The Broken Pocket Watch – Chapter Twenty

I get up, and the world is still. It’s dark outside. The moon greets me as I stare out of the window. The whole house is quiet. Dad is probably asleep as well. I must have slept for hours. Maybe everything will be alright now. Standing up, I fling the quilt around. Hoping not to find a bishop flying across the room, or hidden somewhere in the bed. Nothing.

The world is normal again. I curl back up on the bed and grab my book. I fly through the pages. The story of pirates and new islands, loves lost, battles won. I forget about my world. I forget about chess. Everything is about this book.

I finish a chapter and flick the page over. Pausing for a second. The house is too quiet. There is no noise at all. Not even the ticking. I’m so used to blocking it out, that I don’t notice. I place the book, slowly, on my bed. Pausing before I move. Hoping deep down that the ticking continues and that I just completely tuned it out of my brain. That would solve pretty much everything in my life.

The ticking doesn’t return. I kick my legs of the bed, with great reluctance. My feet reach for the floor, the wood creaking as I take the first step. The wood is cool and refreshing to my bare feet. With each creak, the door gets closer. There’s not one bit of me that wants to reach the door, to admit that this whole thing is real. That the ticking has stopped, and I have to find out why.

My hand reaches out and opens the door. The ticking isn’t there. I would hear it here. I know I would. There is no need to go further, and yet I do. Going down each step one at a time. Maybe Dad has stopped all the clocks. Maybe he’s admitted that it’s annoyed him as much as it does me and stopped them all. Maybe tomorrow we will move to the City with my uncle and live there forever and forget that we left the pocket watch here and never think of it again and then maybe if we do we won’t come back for it and we will be happy and never have to think about the ticking or chess because we don’t like chess not really and maybe the world will be a better place and we can help and maybe I’ll never reach the bottom of these stairs and this will never be a problem and I’ll wake up in bed and nothing will be different at all.

I reach the bottom and take a deep breath, knowing what’s on the other side of the door. Slowly my hand opens the door. Inside the clocks have not only stopped ticking, they’ve also all been broken. Each face has been smashed, the arms snapped, some ripped off the wall completely. Were we robbed? No. No one would do this to us. Would they. Did they blame us for Tobi’s death. Why would people do this. The windows are smashed as well, the glass scattered around on the floor creating a maze of safety. I can’t believe it. Someone did this to us. How can we be blamed for that. I don’t understand.

“Dad,” I shout. “You need to see this. Dad. Come down now.”

He doesn’t hear me, and I don’t want to shout louder. Leaving the door open I take two steps at a time and throw myself at Dad’s door. He shoots up in bed.

“Nymia, what’s going on.”

“Dad, we’ve been robbed. Someone has destroyed the shop.”

“What?” he says, while sweeping the quilt off him and standing up in the same movement.

He doesn’t say another word, and I don’t need to. He takes lead and I follow him down the stairs. He reaches to open the door at the bottom and swings it open. The ticking greets us, and inside the shop looks the same as it always does.

“This all looks normal,” Dad says. “Maybe you were just having a bad dream. Come on, lets go back to bed.”

I let him pass me on the stairs and continue staring at the shop. Everything looks the same, nothing is different at all. I walk out, and lean on the counter. Everything is perfect, as it always is. Nothing has changed at all.

What is happening to me?

Nothing in the shop has changed. I inspect every corner, hoping to find something that’s different. Something that has changed. Just something to prove I’m not going insane. But I’m not going to suddenly find the shop in tatters. The windows can’t just fix themselves.

In the middle of the small, cluttered shop floor, I find it. The bishop. I pick it up and rub my fingers over it, rotating it in my palm. It feels so real, but I know it can’t be.

“Aren’t you going to go to bed?” Dad asks.

I didn’t even realise he was standing in the doorway. I look over at him, still rotating the piece.

“Soon. Do we have a chess set?”

“A chess set? Why would you want to know that at this time? No we don’t.”

“Did we have one?”

“Your Mum did. But I got rid of it. I donated it to the school actually.”

“I’ve never seen it there.”

“Sounds about right, but come on now. Get to bed. It’s late and you need sleep.”

I think about showing him the piece. But I don’t want confirmation that I’m going completely insane. That the world around me is falling apart.

“Okay,” I say.

I follow him up the stairs and go to my room. Collapsing on the bed, I create a fist around the bishop. Even though I need to figure out if I’m insane, I fall asleep. I feel my body slump into dreamland. I couldn’t move if I wanted too.

When I wake, the first thing I do is check my hand. It’s still there. The bishop. Maybe I’m not insane, maybe someone dropped it earlier, maybe that’s why I’m focusing on it so much. I picked it up and can’t get it out of my drowsy head that I have little control of. That isn’t much solace though.

I stand up and stretch, keeping hold of the bishop at all times.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you were in here.”

I turn to find my Mum walking into the room.

“What are you doing here?” she asks. “Were you asleep?”

“I think I fell asleep yeah, it’s been a long couple of days.”

I don’t want to worry her, even if I’m not convinced this is real.

I blink and she’s gone. The bishops gone, and I don’t know what to do. I want to hope that everything is back to normal, but I know that isn’t going to happen.

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My Top Five Games of 2017

As the end of the year approaches I’m looking back at what I’ve experienced this year. How my life’s changed. I live in my own house now, which I still don’t really believe. I’ve been writing more and more. Seen some great concerts. Lived through more superhero movies than I wanted to. My job is the same, but still all in all it’s been a good year.

As December rattles on towards its end, I wanted to write some posts summing up my year. Starting with my top five favourite games of 2017.

 

5 – The Evil Within 2

This was a big shock. I enjoyed the first game. It felt like a nice nod towards Resident Evil 4, and I liked it. I wouldn’t say it was spectacular but worth a look at. I wasn’t expecting a sequel. But here we are, and it blew me away. An open world horror game is pure genius. I absolutely loved it. This beats the first game by a mile and a half and I can’t recommend it enough. The first hour feels like more of the first game, which I was expecting and wouldn’t have complained about. Then the game opens up. Side quests, collectables. Hidden stories. So much to find.

There is an optional bit in the game where you can read a diary in a woman’s house. She writes that she is being haunted by something, and once you read it you also become haunted. You don’t have to read it. But for the rest of the game you are haunted by a ghost who will lock you in rooms, transport you into another realm and make your life hell. It’s completely optional. I only read the diary because I like getting all collectables, but this one has consequences. Stuff like this feels original, and changes the way I approached any other collectable in the game.

