top of page


Updated: Mar 12, 2023

He was sat in the canteen. It was lunch time and Harry Hills TV shite was on the screen behind him. Unconvincing laughter spilled out of the speakers in a poor attempt to liven the mood. Not that he needed any help. It was bank holiday weekend and despite the lockdown, things were looking up. The BBQ had been cleaned, beers were in the fridge and the wife was prepping some food. Another 6 hours, he thought. Another 6 hours then the weekend is yours. He looked out the window. Another pleasant day that should lead into a pleasant weekend. The sun came down without hesitation and it looked as though a breeze was blowing. He smiled to himself. Yes, he thought, this weekend will be lovely. The whistle blew and it was time for him to get back on the factory floor. The cheese wasn’t going to pack itself. He dropped his lunch box in his bag and took one last peak outside. Beautiful, he thought. He turned to leave but something caught his eye. Some workers were setting up a mast of sort outside the factory. He tapped a colleague on the shoulder. “Hey, Karl, what’s that they’re doing there?”. He pointed to the mast. “Ah, that’s one of the 5g thingies. They’ve just knocked up a few near mine”. “Ahh yeah. I’ve heard about them. That David Icke bangs on about them”. The pair laughed and made their way back to work.

Work was over and the weekend was here. The BBQ was grilling, the sun was shining, and the beers were out. This lockdown didn’t mean anything, not today. Today was his and the wife’s. He looked up at the sky and marvelled in its clarity. The sky was his. Nothing dared obstruct its majesty. No clouds, no planes. Even the birds were missing. A shame, he thought. Nothing pleased him more than the sound of a dozen birds overhead. “What on earth are they doing?”. His wife had become disgruntled. He took his gaze off the sky and looked to where she was staring. Another mast was going up outside his house. “Hmmm”. He grumbled. “That’s one of those 5g masts”. “Oh, I’ve heard about them. Don’t they scare away the birds?”. “No darling. Don’t be daft”. She sighed and returned to her book. “Well, I don’t like them anyway”.

Summer was drawing to an end. The days were drawing in and the nights harboured the faintest of chills. He often found himself looking forward to this part of the year. It reminded him of a hazy Sunday evening. The way the summer would stretch itself and have one last lazy yawn before retiring for the year. The colours on the leaves would soon turn and that autumn smell would once again fill his senses. He was driving to work through town. It was 05:20. His favourite time of day. Not a soul in sight. The road was his. Yes, the days were long, but for this small window, he had the world to himself. Or at least he did. A pair of temporary traffic lights had been set up at the crossroads, bringing an end to his solace. Another mast. He tutted to himself as he waited for the red to turn green. He went to peak out and spy what was going on, but his gaze was drawn by a creature on the floor. Not a creature, a bird. He looked around in an attempt to find the tree it must have fallen from but all too soon, the light turned green. He pressed on to work.

Snow fell outside. Winter was here and Christmas was in the air. The canteen was decorated with a dozen snowmen, baubles and trees. He smiled as he looked around. Everyone was in high spirits. Six more hours, he thought. Six more hours then that’s it till after the holidays. The snow fell with a level of grace only true nature could achieve. Organised chaos as a billion and one snowflakes fell in no order whatsoever. The snow was only a few centre meters deep, but that’s all it needed. Everything was fuzzy and warm. His thoughts turned to his wife, who would be finishing work and on her way home. He scanned the canteen and smiled, exchanging nods and pleasantries as and when he found the eyes of others. Eventually his eyes found Karl. He was slumped in the far corner, head in hands and eyeballing the masts outside. Since the summer, another two had been put up. With it being the season of festive cheer, he packed up his lunch box and made his way over. “Alright Karl? What’s the matter pal?”. It was only has he got closer; it was visible that Karl was crying. Karl wiped away his eyes with haste. “No, its nothing”. Still, he stared at the masts. The whistle blew and not wanting to draw any attention to Karl, he patted him on the shoulder, wished him a good Christmas and went on his way. A moment later and he was back on the factory floor. “Have you heard about Karl?”. Two co-workers were just ahead of him, speaking in low voices. “No?”. “Doctors reckon she’s not got long left”. He felt a lump in his throat. He didn’t need to hear this, yet he found himself speeding up slightly so as to keep pace. “Yeah, she’s got the cancer. Baffled as to why. She was fit as a fiddle apparently”. The conversation continued, but he did not. Stopping in his tracks, he found his mind drift to his wife.

He zoomed past fields of baby lambs and blossoming wildflowers. Past the trees that were regaining their colours and the returning birds of spring. He had no time to soak it all in, for he was in a rush. Today was his anniversary and he mustn’t be late. He pulled into his estate and diverted his eyes down. The masts that stood sentry were distasteful and turned his stomach. Something about them was evil. But today was no day for such matters. He parked up and rushed inside. “My love! My darling! Where art thou for today is the day!”. Nothing. He heard a noise upstairs and within seconds, he had summited and was at the bathroom door. “Darling?”. He pushed the door open slightly to find his betrothed, stood at the mirror. Sobbing, naked and with her hand on her breast. She turned to face him, and his heart shattered.

The doctor sat down in front of them. His face was stern and unapologetic. “I’m afraid, its as we expected”. His wife began to cry. He wanted to but she needed him. Now more than ever. She sobbed into his shoulder and he stared out the window. Eyes fixed on the masts beyond.

17 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

The Clown Of L1

There's a clown in L1 who sings into a broken microphone. He has an Oscar trophy (legitimate or replica, I do not know) that he often keeps on top of his speaker. Some days he is barefoot. Some days

The Bard

There's a chap on bold street who's pitched up outside a Mexican eatery 6 days out of the 7. He wears a poncho and a sombrero and sings Latin songs that my novice ear is yet to understand. Thick set f

Lone Ranger

Glen Nevis campsite. Me (Turkish), Batman, Bruce, and Specs, have rolled into the bar. Inside, a place of ale, chips and good chat. Outside, the foothills of Ben Nevis tease of a good hike on the morr


Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page