. Every so Read more...

Fiction - Buried In The Past By Joe Hakim
	Arriving back in Hull, the first thing that hits me is just how much hasn't changed. As I walk down Princes Ave, I look at all the café bars that have sprang up to replace the odd little shops and businesses that used to line it, but it still feels the same somehow. There's a kind of progress, I suppose - even if progress means it's starting to resemble everywhere else in Britain - Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 2: Prologue (June 1904: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
	From the outside the two-storey building looked even more forbidding now than the first time I saw it. Eighteen more years of Hull soot had turned bricks from red to dark brown. The dank smell of Grandmother's skirt returned to me. I caught my breath. So many emotions stirred inside me. Doors in my mind that I'd kept closed for so long were opening again but this time Read more...

Fiction - Red Carpet Blues By Steve Rudd
	'One more word out of you, and it'll be your last - I promise.' The ice-cold gun nudging Ellie's temple was motivation enough for her to keep her mouth shut, as she trembled with fear. She daren't even sob in case her captor construed that any form of noise was reason enough to blow her brains out without further ado. So much for being a superstar in her own right, Read more...

Fiction - 'I Do' By Steve Rudd
	Nobody told me marriage would be like this. I thought it would be bliss, day in and day out, but problems soon surfaced, after our hastily arranged elopement in good old Gretna - that bizarre little settlement that straddles the border between England and Scotland as though it can't quite decide where it stands; where it belongs; which side of the metaphorical fence it is Read more...

Fiction - Two Sides : A Friday Night Out In Hull By Joe Hakim
	I'm just finishing off at work, watching the clock and loading the pot-wash with plates and cups, waiting for Sarah to start her shift so I can go home. It's been a really busy day, so I'll be glad to see the back of the fuckin' place. I've been working at Sparks cafè bar on Newland Ave for over a year, but it's only been in the past couple of months it's got really busy. Fridays are Read more...

Fiction - Complicity Part 6 By Nick Quantrill
	Complicity is the new crime-fiction novella set in Hull featuring Detective Sergeant Coleman and Detective Constable Maynard. The thisisull.com serialisation is accompanied by the stunning black and white photography of Roland Standaert, which illustrates the story and takes a unique look at the city. Complicity and other stories are available for free. Read more...

Fiction - Gloomy Sunday By Joe Hakim
	As we got closer I could see it framed against the horizon. From this distance it just looked like a huge black shape, like a giant lump of coal or something. "Jeezus, it's huge," I said. "Yeah, I'm guessing it's a male," Mike said. "Could be about fifty tonnes of whale washed up down there." Mike was a marine biologist. He'd been given the task of studying Read more...

Fiction - Kat Out of the Bag Chapter Thirteen By Steve Rudd
	I remembered the ring simply because it wasn't the type of ring that a man would usually choose to include in his pro-macho jewellery box. The rare stone at its heart shone like a bewildering beacon demanding attention in the pits of hell, while its subtly alluring design was elaborately detailed yet delicate. To all intents and purposes it looked like a lady's bridal ring, and thus the plot thickened. Read more...

Fiction - The M1 McDonalds Girl and the Most Suitable Bloke By Andy Bilton
	So I'm heading home. Heading north. Eighty, on the M1, just south of Sheffield. Pissing it down. That horizontal stuff that totally obscures your view, your only safe option being to get in to the inside lane and follow the red cat's eyes. Not ideal weather conditions for a must-get-there-quicker sort of situation such as this. I should slow down really but Helen's already been on the mobile Read more...

Fiction - Welcome To Hellville - Part 16 By Rich Mills
	"What music are you into, man?" The American exchange student who had earlier introduced himself, without any regard for Alan's need to be alone, suddenly threw a curve-ball of a question like this in his direction. "Well I listen to..." What followed was a definitive list of bands from Alan's wide-ranging rare vinyl and CD collection, he even Read more...

Fiction - The Guy Who Had All The Time In The World By Joe Hakim
	Sometimes it gets to be a bit too fuckin' much, I decide, after another day spent wandering the streets aimlessly. The sky is still bright purple - the colour of a fresh bruise - and the streets are still completely silent; not even the sound of birds chirping or distant traffic in the distance. Aside from that, everything seems to be much the same, at least on the surface. There's no visible Read more...

Fiction - The Burden - A Short Story By Joe Hakim
	I step out into the sun and close my eyes, letting the light wash over my face. It's cold, and the wind pinches my cheeks but I feel complete, for the first time ever. Today the world is different. Today is the first day of a new beginning. Everything feels real and vivid, and I bathe in it, taking it all in like a child seeing a painting for the first time, judging the angles and Read more...

Fiction - Two Extracts from The Shintae - a Novel by Brian R Hill
	The Shintae is a new fantasy novel by Yorkshire writer Brian Hill. The novel is due to be published by Publish America sometime around the Christmas period but is currently available online at www.amazon.com , www.publishamerica.com , www.barnesandnoble.com and www.whsmith.com. The ISBN number is 1-4137-8322-4. For more information Read more...

Fiction - Zero and the Neighbours Part 1 - Demo version 0.1 By Joe Hakim
	Frank was one of the regulars. From the first day I started dealing poker on the tables, Frank was there. To look at, he was your typical moody old man - old in the Father Christmas sense - white hair, a huge white beard and a round gut that hung out of his shirt and over his belt. You could imagine him sat in a grotto in the bottom of Princes Quay with some mewling Read more...

Fiction - Just like Eddie by Bob Spence
	I don't know exactly when I got into it but there you are. Like most lads, I suppose it was the thought of being Bristol's answer to Elvis that was some kind of inspiration. Yes that was always there in the back of my mind, but the accent never sounded quite right to be fair. Anyway. The South Deans Village Youth Club was a right place back then and we used Read more...

Fiction - The Wall by Darren Sant
	Sometimes your best is just not enough. Panic stricken and panting I arrive. There it is, a fucking huge wall. An obstacle blocking my progress. A visible representation of all that I can't achieve. Nervously I look behind me. I lash out at it, kicking and punching but to no avail. It is rock solid. I jump but find it too high. I take a running jump Read more...

Fiction - Divine by Blair Ashworth
	"Mein Führer? Mein Führer?" The old man in the long grey coat was bent over the body slumped in the chair. "Give it a few more seconds, Henry," said the doctor. "Do you speak any German? It might lessen the shock." No, Henry didn't speak any German and he didn't much care about any shocks he might deliver. Behind the heavy oak chair, Read more...

Fiction - Scissors, Paper, Stone! By Bob Spence
	The Lord Nelson was your typical run-down seventies pub. The decor was in disarray, with half a mind to venerate the Royal Navy's biggest hero or to catch the eye of the potential clientele with the latest fashion. In this manner it achieved neither. Mickey was the prototype glass collector for every Read more...

Fiction - Drowning, Swimming By Joe Hakim
	Keith sat and stared at his wife, who was holding his daughter and staring at the 28" Philips Widescreen TV situated in the corner of his house, on his laminate floor, flanked at either side by his Sony sound system and his X-Box. He was sweating and his head was throbbing - the general effects of the weekend Read more...