http://www.curiouspages.com/Short stories, comment, analysis, and full-length classic fiction, all to read free of charge.en© Copyright Fletcher Kovich, 2013. All rights reserved.editor@curiouspages.com (The Editor)webmaster@curiouspages.com (Channel Manager)Fri, 6 May 2011 17:37:17 GMTFri, 6 May 2011 17:37:17 GMTLiteratureCuriousPages RSS Generator 1.0.0http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss1440http://www.curiouspages.com/images/rss.jpghttp://www.curiouspages.com/8831http://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/selfishHeartAttack.phpToday, we heard that Rhyan's brother-in-law (Daryl) had a heart attack. He was 32. He is at home recovering now. He works extensive hours in a high stress job, earning next to nothing, and supports two young children, his wife, a crippling debt. Rhyan said that when his mother heard about the heart attack, her first comment was "How selfish of him, to have a heart attack and not think of who would support his children." fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)People: fact is stranger than fictionFri, 6 May 2011 17:37:17 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/selfishHeartAttack.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com//fiction/TroutCeleryStuffing.phpI was sitting across a restaurant table from Roger, whom I had never liked. Every so often, in mid sentence, his tongue would creep from the corner of his mouth and lick his lower lip. For years I analysed this and so far had not managed to fathom his peculiar habit, for "peculiar" to me it did seem. Each time he paused his speech, I carefully considered the word on either side of his lick. I watched his tongue tiptoeing over his lower tip and tossed the words around in my mind, ever more frantically, as if my solving of the riddle might magically beat his tongue into retreat. But no, I could see no reason and was left to endure the torment of that sight-unexplained. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Short storyThu, 28 Apr 2011 21:40:37 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com//fiction/TroutCeleryStuffing.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingTheGallery.phpIt had been over two years since I completed the first draft of this story. I looked at it again and, apart from a few tiny edits, I felt that the story needed some further episodes inside the gallery. I've added one further room, amplifying the themes covered by the remainder of the story and, though the story is still short, I think that it seems more complete now. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionWed, 16 Feb 2011 10:27:01 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingTheGallery.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/farewellLetterToMother.phpDear mum. I will always treasure our last six months together; the months before you became ill, and the months afterwards. We became closer and closer, as we had been doing over the previous few years, as though we were both now getting too old to focus on anything but the positive things between us. And in the last few months you became unusually emotional, which was a revelation. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesThu, 27 Jan 2011 19:42:53 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/farewellLetterToMother.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/shorterworks/waitingToDie.phpWe sat and I held your hand. There was nothing left to say. Your life was over and now you were simply waiting to die. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)PoemThu, 27 Jan 2011 19:38:16 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/shorterworks/waitingToDie.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/psychicUmbilicalChord.phpFor a day or two I have noticed something unusual. And now that I have realized what this feeling is, it has made me aware of just how closely connected with my mother I was. Previously, I could always sense that she was nearby. This could only have been a "psychic" or "telepathic" connection, because there is certainly no explanation for the mechanism that enables people to communicate in this way. Previously though, I was not aware of this. I guess I took it for granted; or it was so subtle I was not consciously aware of it. But for the last two days or so, I have noticed it is not there. It is as though a part of my brain, an area of it, is now missing; or as though some extra limb, which I was not consciously aware of, is no longer there, and if I were now to attempt to lean on that limb, I would fall over. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesTue, 4 Jan 2011 21:37:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/psychicUmbilicalChord.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/farewellToMother.phpFirst you started falling-as if the ground were trying to claim you. And you wondered what was happening. Then your knees no longer supported you and I walked beside you, arm in arm, with Rhyan on your other arm, but you could take less and less steps. We tried walking you to the bathroom but could not make it. We collapsed onto your sofa and you told me, resigned: "Fletch, I'm done for." fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesMon, 3 Jan 2011 19:42:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/farewellToMother.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingWhimperingBeach.phpI looked again at this story. One year had passed since I completed the previous draft, and this time I managed to reduce the story by 565 words. Here are each of the successive verison: fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionFri, 24 Dec 2010 13:28:44 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingWhimperingBeach.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/telepathyAgain.phpLast night I woke in the early hours, thinking my mother was nearby and needing attention. At first I thought she was beside me in bed but when I checked, it was Rhyan. I was so convinced she was physically near that I had to get up and check in my living room to make sure she was not there. I think I imagined her bed had been installed there. Of course she was not and I realized she was in a nursing home in Weston-super-Mare (about twenty miles away). fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesSun, 19 Dec 2010 11:46:14 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/telepathyAgain.