 

4 – Super Mario Odyssey

Way back in January when Nintendo went and officially announced Super Mario Odyssey at their Nintendo Switch reveal event, I knew I was going to love it. I love all the Mario games (Apart from the soulless Mario Bros Wii U). It feels like Mario 64 and Sunshine with a side of Galaxy. A love letter to every game that came before while also adding more than enough new things to make it stand by itself. A seriously good game, that I wish was higher on this list. One of the funnest games I’ve played in a long long time. I’m at about 600 moons, and counting. I’m going to get them all.

The only reason it isn’t higher in the list, is the mini-games. Jump-rope, volley ball and all of those races. They are so insanely difficult to get the second moons on. Not so much the races, which I just hate in general. They are doable. The nightmare begins with jump-rope. jumping 100 times seems easy enough, until you add a jump-rope. They aren’t essential, which is good. But a stupid annoying anger-inducing waste of time on the way to 100%

 

3 – The Legend of Zelda – Breath of the Wild

What a masterpiece this game is. I completely understand why it’s been voted Game of the Year. A launch title for the almighty Nintendo Switch, and what a way to start a system’s life. A game that had so much hype, I honestly know 2 people who took time off work to play it.

You don’t get more open world that this. After a mini tutorial-ish beginning which teaches you how the open world works, you are set free and everything is possible. There isn’t much I can say about this that hasn’t been said before.

The only reason this isn’t higher, for me, is because once I beat the main game (40 hours), I didn’t feel the need to continue. My girlfriend however, has over 220 hours on her file.

2 – Resident Evil 7

This is the game I was looking forward to most this year. When it was announced at E3 last year, I went into hype mode. I was a little concerned that it was a PT clone, but when I finally got to play the game I was reassured. A seriously good horror game, that is actually scary for the most part. The ending gets a little weak, but those opening 3/4 hours are spectacular. Finally a return to form for the long and disapointing series.

I actually did a full review of this game when it first came out, you can find that HERE 

 

1 – Nier Automata

I don’t even know how to describe how much I love this game. I bought it on a whim and now it’s in my top 3 of all time. I’d seen a few trailers and thought it would be an enjoyable hack n slash game. When the first level is a shoot em up, I knew this was going to be something different. The music, the game play, the plot, tone, characters. Everything perfect.

Once I’d finished the game, I wanted more. I read online, that the game continues after the credits, and that’s why this game takes the top place. I was happy with what I played. It was a decent length and enjoyable. Then in continues and everything I thought I’d know about the plot changed. I don’t want to spoil anything but the twists that come along took me by surprise and really hooked me. By the time I got to the actual ending of the game, I’d experienced something that felt important. Anybody who doesn’t think games can be considered art, will change their minds after playing this.

 

Biggest disappointment of 2017

Kingdom Hearts 2.8

I already knew 3D: Dream Drop Distance was a bad game, and had no plans to re-buy any remaster. But throwing it together with a 0.2 A Fragmentary Passage as a prologue of such to KH3 made me buy it. 0.2 was a waste of an hour. Nothing of substance and ultimately pointless and I felt ripped off. I started 3D again, maybe it’s not as bad as I remember. No it’s worse. I only remembered being annoyed with the stupid switching characters mechanic. I didn’t remember the equally annoying pet simulator they threw in there as well. At this point I’m not sure whether to be excited for KH3 or not.

Thanks for reading,

Ashley

Games I feel like I’ve missed.

Cuphead
Persona 5 – I’ve started it, just haven’t played it enough to count as played it.
Splatoon 2
Yakuza Kiwami
YS VIII

 

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The Broken Pocket Watch – Chapter Nineteen

I take my first steps back home, hands in pockets clutching the watch. Squeezing it so tightly that my palms hurt. Why did Dad give me this. He didn’t want me to use it. He told me not to. I did anyway. Why didn’t he just keep it. I would never have known. Who would have told me. It couldn’t be just so I’d see Mum again. It’s too risky. Look at what I’ve messed up now. Tobi’s dad is going to die. And I helped cause it. Maybe that’s what actually happened. I don’t remember that smiley face in my room not being there. Maybe there wasn’t a change at all, and it’d always been there. What’s happened has happened no matter who goes back and changes whatever. I wanted it to be proof, so I believed it. Maybe Salime would have sobered up in that bin, and then gone back to the village. That would have made sense. Instead, I awoke him and he’s going to die.

Before I realise it, I’m back at the outskirts of the City, that pristine wall standing ahead of me, casting its shadow down on me. The darkness is welcoming. I can’t even remember what day I’m on. I skipped around so much. I think it’s Saturday. I should be fine getting through the gate, and then go back to my Saturday. No I’m on Friday. That has to be the day. I feel sick. I hate this feeling. Everything is wrong.

I don’t remember walking through the gate, but here I am outside my house. What day is it? I wish I could remember where I was jumping to and from. If I just think back to waking up. It feels like months ago now. How long has it been? Four hours? That’s nothing. It feels so much longer. Why have I done this. It isn’t natural. I feel so sick. I’m going to throw up.

I close my eyes and steady myself. I’m not going to be sick until I know I’m in my own time. A phrase everyone has to tell themselves from time to time. It’s just part of growing up. Focus. It’s not the time. I pull the watch out and think about waking up. That glowing hopeful feeling hadn’t been squashed yet. That should be enough, I’m sure of it. I open my eyes and everything looks the same. The empty village street is no different, but that means literally nothing. I have never seen it look any different.

I fall on the front door as I walk in, the ticking spins around me. I hate it so much. Dad’s behind the counter, tinkering away. He looks up at me and our eyes lock. He knows what’s happened and comes around to steady me.

“Are you okay? You’ve been going back too much. Leave it for a few weeks. Your mum will still be there. She doesn’t need to see you like this.”

“I’m fine,” I say while trying to push him back.

I’m not angry with him, it’s more aimed at me. He’s so optimistic about where I’ve been. I can’t tell him though. I hate myself enough, without adding his hate on top. Especially with the unknown damage I’ve done to Salime.

“Hey, what’s up? Sit down. I know something’s wrong. Come and sit down here. Lean on me. There, now tell me. What’s going on. Don’t just sit there. Please. I thought you knew what would happen if you go back to much so quickly. You’ve been getting better at balancing it, what’s happened?”

