#16 Night Sky

The mysteries of the heart are like the deeps of space, untold and fathomless. Love explodes like the birth pangs of a star, or blinks out in a moment, leaving only the void. Yet most just decay slowly, until, like the light from a distant sun, we glimpse only a remnant from a thousand years ago.

#15 Long Service Award

Face wizened, seamed, like rivulets cutting their way through a cragged mountain pass, your dark button eyes regard a world of shopping centres, sales and Starbucks.

Khaki has given way to Surawal, parade ground to waste ground, Kukri has been long sheathed.

You are present but almost forgotten, your reward for a life-time’s devotion, a broken bench by the Thames in the sunshine.

#14 Empire of the six gardens

I rule the empire of the six gardens, three roofs and two sheds and all therein unto the boundary of the great wall. Five wives are my harem, twelve fat neuters my courtier-slaves and here my dominion is absolute, unquestioned and unchallenged.

The providers, in their great wisdom, left me intactus to rule this domain and here I fear no-one, not great ginger Achilles, nor killer ear-torn Buttonchops – I fought and conquered them both and even the great hell hound Megan was sent whimpering from the garden where the pleasure plant grows.

Now, I bask in the glow of the warming orb, allowing a provider to ear-worship me, one-eyed, battle-scarred, my head a bumpy patchwork of ancient rents and overgrown wounds. Battles have been fought, will be won again, until claws and teeth and cunning fail…

Topsy is my name.

#13 Retirement Plan

When I get older, I’ve decided I’m to go to go a little mad, not quite stark staring bonkers or anything but peculiar, eccentric and strange. I’ll develop weird obsessions and phobias, hoard bin bags or dig tunnels in the cellar. I’ll mutter in high streets and exude a malodorous smell.

I’ll buy a walking stick with a metal end and shake it at life. Kids will run from my shadow and I’ll always say the wrong thing in shops – loudly – and be blunt to the point of rudeness and perhaps cultivate a line in casual racist remarks .

I’ll force young mothers to give up seats on buses and make damn sure I get the sympathy vote. I’ll milk state benefits and cause doctors to shake their heads, as I stay just on the right side of certifiable.

I think it’s the only thing that will keep me sane.

#12 Beyond the cheese course

“Hello, nice meet you, we didn't get a chance to speak during dinner, I’m Letitia.”
“Brian.”
“You seem like a strong, handsome, charming kind of fellow Brian, tell me …do you swing?”
“Aye lass, but it usually takes a new ball and’t right overhead conditions.”
"I see …well not beyond the bounds of possibility.”

#11 Intruder!

“Hello, which emergency service do you require?”
“Oh, the police please, dear.”
“What's the nature of the emergency?”
“Well dear, I can hear strange noises coming from downstairs, I think we may have burglars.”
“Okay, okay, stay calm and stay on the line, I'm dispatching a patrol unit right away, they'll be with you in two minutes. Now don't worry, they'll see you safe.”
“Oh no, no, it's not me I'm worried about dear, it's the burglars. You see it's a waxing gibbous moon tonight and Eugene has slipped his chain ...again. You'd best tell them to hurry.”

# 10 A New Bank Holiday

“Hi I'm Dave Bland and you're listening to BBC Radio Twelve. A quick reminder (as if you needed it) that today is National Fornication day, the one day of the year you can enjoy no questions asked, guilt-free sex with multiple strangers, with no comebacks, consequences or repercussions, safe in the knowledge your husband, wife, partner or significant other will be doing exactly the same.

NFD has been a roaring success since it was instituted over a decade ago to combat the tiresome problems of of unrequited lust, infidelity, marital boredom and relationship strife.

Remember it's not only a pleasure, it's practically your social duty, so get out there Britain and give 'em one for me!

Coming up, Suzie will be here with the weather ...after she's finished noshing me off. Over to you Suz.”

#9 Scrap Heap Challenge

Glancing up, he could see the gleaming city in the distance. His head went down again as he sifted through the refuse pile and to Azrael's delight, he uncovered the tangled strands of a length of copper wire. A happy find, two or three days good eating at least. He tore and clawed at the surrounding detritus and his lean, sunburned body twisted with the effort. Then the heap finally gave up its treasure and he laughed and danced, holding up his trophy to the the city. It was dying, lights growing dimmer as its power petered out. One day, maybe one day soon, the lights would go out forever and they too, the ones who lived there, would have to crawl through oceans of their own waste to survive. Azrael smiled, he would show them the way.

#8 Remote Control

Your day’s work is over and you drive home through the drowsy warmth of a suburban evening, at peace. When people ask what you do, your lies are well polished, the practiced deceptions of a surrogate warrior.
You’re simultaneously on the front line and three thousand miles away, an invisible predator hanging over the battlefield like a charnel raven. As you seek out new targets, your practised hands flicker over the controls effortlessly, man and machine in harmonious alignment. Sometimes you wonder if those heat signatures, those IR outlines, had lives before you reduced them to ashes. But then the training takes over and you see only threats, tangos, bogies. It doesn’t keep you awake at nights. Not very often.

# 7 Insurance

It is a generally considered a wise precaution when undertaking any new job to open a private file detailing exactly where the business is burying the bodies required to succeed in the modern cut throat world of commerce. Less wise is to store that file somewhere it can - even accidently - be found, especially if your employer is actually in the business of burying bodies.