Posted on by Craig Faulkner
It would be impossible to list everything about Nigel that I'm going to miss now he has passed. To provide an exhaustive list would be to write a biography of his life from the moment he was first handed to me as a kitten, leaving nothing out. There are things I simply can't recall on command while I'm writin… Read more »
Posted on by Craig Faulkner
I've never met anyone quite like Nigel. He was kind, he was funny, he was affectionate. He had a mischievous streak a mile wide, but he was pure with it; always innocent in intent. He made me smile. He made me laugh. He made me happy. He kept me company. In truth, I realised recently, he had become my best fr… Read more »
Posted on by Craig Faulkner
I miss going to the theatre. I miss the queue to get in and the huddle in the lobby. I miss hearing the debates as to which door people need to go through to get to their seats; mansplainers authoritatively declaring that they know their way around perfectly well—“thank you very much, Margery”—only to be turn… Read more »
Posted on by Craig Faulkner
Thursday, 19th March 2020 The CD player has seen its first use in months. I imagine it digitally—if somewhat outdatedly—flipping the bird at the Amazon Echo that sits on the sideboard next to it; the latter normally the go-to source of music in recent years, and one of several dotted around the house. The so… Read more »
Posted on by Craig Faulkner
Wednesday, 18th March 2020 It technically started yesterday. Some time around mid-morning, the management team emerged from their lair to tell us we were being sent home. Every day for the last couple of weeks, they've had meetings to discuss the progress of the virus that has crept its way across the planet… Read more »
Posted on by Craig Faulkner
It arrived in a box that was big enough to hold a body. The cardboard stayed in the garage, though not for that reason. If the thing inside didn't get used, it would need to go. Since the idea was so new, there was a chance it wouldn't stick. The intention was that it would get a lot of use. The expectation w… Read more »
Posted on by Craig Faulkner
I stare at the light, or rather the projection of it. It appears on the far wall; a vague rectangle of white upon a field of grey. 'Umm.' The leather chair beneath me squeaks an addendum to my murmur. She asks again. 'Try the top line.' I squint a little. There might be something else there, but mostly it's a… Read more »
Posted on by Craig Faulkner
Facebook doesn’t tell me it’s my dad’s birthday tomorrow anymore. I have to remember it for myself. It’s one of a handful of dates I’ve collected during my life that I can’t forget. Like the others, it’s etched on my memory along with the birthdays of all those I’ve ever been close to, and all the dates where… Read more »
Posted on by Craig Faulkner
I grew up surrounded by strong women. Both sides of my family were, and still are, highly matriarchical. My mother is the eldest of three sisters, with an older brother who, with the best will in the world, never stood a chance once they started appearing. My nan ran that household. As I mentioned in an earli… Read more »
Posted on by Craig Faulkner
My granddad on my mum's side was a man of many hidden talents. During the second world war, he was deployed as an army chef, and, for many years afterwards, he was an inspector at Alfred Herbert Ltd; then one of the world's largest machine tool manufacturers. By the time I knew him, he was already retired, bu… Read more »