“Nothing. I swear. I’m just tired. Let me get some sleep. I’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Morning? It’s barely the afternoon. What’s happened?”

“I just went back and forth too much. Like you said, I need to get better at it. I’ll get used to it eventually. Let me get some sleep.”

“Fine, but give me the watch. I thought you were ready, but you’re not.”

“No, I’ll stop using it. I promise. I don’t want to feel like this again.”

“Give it here, it’s not like I’m trying to hurt you. I’ll give it back when you’re feeling better.”

“You won’t. Leave it with me. I know what I’m doing. I’m not a child anymore. I’m more than that. You would know that if you looked away from your clocks for five minutes.”

“Don’t speak to me like that, you know that’s not true. I’ve done everything for you. I provide for you. I didn’t want to give you that watch, but I knew you needed your mother. I wanted to throw it away. It’s a curse. But that’s our family. Cursed by time. Never enough of it, is there. Don’t get angry with me because I wanted you to see your Mother.”

“Just to get rid of me, have her do your job.”

“What is your problem all of a sudden.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t actually feel like that’s good enough. Why are you talking to me like that? It’s not like you.”

“I’m just feeling like crap. I shouldn’t have gone back so many times. I want to go to sleep.”

“Give me the watch, that’s not a question.”

“Here.”

“Now, go and get some sleep. I need to talk to you in the morning. You’re not getting away with this that easily. You don’t get to speak to me like that, whatever your reason. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

I don’t remember what happens next. Nothing maybe. Maybe the world really does dissolve around me, like it just did. Or maybe it won’t. I’m not sure. I saw it happen though. Dad lead me to the door and it crumbled away in my hand. My dad starts to speak and his words echoed through my body. Asked if I’m okay. I try to respond, but something stopped me. He walks towards me, I remember that much. I’m aware of that. He puts one arm around me and held me up. The world fades.

I’m falling, into nothing. I’m not sure if I’m even falling. Fleeting images spin around me in this vortex. I feel sick if I keep my eyes open, but I can’t shut them. My stomach seems to be moving, readying itself for something. Lurching around inside me, I try to curl up. My hands cover my stomach. I cry out in pain. No one hears me. The world spins. I clench my eyes. I gag. And then I nothing. I’m asleep I think. But I can’t be. I’m not normally this aware in dreams. Calmness floods me.

My room is dark. The moonlight seeps in, and creeps over me as my eyes slowly open. I have no control, but at least I know I’m here. I’m not dreaming. The heavy feeling is telling me so. I feel the weight of my entire body, my eye lids, my arms. I don’t want to move, which is a good thing since I can’t. The ceiling looks the same as always and the faint ticking of clocks is welcoming. The world around me is real. I wish I could jump up and celebrate but I just can’t be bothered. As bad as that sounds.

Laughter takes over. I was beginning to think I was never going to regain control. I can’t remember feeling like me for such a long time. I turn on the bed and laugh more. I’m crying. It feels so good. The quilt is so real, the sheets feel so good. I can’t believe I’m real again.

It’s been a weird couple of days. I’m not even sure what day it is. I’m assuming Sunday, but who knows. I’ve probably missed a month and don’t remember any of it. I don’t care, it feels so good to be in control again. Those nightmares have stopped.

The silver glare of the moon shows me my bare room. The dim light makes me squint, taking everything, just to make sure it’s all real. Slowly, I bring my body to sit up. It takes forever. I can’t believe how tired my body is, yet I’m so awake. Mind rushing around me, spinning. I take one heavy foot and thump it on the ground. The rest of my body follows. The floorboards creak heavily with every step. My hand lurches onto the door handle and swings the door open. I fall down the stairs, one step at a time. The ticking getting slowly louder. Dad better be in the kitchen, I can’t open that door right now. I know he’s going to want to see me. Maybe a week a has passed and he’s done being angry. I’m not that lucky though.

I throw the kitchen door open and walk in. Dad is sitting at the table, drinking some of his home-made coffee. Hot water, essentially. He looks up from his newspaper and looks at me. It’s the village newspaper, published once a month by volunteers. It’s given for free, and supported pretty much solely by my Dad.

“Good morning, sit down.”

I swallow nothing and sit down. My whole body shaking. I fidget around with the ends of my sleeves while trying not to look away from my Dad’s eyes. That always makes things worse.

“I know we have things to talk about,” he starts. “But other things have happened. I need to tell you something. Salime. He killed Tobi and his wife.”

“What?”

“Apparently ever since he’s been back from the City he has been violent towards them. He had that drunken weekend last week. He snapped last night and killed them.”

“No. No.”

“I’m sorry, I needed to tell you.”

“No, this is my fault.”

I can’t stop the tears, and look down at my lap. My hands won’t stop shaking. Please, stop.

“What’s happened? Nymia? What are you talking about.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I should have listened.”

“What did you do?”

“I went back and tried to change things. It made things worse. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I changed anything, but I killed them.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I killed them.”

“What did you do? What did you change?”

“I went back. Because. Something was going to happen. Wasn’t it? Something was going to happen. What was it?”

“You don’t remember? Are you sure you didn’t dream it?”

“I did it. I swear. I went back and changed something. I just don’t remember why. I know I did it though. I remember doing it. I think. Why did I do it?”

The tears dried up, and I regained control. I almost start laughing. Maybe I had dreamt it. It had been a long couple of days. Or maybe more.

“Start from the beginning. Nymia. Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t remember. I went back. To the city and I saw Mum, she figured out who I was. Told me about the time you went to see that band, I can’t remember their name.”

“The Ferrets. They were big in the City. She got into them at University. We don’t have records in the village. You would love them.”

“I remember that, and then I came home. I don’t remember much else.”

“Come here,” he said, while standing up and walking around the table. “I’m sure you didn’t do anything. You would listen to me. It’s just a bad dream. People don’t get murdered around here, it’s just a shock.”

“Maybe,” I whisper, quietly enough so Dad can’t hear me.

He lets me go, and I sit there still. He can’t stop moving though, as if he took the panic from me.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Really? You’re not okay if you’re not eating. That’s you all over. Let me go out and grab us some cheese toasties from the cafe. I’ll show them how to make them.”

“Sure, thanks.”

