I (sometimes) call myself Mr. Pondersome. I'm a rather wordy, weirdy person. I say hullo a lot. I write a lot more. While you're here, why not give some of it a read?

Saturday, 28 December 2013


            'And is that the receipt?'
            'Oh, yeah.' he passed it across to the customer service worker.
            A cacophony of beeps started up. He turned his head to yawn.
            'Hey,' a voice spoke up beside him, 'Just cleaned up the condiments aisle. Joe told me to tell you.'
            'Right,' the customer service worker said.
            He glanced up at the sales assistant. He mouthed 'Annabel' though she wasn't looking at him. She left as quietly as she had appeared.
            '£5.20, sir.' the customer service worker held out the exact change.
            'Cheers,' he said, slowly pulling out his wallet. Money still in hand, he walked away.

            An hour later, he was still in the shop. He scrutinised the electronics section, eventually pulling out a self-stirring mug.
            'I was fairly certain it was him.' he recognised Annabel's voice instantly, even from behind a shelf.
            'And you didn't say anything?' the other voice was husky but feminine.
            'Can't, can I? He's a customer.'
            'Rules don't work like that. So he knew your brother?'
            'They fell out a year back.'
            'But he knows?'
            'It's public knowledge.'
            He replaced the mug on the shelf and moved onto the next aisle.

            'What's happened to Ben?' he eventually said.


  1. Keep going, Owen. Do you have an idea what is going on here? It seems to be following a plan. I like the (frustration - tension - lack of info). It tantalises but be careful not to confuse. (not that I am)

  2. Hi Bob. To be honest, when I wrote this particular extract, I already had the plan roughly sketched out. Now it's just a case of colouring in the detail as I go along. Thanks for reading! :)