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingFurtherAndreaSegovia.phpIt had been two years and six months since I finished the previous draft of this story. I've edited it again and managed to reduce it by 1,271 words (with no loss of content). The files below show all the edits: fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionFri, 26 Nov 2010 11:23:27 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingFurtherAndreaSegovia.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingDanielWineStain.phpIt had been almost a year since I completed the previous draft. I looked at this story again and did two or three rounds of editing, which reduced its length by 1,093 words. I still feel that perhaps the story is too long and that some sections could be shortened. But this does depend on what audience I imagine for it. In some formats, this "full length" version is appropriate, but in other formats, it might be appropriate to shorten the story. Anyhow, whatever reservations I had about previous drafts, I am currently pleased with this new version. I think the edits have made it even more powerful (now that I'm not being so "lazy" with my editing"). Below is a list of all the versions I've published on this site: fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionTue, 16 Nov 2010 10:30:45 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingDanielWineStain.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingPriceToPay.phpTwo years after first completing this story, I looked at it again and did two rounds of editing on it. I managed to reduce its length by 177 words. The passage beginning "I glanced at the image on the screen". Once you start reducing all text to its minimum, so that economy is the prime aim in editing, passages such as this one risk being chopped out completely fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionThu, 4 Nov 2010 12:27:36 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingPriceToPay.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingFurtherSamuelPamsSalvation.phpIt had been two years and seven months since I first completed this story, and one year and two months since I last edited the story. I again looked at it and did two further rounds of editing. This time I managed to reduce its length by a further 773 words. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionThu, 28 Oct 2010 20:57:29 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingFurtherSamuelPamsSalvation.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingFurtherIrresistibleTemptation.phpEight months after finishing this story, I have edited it again. I went through three drafts and reduced its length by 260 words. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionThu, 21 Oct 2010 17:33:55 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingFurtherIrresistibleTemptation.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/seeingSupposedDoppelganger.phpThe idea that an actor would be playing me in a TV show amused me greatly. In fact, it seemed so fantastic, when I heard about it, I couldn't stop laughing for hours. The whole thing began the previous day when Rhyan received a phone call at about 5.30am. He was asleep and I lay listening to his phone. After the second missed call, I got out of bed to get his phone for him, in case it was his family trying to contact him from the Philippines (they are seven hours ahead of us). fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesMon, 18 Oct 2010 21:19:36 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/seeingSupposedDoppelganger.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingSubstitutePassion.phpFive months after first completing this story, I've looked at it again and edited it. I managed to reduced it by 368 words, with about 100 of these from the first paragraph. It is certainly shorter now (!) and I hope better. With some passages I struggled to decide whether they were better in or out, and it is possible that some of those babies may have been tossed out, but at least the bathwater has gone. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionThu, 14 Oct 2010 13:28:44 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingSubstitutePassion.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingChoosingtheRightDrinks.phpEleven months after first completing this story, I have looked at it again and edited it. I was shocked, and embarrassed, at how much work there was to do on it. I managed to remove 588 words. I think that with this, and my previous short stories, I was aware that I was not spending the right amount of time on the editing, and I've wondered why. I think it was because previously I did not know if my work was of any value, whether anyone other than myself would be interested in reading it. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionSun, 10 Oct 2010 13:52:07 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingChoosingtheRightDrinks.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/ThrowingOfRice.phpMy wedding (an intimate affair at the Register Office) was attended by a group of Filipino friends. It occurred to me afterwards that none of them showered us with confetti or rice. I asked Rhyan if it was a custom in the Philippines to shower newlyweds with rice. He said it was. I asked why they did not do this to us. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)People: fact is stranger than fictionSat, 2 Oct 2010 10:38:22 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/ThrowingOfRice.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingMartialArtist.phpRhyan moved in with me a few months ago. For the first few days, I was struck by how challenging I was finding the fact that nothing seemed to be in its "proper" place any more. And when I watched him doing things like washing up and noticed that every aspect of what he was doing seemed "wrong" to me, I had to exercise, what seemed like, extreme self control to keep myself from shouting out to him, in shock, that it should not be done like that. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionThu, 30 Sep 2010 18:55:07 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingMartialArtist.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/MartialArtist.phpThe sun had risen ten minutes ago and Jack Hutton walked into his bathroom. After fourteen years of training as a martial artist, he possessed a marble-like confidence in his ability to meet any earthly challenge. So confident was he that his usually calm and blank expression had even begun to adopt an occasional twinkle of complacency. But this he resisted, for he knew that such flaws were the downfall of champions. One day, he knew, he would meet his match. He reached for the soap but it was not there. In disbelief he looked down at the washbasin's empty surface. Unable to believe the evidence of his eyes, he began involuntarily rubbing the porcelain, as if to check that he was not hallucinating, or as if to perform some magic spell that might liberate the soap from its invisibility. Whatever his intention, he was disappointed, as the soap did not reappear. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Short storyThu, 30 Sep 2010 18:50:46 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/MartialArtist.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/UseForFrogs.phpRhyan told me of a handy trick his mother used to train his younger brother (in Cebu, the Philippines). His brother used to sleep in his mother's bed and he could only get to sleep if his hand was resting on his mother's breast. Once he'd reached the age of eight, she felt the need to retrain him, so she took to sleeping with a frog on her breast. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)People: fact is stranger than fictionTue, 28 Sep 2010 16:52:44 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/UseForFrogs.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/bigBlackMonster.phpLast night I woke in the early hours, having had a vivid dream. I was in a domestic setting somewhere and discovered a big black creature in the garden which was trying to get into the house. It was like a cross between a bear and an ape, though it always walked on its hind legs; it was most like a man in a black ape suite, I guess, though walking upright and not trying to mimic an ape. I went back inside the house and it managed to follow me in. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)DreamsSun, 19 Sep 2010 09:53:55 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/bigBlackMonster.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/TCM/StrokeExplanation.phpWestern medicine believes that most strokes are caused by a blood clot travelling to the brain and blocking the blood supply to a part of the brain. But in Chinese medicine it is understood that many strokes are not caused in this way. There is no blocking agent involved at all. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Chinese MedicineFri, 10 Sep 2010 19:29:07 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/TCM/StrokeExplanation.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/myFatherVisits.phpLast night, I dreamt about my father. He died about sixteen years ago, and I had never before dreamt about him, not even when he was alive. It was as though he had come to me in my sleep to give me some message. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)DreamsTue, 7 Sep 2010 19:45:06 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/myFatherVisits.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/nothingWastedPhilippines.phpLast night Rhyan was showing me some Facebook pictures of a group of his friends. He told me he has a few transvestite friends and that they used resourceful techniques to imitate female breasts. One, "Diane", would usually place bread rolls down the front of his dress, and another, Marvin, would usually fill two condoms with water and place those down his dress; one advantage of this method, he told me, was that the boobs would bounce as Marvin walked. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)People: fact is stranger than fictionWed, 25 Aug 2010 10:57:32 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/nothingWastedPhilippines.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingBalletDancer.phpThe inspiration behind this story happened one morning after Rhyan had woken. I asked him how his sleep had been and if he'd had any dreams. "Yes," he said, "I dreamt I was a ballet dancer." fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Sketchbook entryTue, 10 Aug 2010 13:31:28 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingBalletDancer.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/BalletDancer.phpBenjamin Clark was thirty-two. He worked in a call centre, selling medical insurance, and lived in his childhood home with his mother. The course of his life had been changed forever at the age of eighteen due to a single reckless decision made while holidaying in Spain. But by now he had come to learn that each new day could yield up its own sparkling jewels, whatever your circumstances were, and on this Monday morning, he appeared to be in unusually high spirits as he took his fourteenth call of the morning. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Short storyTue, 10 Aug 2010 13:21:34 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/BalletDancer.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/completeIdiocy.phpI frequently find it hard to believe the complete idiocy of Western medicine. A new patient came to me six weeks ago, a 27 year old woman. For almost three months, she had been experiencing nausea, an intense pain below her sternum, and trembling. The symptoms had only worsened over this time and now she was also experiencing extreme anxiety and found it almost impossible to eat, since she would often vomit after eating. During this three month period, she was being treated by Western medicine. She had been given a range of diagnoses and also a range of chemical remedies, but her symptoms had only worsened, often in response to the chemical remedies. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Chinese MedicineThu, 24 Jun 2010 13:24:54 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/completeIdiocy.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/tragicJeepneyRide.phpYesterday, Rhyan told me of an accident that he was involved in when he was nineteen. He was late for college one morning, so he took one of the older jeepneys (the silver, unpainted ones), rather than the new ones (which are painted). The older jeepneys usually drive faster and are known for being involved in more accidents. His mother would frequently remind him not to ride those jeepneys, but on this morning he was late and he felt he had no choice. The Danao jeepney (travelling from Danao to Cebu City) arrived and he flagged it down. It was already overcrowded, but he climbed onboard. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesWed, 23 Jun 2010 18:11:51 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/tragicJeepneyRide.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/ThickBlackLips.phpYesterday mother met Rhyan. Her first words to him were "You're an attractive boy". Then, later in the day, I made the mistake of asking her if my stomach was too big. She was mid-sentence. She broke off and nodded, saying, "It's disgusting; you look pregnant." She then continued with her sentence, as though she had made a harmless aside, complimenting someone on the design of their flower arrangement, "Oh, you're tummy is disgusting; you look pregnant." fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)People: fact is stranger than fictionTue, 25 May 2010 08:13:12 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/ThickBlackLips.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingSubstitutePassion.phpFor the past few months I've been wrestling with doubts over the direction that my writing should take. Should I continue writing fiction, or should I spend all my writing time working on the acupuncture book that I've been planning for the past two years but have not yet started? Before writing A Substitute Passion, I had began another short story, planned it in detail and began writing it, but I gave up work on it. I felt that I didn't believe in the story, didn't care about the characters, or didn't believe any more in the process of writing fiction. I didn't know what the problem was, but felt that I could not go on writing the story, or perhaps could not go on writing fiction. I had lost my passion for it-it seemed. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionThu, 13 May 2010 11:31:42 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingSubstitutePassion.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/SubstitutePassion.phpMandy Truman was forty-five and was wearing stilettos for the first time in twenty-two years. The last time she wore them, she fell off them and broke her left ankle. She had been arguing with a parking attendant who had ticketed her new car which was an affront to all that she held dear-her hackles rose; her pulse quickened; her breast swelled-How dare he slap that insolent notice on her pristine windscreen; he would have caused no less offence if he had relieved himself there instead, and that after having slashed her tyres and daubed her paintwork with graffiti which proclaimed her sexual services to be up for rent, and for the mere price of a cup of tea-How dare he. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Short storyTue, 11 May 2010 17:19:19 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/SubstitutePassion.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/biography.phpI was always a strange bugger. Or perhaps I was an acute observer from a young age and around me I saw nothing but strangeness, so this made me feel that I was strange. The outside is reflected within me. I am a mirror-a "strange" mirror. Apparently. I have a few choice memories from my pre-school years and legend has it (or, at least, the recollections of my mother has it) that I did not speak a word until I was four; she took me to all sorts of specialists who, after much head scratching, told her that there was nothing wrong with me and I would talk when I was ready. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesSat, 1 May 2010 22:19:24 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/biography.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/shorterworks/aJoke.phpA man walks along a dark corridor. He opens a window, one of many windows that he has previously tried; so tired is he of the sight through them that he now opens them unconsciously and barely bothers to glance at the view; but when he opens this one he is greeted with a glorious sight. Tears well up from deep within him and obscure his view; he struggles to breathe through his aching throat, which feels as though having been slit with a knife, but he gasps and steadies his rushing heart. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Prose poemMon, 26 Apr 2010 15:31:58 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/shorterworks/aJoke.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/shorterworks/manByWindow.phpI wait at the terminal. I can hear the distant sound of train wheels on tracks, threading through the air like the sound of a zip being unfastened, as though, at night, as it is now, the sky on this city is being peeled back to reveal to those interested the deeds of this day. I wonder what they will see, what their eyes will disturb, a thousand people lying motionless in their troubled sleep, their minds reliving the misdeeds of their day, should they have kept quiet as the day seeped away, should they have turned to the man beside them and said... fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Prose poemSat, 17 Apr 2010 11:16:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/shorterworks/manByWindow.