Dad leaves, his coffee half-finished. Did I really change anything? I remember being in the alley. That was real. I’m sure of it. But what did I change? I can’t remember why I was there. It’s faded from memory. I can’t believe it. And Tobi. He was such a sweet one. I can’t believe he’s gone. I hope Salime gets the same. I don’t know what the punishment for murder is in the village. In the city it’s death. I’ve heard about that from time to time, but it never happens out here. He’s not okay, he’s never going to be okay again, I can’t believe it. Tobi is gone. He’s never coming back. I never even spoke to him, that much. He’s gone though. Never coming back.

I changed it I’m sure. Something changed, whether I remember it or not. I have to believe it. Something changed. I know that much. I caused their death, in a way. I’m not sad though, the alternative must have been worse. But that means I can change things.

I leave the kitchen and go back to my room. The smiling face is sitting their etched into the wall. I run my fingers along the groove, as I have done since I was a child. This is something I did. I changed it and gave myself the memories of changing something. I know that much. I wasn’t sure before, but I know now. I know I changed something with Salime, even if I don’t remember what. Memory is so hazy.

I sit on the bed and sigh. I wish I knew what was going on. Everything is so fuzzy and hazy. I can’t keep track of what’s going on. It’s infuriating. I should have just listened to Dad and not changed a thing. It would have made everything so much simpler.

Mum walks into the room. She sits next to me. Puts her arm around me.

“How you doing sweetie? I heard about Tobi. It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t know. I did something.”

“Maybe. But you didn’t kill him. You didn’t stab him. Did you?”
“I don’t know how he died.”

She disappears. I don’t feel anything. Did that just happen. Or did I go back and see her again. If only for a moment.

I don’t have the watch. Dad has it. I must have just dreamt that. I must have nodded off for a second. It has to be that. Would Dad have left the watch in the house? No I’m sure of it. He would have taken it with him. Kept it in his pocket or something.

I stand up and scan over the bed. It’s definitely not there. What happened there then? I must have just fallen asleep, must have done. Nothing more. Can’t have been. I don’t feel like I’ve slept, but I definitely must have.

I sit back down on the bed, feeling something hard under my leg. I shift and reach for whatever it is. A bishop chess piece. How did this get here? They move diagonally, my mum’s voice echoes inside me.

I place the bishop in my pocket, and leave the room. Dad should be home soon. Pacing around the kitchen, holding the bishop as if it’s the pocket watch. Why isn’t he home. He should be by now. It doesn’t take that long to get cheese toasties, does it? Is he going for a different reason. He’s going to get the police from the City isn’t he? He believes I killed Tobi.

No that’s stupid. He wouldn’t do that, what would he tell them? None of it would make any sense, would it.

What happened to Salime. Did he kill himself, or is he in custody. The newspaper is still sitting on the table, where Dad left it. I go over and pick it up. The story on the front has nothing to do with Tobi. Even though it’s a village newspaper. Something’s not right here. Was Dad lying to me? Does he know what I was doing. Is this his attempt at punishment.

I throw the newspaper at the wall and push myself out of the kitchen. Up the stairs and into Dad’s room. I don’t go in here, even if he’s here. It’s an unwritten rule, give him his space. I throw the quilt off the bed, empty his clothes chest. Nothing. No watch.

I go through the cabinet draws in the shop. Nothing. Just his tools, nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe he hid it behind the clocks. I can’t throw them on the floor though, and it would take forever to check them carefully. I look outside the window, into the still dark night. The stars, hung above the neighbouring houses, each one of them shining down on us.

Wasn’t it morning a minute ago? I leave the shop and head towards the cafe. That’s where Dad should be. There’s no one on the street. The whole world is quiet and perfect. My heavy footsteps rip through the silence as I rush through the streets.

I burst in through the door.

“Sorry, love. We’re just closing.”

“What about my Dad he said he was getting food?”

“I haven’t seen him for a while, you came in with him a few weeks back. He hasn’t been in since then. Sorry love. Maybe he got distracted on the way. I can make something for you two though. He’s always so nice.”

“That’s alright, thanks. I just need to find him.”

I don’t wait for an answer, I just leave. The streets are even emptier, somehow. The air isn’t moving. Have I frozen time? How could I have done that. I curl my hands into fists and start smacking my legs as I turn the next corner. The shop, my home is in front of me. I slam the door open. No one is inside. I walk straight through to our kitchen. Nothing. The newspaper isn’t on the floor, where I left it, or on the table.

I take the steps two at a time, and reach Dad’s room. Inside, everything is back in place. Mum is folding clothes to put in the chest, which doesn’t have any of the scratches on it that I’ve come to know so well.

“Nymia,” she says. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Hello,” I say, stiffling my shock.

“Come here, give me a hug. Are you back for another game of chess? I beat you last time, but you’re getting better.”

“Sure. That sounds nice.”

“Let me put these cloths away. Be quiet though, your Dad is downstairs. Working on those clocks. God knows how he can put so much effort into it. I could watch him do it all day.”

“I couldn’t. I hate that sound. Tick, tick tick tick.”

She smiles.

“This was a wedding present, from my parents. Isn’t it nice. I can’t believe they got us one. It’s the nicest thing we own.”

“It is pretty nice.”

“I’m sorry. I know that must sound so boring. I just miss them sometimes, this makes me feel closer. There. Grab the board out, and we’ll have a quick game. I think I’m starting to get used to seeing you so often.”

I pull the board out from under the bed, I’ve played with her before, I think. I know I have. The bishop is still in my pocket, I can feel it as I sit down cross-legged opposite my Mum. I stare at her, knowing this can’t be real. She takes out the bag with all the pieces inside, she pours them out and starts arranging them on the board. All of them, but the white bishop.

“Where has that gone?” she asks.

“I think I have it.”

“Why is it in your pocket,” she says with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, maybe I took it back with me.”

“You couldn’t have done, we played earlier with it. We had it then. Even if you took it from another time. One of those things?”

“Maybe.”

“Anyway, you move first.”

I go to make my move. Middle pawn forward as always. But I can’t move it. It’s stuck to the board, as if it’s been nailed down. Even though I just saw them tumbling on the board. I can’t move it at all.

“What’s going on,” I ask.

Mum’s gone. I hadn’t noticed while I was looking down. She’s just disappeared. I’m sitting in Dad’s room, a complete mess, with the bishop sat in front of me. What’s going on. I can’t stand it. I curl up and start screaming. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. Stop it.

