Over with a blue red flash, ceremoniously we closed. According to the Mayan calendar, this year would be the end of the world. Maybe it was all a ruse to expedite us, as nothing much happened. For the sake of narrative we crave drama, but it seemed to all run a little too smoothly for that, as if all had been papered over. Jubilant, her majesty still endured. Charlie's eldest is happily wed. So why did that chanteuse want to scream and shout? Tell all of the papers what exactly? Despite all the media hyperbole, something seemed to be lurking beneath the extravaganza.
There were no terrorist attacks - no gunmen perched upon balconies - and no Hollywood film director would be documenting the catastrophe. Women still give birth. That girl power group even got back together. Yet, at least some of us, anyhow, couldn't help but think that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong; something unspoken awaiting discovery. Could we have predicted that those bickering brothers wouldn't have got it together in time? No, it was more than that. Something appeared to be missing, like whatever was meant to have occurred hadn't happened. It felt like the end of our era already, and we'd only just begun. For us it was dismal, like a death. We were yet to know of the fate of Venice, but the flames of teenage riots still licked our darker recesses. Maybe the kids really weren't alright.
Yet, already it feels like a distant memory as 'that other competition' opened with a rain of umbrellas. Remixed, it seemed to be signalling our tomorrow; all our tomorrows, and boy do they flex a bit different; girl even. In entered the future onto our screens, limping and spinning proudly with a defiant gleam. It seemed to be signalling something prescient about our destiny that Superman had died a quadriplegic. Our heroes – our titans - seemed dwarfed by their counterparts. A little bit weird, maybe it won't be as conventionally beautiful as we expected, and perhaps we won't be of quite the same stature either, but, if anything, we will remain strong in the face of adversity. Sure, we're going to need a hand here and there, and it will have cost some of us an arm and a leg too, but we will make it, tomorrow will continue to come, we'll just be differently enabled.
YOU ARE READING
'Multistories' is a collection of short stories interspersed with assorted interludes of text and two short film scripts. It is his first book for adults and reflects the more mature experiences of such an audience. The stories tackle both the sac...