Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Strange, Strange Rock

(And now for something I hadn't expected to be doing, a poem. Given that I haven't written a poem since school - which was under duress, of course :-) - I didn't know how this would turn out. In the end, the layout here didn't match the original scribblings at all, so if someone could come up with Cut'n'Paste for pen and paper, it'll help if I need to do more poems in future! Ohh, and the rock I used for inspiration can be seen here (external site). If this seems a little ... harsh? ... then my apologies to the sculpturer, but the first thing it made me think of was H. G. Wells' "War of the Worlds"! I also seem to recall a rule that a poem must contain the words "oft" and "ne'er", so I managed to squeeze them in :-) )

Harsh, grey stone,
So much out of place.
Forbidding and eerie,
Its strange pock-marked face.

Rough, cold rock,
Stands on its own.
Oddness surrounds it,
This alien stone.

Where did it come from?
Such a question oft asked.
No-one can answer,
Its origin will ne'er be unmasked.

Obligatory "Stab" at a Crime Story

(... which I can't even think of a title for! Why are they always called "Hard Candy" or "White Noise" or something like that?? Anyway... I'm a huge fan of C.S.I. and PJ Tracy, so I think a crime story is on the horizon somewhere. I played at a trivia game on the C.S.I. web site ages ago and managed to score full marks on about five episodes *before* I saw the note saying you should read the episode guides before attempting the game. It was multiple choice, but *still*! :-). I learnt a valuable lesson too on this story. I named the main character's partner as Amy on the first draft, but the name was nagging in my mind, so I did a search on "Amy Fisher". The lesson - always Google your characters' names!! The character is now named Claire. And yes, that *is* meant to be a nod to Six Feet Under, in case you were going to point that out!)

Lewis Fisher stood by his car and watched in dismay as his new shoes slowly soaked up water from the large puddle on the road. The trouble with being the on-call forensic pathologist was that the call usually came at the worst possible moment. This evening, it had been during a fancy dinner for two. He just hoped Claire would still be talking to him when he got home - not that that would be any time soon, he thought, glumly.

"Hi, Dan", he said, greeting the detective as he appeared out of the pouring rain, clearly showing just how wet Lewis was going to get. "What have you got for me now?"

Detective Daniel Walker was the sort of policeman who belonged more behind a desk than standing in the middle of rain-soaked fields, but having drawn a very short straw, here he was. Wrapped in a raincoat that had long since given up any pretence of being waterproof, his face showed his extreme discomfort and desire to be somewhere warm and cosy.

"Pretty sure it's an accident", he replied. "Looks like a cut and ... haha ...dry case, but ... you know, covering all the bases."

Lewis nodded and squelched around to the boot of his 4x4. Shielding himself as best he could against the pounding rain, he hauled out his crime scene kit and followed Detective Walker.

Trudging off the road, they made their way down a path hacked out of the undergrowth. Not more than twenty yards further on, the back of a car came into view, arc lights illuminating the scene with a harsh glare. Stepping closer, Lewis saw that the whole front of the car was crumpled in, the metal crunched around the trunk of a tree.

The rain had put paid to the fire in the car, which smoked lazily as rain hit the sizzling metal. Bending down at the driver's door, he peered in, recoiling by instinct from the charred form sitting on the remains of the seat.

"Accident?", Lewis asked, raising an eyebrow. Rain spattered his forehead and dripped into his glasses. Walker nodded.

"Came off the road at speed, through the woods and hit here. Broke the wrong thing and ... BANG!", he said, throwing his arms up to illustrate the point. Lewis grimaced.

"Cool, case closed, now I can go home", he thought, sarcastically. He set his kit down on the ground and pulled two pairs of latex gloves from his pocket. He pulled them on and stepped closer. He gazed into the car, taking in the scene, moving back and forth to allow the light to reach every inch. Finally he straightened up and sighed.

"I wish I could say it was an accident, Dan, but I doubt many people drive handcuffed to the steering wheel."