This is real. It has to be. The bishop has gone. I’m real. The world is real. The room is a complete mess. I jump up and throw the quilt back on the bed, as neat as possible and straighten up the rest of the room. I then dart downstairs and fling the newspaper back onto the table.

Dad enters a minute later and hands me a bag. I can feel the warmth through the creased paper. It’s a cheese toastie. I can smell the singed melting delight inside.

“Thanks,”

“No problem. Now sit down, we need to have a word.”

I sit at the table, and take the toastie out of the bag. Dad does the same. We both take a bite, our faces churn in delight.

“What were you going on about earlier?” Dad asks, while still chewing.

“I don’t know. Honestly. I was just tired. It really took it out of me yesterday.”

I wasn’t lying. I truly remember nothing, about why I went back, if I went back or what had actually happened.

“Salime, he killled his family. He’s in the city now, locked away awaiting trial. He will probably be executed. No one really cares outside of this village, even the other villages don’t seem to care. I know this must be difficult, but that’s just one of those things that happen in life. It isn’t fair, and bad things happen. But you need to be a good person. I know you are. I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am. At least, I think, I am. I’m just tired.”

I look down at the toastie, it doesn’t feel warm any more. Not even remotely. The bread doesn’t even look slightly toasted. I peel back the near frozen bread slices and the bishop falls out into my lap. I look up at Dad who is still munching away, without a care in the world. He doesn’t even seem to notice me.

“This is the good stuff,” he says.

“Mine’s not right.”

“Really? Looks fine from here. Just eat it. You’re probably not used to something so great.”

“No seriously, look.”

“I’m looking at it. Nothing wrong with that. Eat it while it’s still warm.”

I don’t answer him again, he doesn’t understand. He can’t see it. My mind is broken. I’m ill. That watch has done something to me. I don’t know what, but it’s destroying my mind.

The toastie looks like a toastie again. I take another bite, and everything tastes good, exactly as it should.

After I finish eating, I go back upstairs. I don’t say anything. I just get up and leave. I know if I do say anything, to anyone something will happen. Something will change. The chess pieces will come back. I don’t know why. I’ve only played it with her once. Why is that the thing that’s coming back to me. What about anything else. Why the chess pieces. Tears well up in my face, I’m too tired for this.

I fall on the bed, and try to sleep. I feel like I could sleep forever. It’s still morning isn’t it? I don’t know any more. The world is spinning, I just can’t telling which way and how fast.

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The Broken Pocket Watch – Chapter Eighteen

The sunlight dances in as the breeze pushes the curtains away from the window. The cracks widen, and I’m stabbed by the bright shining blade of sunlight as the cruel icy wind laps around its heels. Together they wake me. I sit up, feeling like I’ve not slept at all. That instead I ran a marathon and then tumbled down as many stairs as I could find. What happened last night? Nothing. I know that.

Where to start. I haven’t decided, no matter how much I’ve thought about it during the week. Do I try to stop him before he leaves the village. Or get involved just before the fight. Maybe if I just follow him, and stop him that way. There has to be a good way of doing it. I just don’t want to fail. I only have one shot at this. I can’t just keep on going back, that will make things even more complicated than they have to be.

I get out of bed, stretch and try to make myself feel human, which is somehow a lot harder than it sounds. I don’t want to go downstairs to get anything to eat. I’ve been putting this off for long enough. It’s now or never. I reach over to the pocket watch, and grasping it tightly in my fist I think. Back to that Friday night. Just coming home from school, knowing how much Tobi hated me. Would that be enough time. Maybe that morning. Just after I left for school, so I won’t bump into myself. Me rushing out the door for school, last Friday. I focus on that thought, trying to remember what I had for breakfast. Even if I arrive when I’m downstairs, at least I won’t see myself. That might set this whole thing off-balance.

The world around me cascades into a waterfall of colours. It blurs into darkness, and then back again. Nothing has changed. That probably means I’m in the right place. My book might have moved on the bed-side table. But other than that it’s all the same. Even the smiling face, just there, looking at me like a guardian angel. Giving me some kind of boost that I didn’t realise I needed. I can do this. Outside the world is the same, I couldn’t tell the difference if someone offered me everything in the world.

I’ve never done this before, even though I’ve thought about it. Climbing out the window. It’s the only way this plan works. Dad never really leaves the shop, unless I’m there, so out the window I go. The window swings outwards on its hinge, frozen out in the icy winter air. All I need to do is climb down the wooden frame of the house, but that’s easier said than done. I could probably just jump down, it’s not that far. But if I hurt myself doing that, then that would be the end of all of this. I would get caught or go back to my time and get caught. Either way it’s not good. Maybe they’ll think I’m suicidal. I could blame it on the loss of my Mum. I could also blame it on the people at school and the crap they say. That would get them, wouldn’t it? They would be devastated that they could drive someone to that.

What am I thinking? This isn’t why I’m here. I just want to use the watch for the good of others. Using it for the full potential, not get back at the idiots at school. They have enough to feel bad about, just waking up knowing your useless should be enough. Let’s not put my death on top of that.

I grab the edges of the open window, hoisting myself out in the air. It’s odd how everything looks so different from just a slightly different perspective. I’ve never looked at the village like this, the buildings look different. The crooked wooden houses, each pointing to a different part of the sky. The dirt tracks running between them, so worn down that no grass could ever grow there. The village looks dark, but it’s not horrible to look at. This is home. And I’m going to make it just that little bit better. Shame that no one will ever know, but then again they says that’s true selflessness.

I turn and lower myself, hanging from the bottom of the window frame. I could probably drop from here, but that’s not going to happen. I didn’t realise I had a problem with heights before now. Well I suppose it’s more the falling I have a problem with.

The wooden boards that make up the outside of the house feel like they’re going to break away as I cling to them. They must have been nailed together years and years ago. No matter how many improvements Dad makes, this will always look as if it’s going to crumble. Is it too late to go back to my time and leave the house before I go back. Why didn’t I think ahead. This was stupid. And I want to be a hero who saves people. How am I supposed to do that, when I make leaving my own home into a quest in itself.

