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NULL IMMORTALIS

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Iritis

Saturday, 6 February 2010 8:30 P GMT+01
  Iritis is a rare, mysterious and potentially serious eye condition. I’ve suffered from iritis intermittently since 1973 – in either eye, but mainly the left. Thanks goodness, so far, never in both eyes at once! I have had it i

Butterflies in the Wind

Friday, 5 February 2010 9:48 A GMT+01
Following yesterday's article on Gunfleet Sands Wind Farm:Findings have just been announced today that moths and butterflies surf the wind; http://news.discovery.com/animals/migrating-insects-butterflies.html They instinctively or deliberately di

Gunfleet Sands Wind Farm

Thursday, 4 February 2010 7:24 P GMT+01
 Where I live.This was the then mysterious beginning of the process (November 2008):  And here today is the end result:

Dawn's Game

Wednesday, 3 February 2010 6:11 P GMT+01
In the old days, each day was indeed so old it could not recall anything with its failing memory. The people who lived during those old days – like me – tried to help each day as it dawned by calling up for it our own memories that we bel

Deal or No Deal

Tuesday, 2 February 2010 6:01 P GMT+01
  The Ligottian Banker on 'Deal or No Deal' certainly had a field day today. He even had his own rat army in the sewers. Noel Edmunds said he had tempered what the Banker said. So who knows to what creative depths of Horror the

Performer's Nerves

posted Sunday, 23 December 2007

 

Solomon was a trapezist by training, a high-wire act by aptitude, an acrobat by synaptic antic, a serious contender for testing the devil-may-care gap between life and death…

He travelled from circus to circus, improving his daredevil skills amid the airy heights of each big-top, glancing downward at the various failsafe, foolproof methods for inopportune falling … with giant safety-nets and unwholesomely over-nourished spiders lurking in these nets.

Solomon never needed such fall-backs because he was so unfoolhardily surefooted on the tightrope, so strong-gripped on the thin swing. Except, one day – his partner was a new one – the air-artiste who was due to grab Solomon’s wrist’s (or was it vice versa?) as he left one swing for another.

 

The handhold of these swings is called an aglet … or that was what Solomon once heard them called, except he was half deaf half the time and often misheard the calls of fellow swingers in the dizzying upper depths … and Solomon’s fingers sweated as he hung and swung back and forth in the spotlit criss-crosses of the tented heavens – nearer and nearer to the other’s swinging half-blinded shape or shadow.

 

Then Solomon saw what he thought was the other aglet snap – and then his partner of the canvas skies slipped slowly toward the engulfing net below, only to be swallowed whole by a spider before falling finally (as the spider) through a gaping hole in the net towards the inadequate sawdust in the circus ring below.

 

Already, however, before the slightest blink, Solomon was skimming the thermals, gliding painfully near-motionlessly, if not emotionlessly, towards the same snapped aglet…

His nerves stretched to the untutored tautness of a high wire, until the big-top’s supports were dislodged by mass hysteria and pulled apart till his nerves tugged upon a breaking-point … and he self-possessedly performed a somersault, followed in close order by a nip & tuck, like a high-diver as he, too, careered towards the swirling ring … beyond the reach of the cheep-cheeping safety-net spider – but just before Solomon hit the swaying sloping sawdust surface, he glanced upwards a last minute look and, with relief, saw that his own ganglia of stringy nerves had thankfully broken his fall.

 

 (unpublished)