Jarl's profile

The carriage was a rotten tooth in a gum of rotten teeth, the interior space a trite grubby cream wash, plastic panels flattened and fixed with charmless rivets, rusting in their slots. The ‘No Smoking’ sign, the penalty notice, the route map and advertisements were all peeling, all faded, all decaying. The flat, listless windows revealed only the dull repartitions of the outside world, reflecting the yellowed interior lighting back upon itself. Neville made his way through row after row of t...

Man-Tiger Lorraine was staring at him with eyes that seemed to bulge from her sockets. There was a false enthusiasm stretched across her face that spat of personal desperation. “Neville?” It took him all of three seconds to realise she’d addressed him. All he could see were the lines of her face, sparrow claws at the corners of her eyes and dry wiry creases stabbing across her brow. The lines all lead him to her pupils – black dots of infinite anxiety - and they had momentarily hypnotised him...

Gary, relegated to a pull down seat, squirmed uncomfortably. The girls sat either side of Levi at the back. In the weight of his leather jacket he seemed to melt into the darkened cab. If he was squashed between the two he didn't let on. The girls quizzed him constantly, ignoring Gary totally. He looked at them, fawning at either side of Levi, and felt contempt. They were so obvious, excessively flattering. Levi looked every bit the star lounging there, adorned on either side by the beautiful...

Love Me Tender Where was she? Gary sighed to himself, tapping his foot impatiently, and with a nervous repetition, on the pale white of the paving stones. Idly he observed the enormous queue. The snake of people, wavering in a drunkard’s effort of a line, stretched out from the cinema's double doors and threatened to twist around the corner and out of Leicester Square altogether. Although part of the mêlée himself Gary failed to understand the attraction. This was not his film of choice or lo...

3 Frank was on his knees, hands crushed into the charcoal coated soil, his head bowed lowly, eyes bolted shut. Naked and sweating from the ordeal of rebirth he remained prostrate, satisfied to simply recuperate solemnly. The environment, insisting that his orbs inspect, did nothing to hasten his recovery. Indeed, his remaining faculties gave him no peace, stimulated by the nature of this new world. The very taste and smell of it assailed him, defiling his lungs, prickling his skin and blister...