Just a couple more boards and I’ll be on the floor. I’m sure Dad will get questions about this. I’m not exactly being quick, people must have seen me by now. I take the next board and try to find a place for my foot, swinging it around like a drunk on the way home. Nothing, crap. I can’t believe this. Too late to turn back now, do I just jump? It’s not that far down, not that I can look down to check. I feel sick. I have to just let go. My hands release and I fall to the floor, landing perfectly on my feet, about an inch lower than my foot could reach before.

“Well that’s that sorted,” I start. “And now I’m talking to myself. This is amazing. I’m so going to make a difference around here. Well I best be off, nice talking to you. And you, see you soon.”

God. I’m not funny, even I find myself annoying. No wonder no one wants to spend any time with me. Should I be sad now? No. That isn’t going to solve anything. Now I just need to take one step at a time. Towards the city.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

I turn and freeze in place as if I’m about to be stabbed and know there is nothing I can do to stop it. It’s one of the neighbours.

“I’m on my way, I woke up late.” I state.

“Why do you look so scared? And didn’t I see you a minute ago.”

“I don’t think so. I’m going to be late, I need to go.”

“Isn’t it quicker if you go that way?”

“Yes. I was supposed to meet someone, but I bet they’ve already left and just gone to school.”

That was some quick thinking, I’m almost proud of myself. I should just go back to the present and then get into the city. Or go to the weekend. You know so people don’t ask these questions. Imagine what the guard at the gate is going to say. I should be at school. I don’t think he’ll let me explain that I am at school, just here at the same time.

I duck in-between two houses on the way to the school. A small forgotten crevice that I can hide in, shielding myself from the world. I used to play hide and seek here before I went to school, in the long summer days. When I was too young to help in the shop. When I didn’t understand the world at all. Back then the village was the only thing that existed, it was the only thing that mattered.

I pull out the pocket watch, ignoring the smell of god knows what. I probably shouldn’t have been playing here when I was smaller. I don’t remember it smelling like this though, as if this was the slaughtering ground of the farm. I need to go back to tomorrow. As if that’s a sentence that makes sense. I need to go to that Saturday. I close my eyes, and let the world around me flow, the gentle breeze bringing that foul stench as it tussles my hair, pushing its way through and around me, circling around me as I hide between these two buildings.

I open my eyes, knowing time has moved, the world shifted. Everything is different, even though I know it’s the same. I head towards the city gates, and no one speaks to me. A couple of people nod, but nothing. This is the way I should have gone from the start. I need to think smarter about this, I can’t go around making these stupid mistakes time and time again.

The guard lets me through the gate without much hesitation. I tell him I’m going to see family. He politely tells me he’s going to search me. I let him, and five seconds later the gate is slowly fading into the distance. I wonder if he knew what happened to Tobi’s Dad. I’m sure he does. He must have been the person who let him through the gate yesterday. He probably doesn’t know right now, but he will do. Give it time, but I’m not going to let that happen. I know where he was yesterday, and that’s all I need. I can help him before he needs help.

I read that newspaper over and over again, the one I the teacher gave me. I knew the story inside out. The timeline, ingrained in my head. I could picture every second as it played out, step by step. I’d read that thing more times than anything else. I had it kept next to my bed, it was the first thing I read every morning, and the last every night. I had to know it inside out, there was no way this could go wrong. I can’t risk messing things up and not being able to come back again to fix it.

He would have walked this path late Thursday night, heading towards the City, the towering spectacle growing ever closer, step by step. He never really left the village, but that day was different. It’s almost as if he was planning on dying. It was out of character. He reached the City, and straight away headed for a pub, the Brown Bear. He had been there before, years ago when he worked for the farm. They went there to celebrate a successful harvest. Things were looking up. It was probably the happiest time in his life. Maybe he wanted to repeat it, or maybe he saw that as the place he lost all hope, the beginning of the end. Apparently he drank all night, until closing. In silence. He spent all the money he had, took every penny from his family to drink himself to death. When he ran out of money he kicked off, caused a fuss. Got angry, and then wobbled outside into the street.

Witnesses saw him fall asleep in an alley, and left him. They were scared he was dangerous. At least that’s what the newspaper says, but it’s easy to say that in hindsight to make yourself feel better. Really these witnesses just didn’t want to help, they saw village scum. They are all just a list of people who didn’t do anything to stop what happened, but they can make themselves feel better. That’s good for them.

He spent the next day wondering around the streets, and when the police came to make sure he wasn’t bothering anyone he retaliated. A lost soul, on the brink of destruction pushed over the edge and into the abyss. He probably won’t be sober when I get to him, but at least he won’t be completely drunk like the night before. That is something I don’t want to deal with, if I’m honest.

As I walk towards the City, I double-check everything. I have a small idea where the pub is, but that’s about it. I know I’m on the right day, I checked that as many times as possible, its early morning, so he should be asleep in an alleyway.

I step into the maze, an elaborate snaking road that weaves between the gigantic buildings, blocking out the sunlight. It creeps in through the slits above us, highlighting us just enough. I wish I thought things through more. That I didn’t just walk into the City without finding out where the pub was. Why do I act so quickly. I never think things through, I just do it and then live to regret it. Everything I do is a mistake, what makes me think I can do anything to help anyone. I’m a failure, through and through.

I turn a few random corners, with no real direction in mind. All the time wondering if I could possibly retrace my steps to my uncle. Maybe he could tell me where the Bear was. That would solve a lot of problems, even if it would be a strange conversation to have. Another few random corners, and then it starts to dawn on me how stupid I really am. I’m not being harsh on myself. It’s ridiculous. I start these things, as if by fate I’m about to stumble across things. I’ve always been like this. Desperately searching to be the hero of my own story, but that’s not the way that life works. I’m not special, no matter how badly I want to be.

I turn one more corner, on the verge of tears. Fists clenched, and ready to turn around. I don’t belong here, dressed in these rags, dirty to the bone. Why do they even let me through the gate, to give me a glimpse of what I could achieve if I put my mind to it. That I can one day better myself, while in reality I should just curl up and accept that the village is all I will ever know. Mum couldn’t escape from it, and neither will I.

And there it is. Sitting part way down the street, The Brown Bear. I can’t believe it’s there. I’ve studied the picture for so long, and here it is, just popping out in front of me, as if I had willed it into existence. I can’t believe it, maybe fate is real, and this is my destiny.