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/shorterworks/waitingForaMyth.phpIt has been winter for too long. I used to wonder if there was any other state than this, to feel a void within my heart, my chest a barren orchard, no fruit of any kind grown here, not even a canopy of soft green leaves, like the fingers of tiny angels brushing against my cheek, no sweet scents, no blue sky-the dazzling jewel of blue that crowns a summer's day, glowing, glorious-not even this above my barren orchard. Yet I must carry it around, as I did for decade after decade. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Prose poemMon, 12 Apr 2010 16:49:29 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/shorterworks/waitingForaMyth.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/aWalkinParkSpring10.phpToday it was 17 Celsius and there was a clear blue sky most of the day. It hasn't felt this warm since the end of last Summer, and after our exceptionally long and cold, and snow and ice-bound Winter, today felt like the recall of a forgotten but cherished memory. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesFri, 9 Apr 2010 11:49:57 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/aWalkinParkSpring10.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/difficultDecisionLetPatientsDie.phpMy biggest frustration while working as a healer is a common lifestyle factor that destroys a person's long-term health (and in many cases will be directly responsible for eventually killing them); and this lifestyle factor also greatly impedes all real healing and in some cases prevents it from working at all; and what makes this situation so frustrating is that this "evil" lifestyle factor is state-sponsored; indeed it is seen as an essential element of life and in some instances it is even illegal for citizens to not partake in some aspects of this lifestyle factor. Am I describing a society of eight hundred years ago in the West which had every aspect of life dictated by the unchallengeable tenets of some all-powerful religion? fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Chinese MedicineWed, 7 Apr 2010 12:09:45 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/difficultDecisionLetPatientsDie.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/anUnexpectedTwinkle.phpI don't know quite how the conversation ventured that way, but earlier this evening I was talking to my mother (who is almost eighty) and she started telling me about all the local men who had been recently pursuing her, and conquests she could have had if she had been interested. I must say that I had seldom (in my whole life) seen such a twinkle in her eye. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)People: fact is stranger than fictionSun, 28 Mar 2010 22:23:18 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/anUnexpectedTwinkle.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/aWobbleInMyDay.phpYesterday (Wednesday 24 March) was one of those days when everything seemed to go wrong. It started with my first booking. It was an "ad hoc" booking (my regular clinic session on Wednesday starts at 2pm, but I had booked an extra hour for this patient, from 1pm). I somehow had the feeling that this patient might cancel, so I didn't book the room space until late that morning, though she had made the appointment with me two weeks before. I sent my usual text message reminder to her at about 9am and by about 10am all seemed ok, so I went ahead and booked the room, and then at about 12 midday, she sent me a text message to say she had to cancel because... (and gave an excuse, which may or may not be true; we shall see) fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesThu, 25 Mar 2010 16:29:57 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/aWobbleInMyDay.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingIrresistibleTemptation.phpThe passage of time is a wonderful thing; in the space of a single night, your whole world can seem to change (as far as personal perceptions of other people and situations, are concerned), but when several weeks have gone by, this can allow a writer a privileged glimpse of his own work-'privileged' since it allows you to see the work as a reader might. Yesterday, I looked again at Irresistible Temptation and made several small changes, and larger changes to two passages, which, I recall, at the time of completing the work, I knew were not right, but I guess I felt lazy, or just impatient to finish the work and move on, so I let the flaws stay. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionSun, 28 Feb 2010 17:30:02 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingIrresistibleTemptation.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/letCirclingDogs.phpIn a dream last night, I was walking in the park and, in the distance, a big, black dog with long flowing hair was running circles around me. He was about 100 yards away from me, so the circle was quite large, as though he were interested in me but was extremely shy. When walking in the park, I have an aversion to dogs approaching me, lest (as happens with dogs who belong to complete idiots) the dog jumps up at me (as the complete idiot, due to their negligence in declining to train-or control-their dog, has trained their dog to do). Despite my aversion, in this dream, I decided to see if I could "connect with" the dog, to influence its behaviour. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)DreamsFri, 26 Feb 2010 12:45:34 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/letCirclingDogs.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/hideOfHumanArm.phpI have a "wind chill" lodged in the left side of my back at the moment, which means I get sudden shooting pains when I move in a particular way. Last night I had broken sleep because of this. I woke at one point and needed to pee, but I couldn't get up out of bed; I tried rolling over in different directions, but each time I attempted to lift myself up, the shooting pains sprinted across my back and I called out, "Ow!" Don't know what my neighbours thought I was doing it. Anyway, after a while, I managed to master the technique of getting out of bed with my current "impediment". fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)DreamsWed, 24 Feb 2010 11:18:05 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/hideOfHumanArm.