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The History of the Future

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If this era resembled the visions of the writers and orators who dominated the second half of the previous century, then how much did they determine it? How much was self-fulfilling? After all, didn’t human endeavour create the template for this?

(Alex Manahan. Mayday Journal)

Excerpt from forthcoming novel, Nova Compendium

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End of the World (again)

Endoftheworld2

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Protection Racket

Protection racket

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Cooperation

Cooperation

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Freedom of Thought

Freedom of thought

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Human Mythology

Human Mythology 2

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Book Burning

Book burning

The Celestial Suburban Sawmill

Frank has driven the young Rachel to see her boyfriend at the hospital. They are parked outside the building.
‘… I suppose Janey’s body could have been dumped in the river since the search.’ Then she added, smirking, ‘You’re not something to do with her disappearance are you, Frank? Why are you so interested in Janey?’
‘Isn’t everyone?’
‘Interested now she’s missing, I suppose. Probably no one cared before.’
‘I imagine her parents cared.’
‘Well, she’s done us a favour. Not much excitement in a town like this. It was suburban dullsville.’
‘I’ve never understood why people are so sneering about the suburbs.’
‘Thought it was just me.’
‘There’s plenty of excitement if you use your imagination. There’s always someone with a sawmill in a distant garden, or lawn mower at seven on a Sunday morning. ‘
‘You’re weird,’ she said pulling an incredulous face.
Two people in dressing gowns walked past the car; one dragged an oxygen bottle and the other was smoking a pipe.
They headed towards the ward with their slippers flopping in the dirt. In the middle distance some children were shuffling along a ridge on the railway bridge by the painted Ferodo Brakes advert.
Rachel was half watching them.
I said, ‘During heatwaves I like to walk around the streets, sometimes with my wife on a Sunday afternoon. But we can never locate the sawmill. You seldom see anyone. And we wonder whether the occupants of the houses are lying in cool curtained bedrooms, or cutting up bodies in bathrooms. ’
Rachel lowered her head slowly and peered at me through the top of her sunglasses. ‘They’re probably hiding from you. Did the army screw you up or what?’
‘Yes, it did,’ I said confidentially. ‘There are suburbs of Derry that look just like ours, but they are actually teeming with danger.
The action does not just take place by the barricades on the evening news… It’s funny to think that no matter where or who you are in the world, there’s always someone who wants to kill you, soldier or civilian. Some lunatic somewhere probably has a cross-hair picture of me in his wallet.’
‘I think I would shoot you if I was your wife. I can see why you’re friends now. You and PK are the same… Sitting around talking rubbish.’
I opened the car door. ‘He never charged me anything for selling that bike.’
‘Probably just forgot.’
’Let’s get in and see the old bugger shall we?’
‘Listen,’ she said, ‘I’m okay here. Send PK my love.’
(An extract from the novel Distraction: Out of the Silent Suburb)
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The future is not what it used to be (2)

Dystopia2

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The future is not what it used to be (2)

Dystopia2