I walk towards the building, knowing that I’m not going to be allowed inside. It’s not a school day, it’s Saturday. So at least I wouldn’t be asked that question, but that’s about as much luck as I’m going to have. No one is going to listen to a little girl from the village. Maybe. But that’s not what a hero would do. I need to know where he went. What ally is he asleep in right now, it isn’t that one next to the pub. Maybe they know something inside. I need to be brave and go inside. This is what I was born to do.

Why are pubs open this early, they really shouldn’t be. It’s heading onto noon, but it’s not quite there yet, and already there are people sitting in this dark dingy room. The whole City is out there, waiting for people to grasp every enjoyment out of it, the bright towers glooming over us, and still there are people in here. Not a lot, but enough to keep the place open. What a waste. I walk over the bar, avoiding eye contact with the staring onlookers. I don’t belong here, but I don’t need reminding.

“Hi,” I manage to say.

“Morning, what are you doing here? We don’t sell to the underagers here.”

“No, it’s not like that. I believe my Dad was here last night. From the village. I’m looking for him.”

“Oh, he’s your dad is he. That’s a shame. You seem like a nice girl. He was a bit of a mess last night, probably should have stopped serving him earlier, but couldn’t have guessed he was gonna turn like that, you know. Seemed a bit down a first, but that’s normal here.”

“Do you know where he went.”

“Yeah, kind of. I kicked him out around eleven. He started trying to fight people, and then he walked outside. I saw him on the way back to my flat, sleeping cocked up against the wall. Down an alley a little way down the road, yeah go out and in that direction. You tell him he needs to get himself sorted. He can’t be doing that to his kids. He needs to get back to the village and provide for you. Make sure you give him a hard time for it.”

“Thanks,” I turn without another word and start to head towards the entrance. The audience still stares, desperate to get a look at this intruder. It’s unsettling, as if they could all jump up and murder me, rip me apart so I don’t expose their secret, their early morning drinking.

Outside is a welcoming embrace. The chill in the air greets me, swirling around me, grabbing at me in a welcoming embrace. Slowly it picks off the stench of alcohol and faded regret. It takes them away from me, leaving me cold and alone in the street.

I can’t believe it’s only been a couple of weeks since we were sitting on that rooftop, watching the snow. So much has changed. It feels so much longer. I wouldn’t believe it, if someone had told me it was snowing. It was a distant memory, I don’t feel like I remember it at all. That’s what the watch has done to me. Time seems to have stumbled to a stop, and yet the days are flying past. I can barely remember one from the next.

I take the alley that the bartender mentioned. The smell hits me instantly, as if it was running straight for me. Targeting me in the alley. I was alone. One step into the alley and the city was left behind. I was completely alone here. My feet shuffled through the trash. It was hard to believe it was part of the same place. The rest of the city was so clean and pristine. This was hidden away, as if everyone was ashamed of it and agreed to do nothing about it.

Darkness crept around me, as the buildings grew and grew leaving the sunlight as a distant dream. I could just about make out the split bin bags that had been thrown down here, scattering their insides like war victims. At first I didn’t think anyone was down here. Salime wouldn’t have stayed here for long. I knew that much. Even if the papers didn’t know what he did exactly, they knew enough. He didn’t die until the afternoon. I had until then to get to him and stop him.

I reach the end of the alley, and it breaks into two pathways. Left and right, leading behind the rows of buildings I just walked in front of. I had no real idea which way to go, so I turned right, it was heading back towards the pub. Maybe Salime had headed back there from behind. It was possible.

Ahead of me there was a massive tub, it was overflowing with bin bags. Their liquid insides seeping out, draining along the tub. If I didn’t find Salime by then, I would turn back. I had time, but not enough to waste. Even with the watch, I could just go back and back. I can only imagine what would happen if I replicated myself at the same spot. I may not have the same worries as my Dad, but I still worry.

It didn’t matter, anyway. As I approached the tub, the bags started to move. My heart grew faster and faster, like a scared puppy wanting to escape from its cage. I stopped moving, not wanting to be too close. God knows what’s in there. It might not even be human.

“Salime?” I call out, quietly.

I don’t get a response, not that I was expecting one. The rumbling in the bags grow and they start to fall. A figure rises out of the tub and knocks the bags away. I step backwards.

“Salime?” I repeat.

A groggy and sleepy sound erupts from the figure. It’s Salime, I’m sure of it. Even though he is covered in a thick layer of grime, I know it’s him.

“Nymia?” he asks with a weak voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I can to look for you.”

“You’re here to gloat?”

“No, I’m here…” I don’t know how to explain it.

“Leave, I know who you are, your father. Leave me alone.”

“I can’t. I’m here to help. Tobi wants you to come home.”

“What are you on about? You know nothing. You didn’t know Tobi existed before. You never spoke to him. He never had a nice word to say about you. Your whole family is toxic.”

“I spoke to him yesterday. He’s upset that you’ve gone. He was crying at school.”

“And what?” He shouts as he stumbles out of the bin and towards me. His rotten breath freezes me in place. “You’re here to save the day. You don’t understand. Leave me alone child.”

As he turns away I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. Even though he’s not facing me, I can still feel his eyes. As he was standing in front of me, they seemed so distant. Angry and broken. His whole body had given up, it was struggling to stand and having an even harder time walking.

He was making his way through the small mountains of trash, back to the street. Maybe I’ve done enough. Maybe he’ll survive now. I can’t be sure though. He could walk out now, instead of later and still get into trouble. I’ve changed everything by waking him early, but I can’t be sure. I have to try again to get him back to the village.

“Salime. I’m not a child.”

“Yes you are,” he shouts without stopping.

“It doesn’t matter. Listen to me. I’m not the one causing Tobi to be in tears right now.”

That stopped him.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” he slurs as he turns back at me. Those spaced out eyes trying to focus on me. “You calling me a bad parent.”

“No,” I don’t want to go down that path, that’s not even a last resort. I don’t think he’s a violent man. But I don’t want to push someone who has drunk that much. “I’m not saying that. He’s sad you’ve left isn’t he? That means you’re a good parent.” I cringe at my words. I don’t know what to say. “All I’m saying is go back home to him.”

“Leave. Don’t come to me, shouting stuff like that. You don’t understand. You’re a child. Live like a child. The world is a different place than you think it is. Nothing is simple. Nothing is easy. Not for everyone. You will never understand. Your family gets away with living in that little bubble, filled with your pointless clocks. The rest of us have to make our own way. You were born into that. I don’t care what you’re trying to do. You think you’re doing good? You’re really not. You think I don’t know how I’ve failed my family? You think I’m that stupid. It’s just not that simple. I’m not talking to you anymore. Leave now.”

