The World Of Cinders

I haven’t been writing much the past few months. That’s pretty much evident from the few posts on here in that time, but I also mean writing in general. My books have fallen by the wayside, and not through lack of trying either.

I live in a block of flats that is part of a community of several different blocks. Not everyone gets on but it wouldn’t be that pesky real life if they did. However, the past few months have been a nightmare for pretty much everyone around these parts. And it’s all thanks to the machinations of one twenty two year old girl. This girl has been horrible ever since she moved in, starting fights and screaming matches in the car park, getting drunk and walking out into the street in her underwear (usually to demand sex from the poor drivers of the cars that go along our street), having all sorts of sad old men over to fund her drink and drugs with the blatant promise of sex for what they buy her. And around three months ago there were finally enough complaints from all the neighbours to get her kicked out. Which is when the trouble really began.

You see, the process for eviction is long and complicated in this country. So many rights have been afforded the tenant that it takes a lot of time, money, and effort for a landlord to evict someone. And that means that this girl, knowing she had nothing to lose but months to stay in her flat, decided to really take it out on the other tenants. For three straight months she has been blasting the radio (not even a CD, but fucking Radio 1) morning, noon, and night. She’s been screaming racial abuse out of the window at the students who pass by. She’s had her friends and customers (the aforementioned old men) riding the car park barriers while off their heads on drugs, until they broke. It’s been ridiculous to see someone that age acting in that manner, and it’s been embarrassing to be associated with by those passing our home. But, mostly, it’s been loud.

Every time in the past few months that I’ve sat down to do some writing or editing, she’s been kicking off one way or another. Even closing all the windows and going to the other side of the flat (bearing in mind that the flats are arranged so that she is already the opposite side of the car park to me) I could still hear her radio turned up to such a volume that it was louder than my television. And there are those who would simply answer “Turn the TV up then.” but that only makes me as much a part of the problem for someone else who is likely already suffering thanks to her.

I haven’t been able to concentrate. The few edits I’ve managed have been done in fits and starts, mainly when the girl’s boyfriend has had an argument with her and taken his music system back. And yet the fake pregnancy she continued to boast about kept bringing him and his bloody speakers back!!!


Hmmm, it seems I needed to vent a little. At the end of October, two days before Halloween, this girl was finally removed from the flats for good. She’s gone and it has been so quiet since then. In the few days between now and then, I’ve managed to get more editing done than in the months leading up to her eviction. Even before she started kicking off she was distracting me from writing, so I’ll be going over my second draft and double checking everything before I sign off on it. Looks like this one will be getting a third draft before it sits besideĀ it’s predecessor. Still, with a little luck things will stay quiet and this edit should take only a month or so to quickly go through.

As you may have noticed, I’ve taken down my previous World of Cinders page and have amalgamated it with this one. As I was writing less, both pages stayed empty more than they normally would have done, and it helped highlight how little sense it made to spread myself over two different sites.

So, that’s me. I’m back, I’m together, and I can fucking hear again. How are you?

21st October 2015

The wife (who is totally just my current girlfriend with wrinkly make-up on) and I went on a little date today. Nothing massive, we just slipped into our multicoloured leotards and self drying jackets, pulled our self-lacing sneakers (thank you for finally getting onto that one, Nike) onto our feet, and went on a bit of a walk before having a Pepsi at the diner, then going on to see a movie.

The shark still looks fake.

We passed a couple of kids on their hoverboards as we walked the streets. They weren’t old enough to know the significance of the day. Too young to see how much of their everyday reality was predicted by a film that came out thirty long years ago. Tablet computers, fingerprint ID, flat screen televisions with multichannel viewing, compost fuels, video conferencing, wireless video games, holograms, and even frigging drones (plus a wonderful little rifle that interferes with their signals and effectively shoots them down).

Oh yeah, and we can’t forget the flying cars. Almost got clipped by one as we left the cinema. Some fancy futuristic looking thing, with gull wing doors. There’s always someone trying to look cooler and failing badly eh? This guy even had some weird tech in place that left flame trails behind his tyres. That can’t be safe. Bloody maniac.

It’s such a weird day. I look around today, the very day that the characters in such an iconic film arrived in their guesswork future, and I see so much of what they predicted has already come true. And the few things we haven’t got to yet? Well, I know an excellent film that’s well worth watching if you want that view of the future.