Heaven’s Lottery (Part 2 of 2)

We didn’t leave the house that night though we could hear others gathered outside talking away. A lot of them were still out when we got up next morning. The street was littered with cans.

The Whelan’s were sayin’ it was the end of days, preachin’ about the final Judgement. That didn’t go down well with The Richmond’s. The young couple clearly didn’t fancy their chances in whatever the trial would be and were determined that if it was the End of Days, they’d bloody well enjoy it.

Someone had found a guitar. Oasis tunes were screeched out from Number 37. A few of our neighbours, those that should have known better, joined the growing entourage on the Richmond front lawn. The chordless wonder never let up, satisfying the beery shouted requests of the group. Read more

Heaven’s Lottery (Part 1 of 2)

When you picture the world endin’ it usually don’t have the soundtrack of Johnny Logan playin’. I got nothin’ against the man myself. If a body’s got talent, plough on I says. So long as it’s still giving some enjoyment to other folk.

But you should know when to call it quits. I’m not talkin’ the exact day or the minute. The way I see it, it probably looks somethin’ like this: some innocent throwaway comment – sweetie wrapped ’round a poisonous dart. The look on someone’s face. A wee nervous smile and shyin’ of the eyes. Read more