His words echo throughout my bones. His wavering eyes keep me from answering him. I’ve failed. He won’t listen to me. I can’t change anything. I don’t know enough to get through to him, he won’t listen to me. He’s right. I’m just a child.

He knows I’m not going to answer back. He’s put me in my place. I don’t move as he turns and walks away. The garbage is swirling around me, not letting me make more of a fool of myself. I can’t do any good. What was I thinking, trying to change anything? I was just being stupid. This watch doesn’t give me powers. It doesn’t help me get anything. I’m not special. I’m stupid.

I want to throw away the watch, throw it into the garbage, and never look at it again. Never think about this power. These last few months have been so pointless. I can’t just throw it away though. I know that. It’s not because it’s something my Dad gave me. It’s not because it’s my only way back to see my Mum, or even the only way back to my own time and home. It’s because I’m weak. I wanted to be special so badly.

Those books I’d read. I wanted to be like that. Living in a fantasy world full of exploration and adventures. I wanted to be special. I never admitted it myself, but I really thought that pocket watch was my start in a journey like that. I would save the village from poverty, somehow join my uncles fight for equality in the City. Together we would change the face of the Earth.

But it’s not that simple. It never is. I failed.

The garbage moves away from me, giving me a parting to walk though freely. I have nothing hold me back. If I was that hero, I would go and find Salime. I would drag him back to the village. Give him no other option. But big moves like that are too much for me. If I spoke to him, he would trample all over me again, and I would do nothing in return.

I’m sure he’s gone now, anyway. Found another alleyway somewhere to curl up into. I don’t think I’ve done enough, but I can’t carry on. I want to find my own alley to swallow me whole. Live there for a while and then disappear completely. What good do I do outside of that. I really believed that watch was something special. It is, but I’m not the right person for it. If I wasn’t such a coward I would throw it away right now.

I hate everything about today. I’ve done nothing right. I’m a complete mess. I can’t go home, tears rolling down my face. I’m not ready to face the world just yet, I need to go away for a moment. Just to figure out what’s going on. How much damage have I actually done.

I walk down the street with no real direction, but I end up at the cafe. I wasn’t heading there, but I’m not surprised either. It was no different from the last time I was there. People sitting around tables, either waiting or already drinking their drinks. A couple of people started looking at me, but they didn’t stare. They just darted their eyes to me and then off to the floor or their friends. I must have looked so out-of-place, in my rags. Everyone else wearing full clothes. I don’t think the alley stuck to me, but it probably did even if I can’t smell it.

I take the watch out and stare at it. Nothing has changed. Why would it have. The fingers still point to where they’ve always pointed. There is never a change. I’m focusing on the watch, when I should be making a decision. Do I go and see her now. Before she knows who I am. Before she’s my Mum. Should I go and see her like this, red-eyed and shaking? What harm can it do? I don’t need to speak to her, I just need to see her. She wouldn’t even remember it, how many people would she have served. Did she remember all of them? Any of them at all? No. I can go back and she’ll never know it’s me.

The world around me moves, it starts shaking, and then the pavement changes. It becomes older and cracked, as if the world around me is falling apart. The building in front of me, though, gets younger. Plants grow and thrive under the summer sun, standing tall on the windowsills. The tables are more crowded, and brighter. The yellow painted legs aren’t chipped and faded, they shine brightly in the sun.

She sees me straight away, stops while placing a cup on a table. She doesn’t move towards me, but stands still looking at me. Her eyes glowing, as tears slowly form. Her whole body starts to shake, until someone calls her over. She snaps out of her trance and walks over to the table. I see her smile, and say something. I’m not close enough to hear. Instead of going back inside, she walks straight over to me.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi,” I reply.

“Are you?” She pauses. “I mean, you know me?”

“I think so.”

“Are you related to NYMIA’s DAD”

“Yes.”

“I thought you were, I saw the way you looked at him before. I pieced it together after that. You look like me.”

“Thanks,” I chuckle.

“I can’t believe this is real. He took me back to see a band. They broke up when I was a child. I have all of their records, and I got to see them live. I couldn’t believe it.”

“It’s hard to take in. I still don’t get it.”

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“Are you really my daughter?”

“Yes, sorry”

“Why are you sorry. Come here. I can’t believe I’m holding you. You’re not even ten years younger than me. Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know. For you finding out like this.”

“Your Dad, he is a weird one. This family is so weird. We’ve only been on a couple of dates. No need to feel nervous about how it ends now, do I?”

I start to cry, shaking.

“No you don’t,” I sob.

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A Little Update

The Broken Pocket Watch chapter 18 will be uploaded tomorrow, after which there will only be 4 chapters left. It’s taken quite a while to get to this point, but we’re nearly there now. Just a few more weeks to go. After that I’m not sure what I’ll be uploading next. 2048 is nearing the half way mark so I’m not sure if I want to start uploading that without it being finished. From Within is finished, but needs editing. Maybe that will be next. I just need to actually get on with editing it.

Writing itself is getting into a good rhythm. I’m writing at least 3 days a week, which is good. Not perfect but better than the 1 day previously. I’m setting myself 500 words as a target whenever I start writing, but I often break that target and only stop when the words stop flowing. The problem I’ve got is, I don’t know where the story is going. I have a few scenes plotted out, but getting there is anyone’s guess. I’ve had this problem before, I’ll just keep on writing and it’ll fit together eventually.

I’m not reading enough, that’s just a fact. I’m making it my aim to read a little every day, even if it’s just a couple of pages. At the moment my reading time is divided between The Smoking Hourglass by Jennifer Bell and Sleeping Beauties by Stephen and Owen King. I’m enjoying both. I’m also reading, from the beginning, Jason Aaron’s run on Thor. I’ve never read it before, but am a big fan of Aaron. I want to catch up as soon as possible so I can read it as it comes out.

I binged The Punisher in a couple of days over the last week. What an amazing show. I was expecting it to be good, but not that good. After the disappointing Iron Fist and Defenders, it’s nice to know that marvel netflix shows still have some good in them. Bring on Season 2. I’ve started on Godless as well. Only 1 episode so far, but that’s down to length. It’s good so far, but it hasn’t amazed me yet.

Thanks for reading,

Ashley

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