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We’ve all had those nights where drunken sex with a witch in a blood pentagram under a full moon on the roof of your favourite Johannesburg nightclub summons a hard-drinking demon who changes the fate of the human race forever. Right? No? Just me, then? ⛥♠⛥ Follow this page for decadent twisted tales of mystery, … Continue reading ⛥♠⛥Welcome⛥♠⛥

♠ Cocaine blues ♠

“I saw your psycho bird earlier. He wanted to teach me how to fly. Away from all of this. But I wouldn’t listen.” Noddy turned back into the room. Morag was cutting white powder on a tiny mirror. “I thought you’d quit?” It was a long moment before she looked up at him, a sad smile on her face. Her voice came from a long way away, as if she was forcing herself back to the here and now to respond. Out of loyalty. Friendship. Perhaps something more. “Let’s just say I’m having a bad day. Okay?”

♠ I shot the sheriff ♠

“Are you ready?” Noddy took the gun from his pocket. “I dunno. Is this the safety? Is that on or off?” Morag looked. “That’s definitely the safety.” She flicked it. “There. Now I think it’s off.” “What are you doing? Somebody could get hurt.” She realized they were crouched and whispering, stood up straight. “It’s a gun. That’s what it’s for.” She got the keys ready in her hand. “If we run into trouble, don’t be afraid to use it.” “Wait. What trouble? You said…”

♠ Holiday in Cambodia ♠

Morag dropped to her knees in front of him, hiding the pain this time. “Look. We need money to get away. Now. Today. All of us. Me. You. Janine. The baby. Mick will never know it was us. The place is empty. Trust me. I’ve been watching it.” She held up her hands, pleading. “I’ve never seen him like this. He’s going to kill us anyway. To make a statement. That’s how he thinks. It’s what he does. If we don’t leave right now, before the end of the day we’ll be dancing in Valhalla. And I’m not talking about the fucking nightclub.”

♠ Motörhead ♠

Morag stood up, wincing as she brushed her skirt back into place. She turned to face him, and he saw the darkening bruise under one eye. “Are you okay?” Noddy was on his feet, grabbing her shoulders. She jerked away from him, face twisting. A tiny drop of blood ran from one side of her nose. “Peachy.” “What happened?” She reached inside her jacket and shook a cigarette from the battered box. She lit it carefully, hands still shaking, head twisting in frustration. After a long drag, held forever and released as a mournful sigh - “Mick’s out.”

♠ Avenues & alleyways ♠

Morag kept her knife in the inside pocket of her leather jacket. She knew that Mick knew that. There was no way she could reach it before he reached her. Unless she ran. Was he armed under that ridiculous white gown?

♠ Back at the funny farm ♠

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Morag kept her knife in the inside pocket of her leather jacket. She knew that Mick knew that. There was no way she could reach it before he reached her. Unless she ran. Was he armed under that ridiculous white gown?

♠ I don’t need no doctor ♠

He put an arm around her shoulder and led her slowly towards the end of the corridor. “We can’t go in there with a plan. You know what he’s like. He hates other people having plans, make out? Agendas. If he thinks we’ve been conspiring against him, I scheme it’ll blow up in our faces. So just say what comes naturally, know what I mean?” “Strangely, I do.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks, boss man. Ok, let’s do this.”

♠ Birthday card ♠

Morag used the cushioned heel of her black Doc Martens to crush the dying embers of the cancer-stick. She couldn’t believe she had started again. Nearly a year without so much as a drunken drag of someone else’s. Now she had a pack of nineteen Pall Mall Red in her pocket. All the old excuses ran through her head. They would calm her nerves. Help her think. Make her look grown-up and sophisticated. She snorted, kicking the stompie towards the plastic dustbins that were her only companions in this alley running between two blocks of flats. How’s that for sophisticated? Still, it’s not as if she had to worry about decreasing her life span. Not now. So why not light the odd cigarette?

♠ Wicked love ♠

Dirk shook his head. “No. Well, maybe that’s part of it. But it was there before he came off the bike, make out?” His expression darkened, brows lowering as he struggled to find the right words to express himself. “It’s like he’s not there anymore. Not in control. Like someone took a wild animal and caged it inside his skull. I can see it there behind his eyes, pacing back and forth. It’s hurt. Scared and confused. Ready to lash out at anyone who gets too close to it.”

♠ Behind blue eyes ♠

Noddy turned to look deep into Janine’s icy blue eyes. “Girlfriend…” The second slap was more effective, nearly knocking him off his barstool. “How could you? What were you thinking?” They were both too stunned to answer. “You’re lucky Dirk didn’t call the police. You’re lucky you weren’t shot. How could you?” Noddy slid off the barstool, partly to move closer to Janine but mainly to brace himself in case she wasn’t finished yet. “We’re okay, Girlfriend. It’s alright. But how are you doing? Are you sick?” Janine gave him the look she reserved for TV evangelists caught in flagrante delicto.