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/chillyWindDothBlow.phpToday it was snowing again. It is now only one month away from the "official" start of Spring. Last week, one of my patients commented that this has been the coldest winter we've had for well over ten years. It certainly was chilly when I got back into the UK in January, and we then had a further two weeks of such thick snow and ice on the roads and pavements that many people were snowed in, and for most, normal transport was not possible. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)CuriositiesMon, 22 Feb 2010 21:03:41 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/chillyWindDothBlow.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/PolicemenMustBeFed.phpI was reading some messages on a Philippine expat Yahoo group that I subscribe to. An American was concerned about being robbed by the police at traffic checkpoints. He had recently bought a scooter, and a friend of his had been stopped by the police at a checkpoint. The American had all the correct paperwork but the policeman simply ignored those and asked him to pay 100 pesos "for a snack". The American was concerned about also being held up by the police at a checkpoint in this same way. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingMon, 22 Feb 2010 17:31:23 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/PolicemenMustBeFed.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/innateSkillOf.phpYesterday, I was stood in my mother's kitchen, along with my sister. My mother was analysing my new hair cut. She said, "The back looks okay," and then there was a pause. I looked at my sister, and I could tell that she was waiting for the same thing that I was. Then my mother continued: "It's a pity the front isn't the same." fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)People: fact is stranger than fictionMon, 15 Feb 2010 21:47:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/innateSkillOf.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/IsItUsefulWriterGiveAnalysis.phpRhyan (my partner) read Irresistible Temptation and we discussed it afterwards. Initially, he said that he did not understand the significance of the garden, nor that of the school exam. Though a Filipino, Rhyan is an English Literature graduate and is well read, so this makes me wonder what the average reader's experience of this story might be (or, indeed, of any of my other stories). In literature, there is, quite rightly, an emphasis on subtlety. The content that is not stated but is merely hinted at, and which the reader much therefore work out, or "create" for himself, does have a much bigger impact in the reader's mind than any content that is directly stated-in general. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionMon, 15 Feb 2010 16:15:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/IsItUsefulWriterGiveAnalysis.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/AnalysisIrresistibleTemptation.phpI had another detailed discussion with Rhyan yesterday, after he had read Irresistible Temptation again. I found it striking that we had a different interpretation of most of the events in the story. The few similarities are these. He said that he was reminded of Alice in Wonderland when he read the story, and Alice in Wonderland did come to my own mind while writing the story. He also said that the portions where there is dialogue and interaction between the characters, "brings the story to life" (to paraphrase his comment; I think he said that these sections made him more aware of the "reality" of the characters, gave a feel for the flesh and blood-again, paraphrasing; I can't remember his exact words). fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionMon, 15 Feb 2010 13:28:20 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/AnalysisIrresistibleTemptation.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingIrresistibleTemptation.phpThis story just sort of wrote itself. I simply began writing, not knowing where I was going, or whether my words would, indeed, turn into a piece of writing. The old man at the gate delivered his one short comment and then the simple outline came to me: me entering the garden and it turning out to be a lifetime's trial consisting of all the usual trails that make up a life that is not too happy or fulfilled; in short, the experience that many people seem to have of life. I completed the story the following day, then edited it a few days later. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionTue, 2 Feb 2010 23:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingIrresistibleTemptation.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/IrresistibleTemptation.phpAt the age of twenty-four, I met an old man whose eyes were burdened with woe. He stood beside a gateway in a high hedge which was of no interest to me. The man was of even less interest to me until I heard his voice. It stopped me in my tracks, as when a forgotten nightmare is suddenly and vividly recalled. He said, "Whatever you do, don't go in there," nodding towards the yawning gateway beside him. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Short storyTue, 2 Feb 2010 19:49:52 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/IrresistibleTemptation.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/reviewofMCMountain.phpYou usually get what you pay for, and MC Mountain is a budget-priced hotel, so your expectations should not be too high. However, in this case, you may need to lower your expectations even further. I had arranged for their "shuttle service" to meet us at the airport and transport us to MC Mountain. I was told that the driver would be there waiting for me holding a banner with my name on. However, when I exited from the airport, the driver was nowhere to be seen, which caused me considerable difficulties. It was past midnight and I had no local currency (due to a cock-up in the UK with my travel money); the airline had lost my baggage, and I had no phone (I was relying on a Philippine SIM which had been sent to me, but did not work). fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingSat, 30 Jan 2010 14:26:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/reviewofMCMountain.