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Tag Archives: urban legends

It’s the short cut. The one behind the corner shop that dips down through a strange stretch of scrubby urban wasteland and creeps out under the one working streetlight on that back road. Even at night, the path is clear enough from here – a thin, pale dragline with the welcome beacon of light diffusing the farther end.

Between here and there though is the blur of indistinct twilit shapes on either side. They’re probably just tree skeletons clutching at each other overhead, or dead kitchen appliances and dismembered shopping trolleys, or bare-branched bushes harbouring a feral cat or mouldering midden or the broken remnants of a drunken binge.

It’s tempting to stop and look back about halfway down. The stolid reassurance of the shop’s back wall and the battered garbage bins and the quiet empty path behind.

However, while looking back, what lies in front is no longer in sight. 

A quick glance forward is enough to guarantee there is nothing ahead but the stillness and the shadows and the cold street light ahead.

Of course, one should never discount the shadows though. You see – you’re not the only one who likes to make short cuts.

We do too.

And this won’t take long…




You know the game.

1. Brix has dropped out of school, never to return.   Apparently this Tim guy heard Mrs Keech tell Mr Williams when he went to pick up the sports storeroom key from the office, and he sent some girl called Mel a text, and she told Claudia in English class, who promptly told her girlfriend Harm – who told me.   Thus spake the oracle.

2. Daisy and Dwayne may sound like the recipe for a particularly bad sitcom, but apparently she has this dude she has a deal with.   He disposes of her ‘dinner’ remains, and she knits him bed socks.   She says I’m going to love him, and us two lads are going to have a lot in common – how’s that for some fucking fatal last words?   It’s like “You can’t miss it” or “It’s running like a dream,” or “Did you hear that strange noise?”   You just know it’s going to end with you lost in the middle of nowhere with a car that won’t fucking start and a serial killer perched on your roof, brandishing your luckless boyfriend’s head.

[As a side note and a serial killer myself – why the fuck in those stories is the psycho always leaving body parts around to make eerie sounds and leave clues to the mystery?   Weird and messy.  Plus someone always seems to live to tell the tale – where’s the fun in that?]

3. After due consideration, the touching visit from Kane last week, and getting that come-uppance from the Cat yesterday, I’d like to announce that I’m giving up a delicious unlife of danger, death-dealing and debauchery to take up thunderstorm baseball, become a ‘vegetarian’, and develop a disturbing affinity for body glitter.










Seriously?   You had to fucking check which was the lie?


The fuck.

Outta here.