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/symptomsleftbehindlikeconfetti.phpLast night I walked into the treatment room at the Buddhist Healing Rooms clinic, and I felt a dreadful pain on my left GB30 acupoint, and the pain was descending down the left leg. When I felt that, I knew that this sensation had been left in the room either by the last practitioner who had been working there a few minutes before, or by one of the patients that she was treating. I walked into the kitchen, which also doubles as a waiting room, and I noticed a new book lying on the table there, 1000 Meditations. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Chinese MedicineWed, 27 Jan 2010 12:12:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/symptomsleftbehindlikeconfetti.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/cloudformationscropcircles.phpThe short "hop" from Amsterdam to Bristol seemed to take about fifty minutes and I was mesmerized. For the first time, I had a window seat and it was mid-morning, so the spectacle below could not have been more clear. First I was mesmerized by the cloud formations (which I enjoyed between mouthfuls of my delicious ham rolls and Danish pastries which I'd purloined form the Holiday Inn. And then through the clouds, a snow-covered England started to appear: fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingThu, 7 Jan 2010 18:08:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/cloudformationscropcircles.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/14hoursinamsterdam.phpI'm currently awaiting my departure at Amsterdam airport. I should have departed last night at about 8pm, but the flight was cancelled due to the snow at Bristol airport, and I'm now booked on a flight to Bristol which is due to leave at 10.30am today. I might be coming down with a cold. After the ten hour flight from Beijing yesterday, KLM offered me a hotel for the night, including meals, which was a nice surprise. But the hotel shuttle service was out of service due to the snow in Amsterdam. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingThu, 7 Jan 2010 16:02:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/14hoursinamsterdam.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/24hoursinbeijing.phpLeaving Manila behind was like travelling from summer to mid winter in the space of five hours. I'd been used to daytime temperatures in the mid-twenties Celsius and often above, and while beginning the descent into Beijing we were told that the outside temperature was minus thirteen Celsius. On the shuttle bus from the plane to Terminal Two there were several Filipinos dressed in tee-shirts, gazing in awe (and with some trepidation) at the snow-covered expanse of Beijing airport. On the inward bound flight I was also struck by this. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingTue, 5 Jan 2010 16:05:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/24hoursinbeijing.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/steppingbackintime.phpFrom our balcony, we could see many fields devoted to agriculture. What's striking though, is that all the farmers were still using animals to plough their land. This situation makes all the more striking the gap between the Philippine families who are living at the lower end of the economical scale and those who can afford to shop in the supermarkets that farming families such as the above would never think of even setting foot in, so far out of their reach would be even the most basic essentials, such as a loaf of bread or a packet of rice. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingSun, 3 Jan 2010 14:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/steppingbackintime.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/mounttalipuso.phpEach morning, while breakfasting on our balcony, we looked out on a distant mountain. After a few days, this mountain started to call out to me; I began to feel that I had to visit it. In a local store, I managed to find a fairly detailed map of Tagaytay and the surrounding area (Cavite), which was not easy to find; while doing my research before the trip, it seemed that detailed maps of this area did not exist. I opened out the map onto our balcony table, and directly North of the guest house was listed Mount Talipuso. I seemed that this must be the name of that mountain that had been calling out to me for so many days. On the map, it seemed to be only about thirty minutes drive. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingThu, 31 Dec 2009 23:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/mounttalipuso.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/jeepneysthebackboneofpublictransport.phpJeepneys, it is said, can only be seen in the Philippines. They are mostly in a state of disrepair (even with headlights and rear lights not working, which is a common sight in the Philippines, on other vehicles too). On one particular rainy day, I was struck by our driver's manual operation of his windscreen wiper. There was no motor attached to the wiper (it had presumably fallen off some time previously), but instead there was a handle protruding through the top of the windscreen (which handle looked like a bent wire coat hanger), and every minute or so, the driver would manually twist this improvised handle to operate his single wiper blade to clear his windscreen. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingTue, 29 Dec 2009 09:18:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/jeepneysthebackboneofpublictransport.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/typicaltagaytaystreetscenes.phpMy first impressions of Tagaytay, and indeed of the Philippines, during daylight was of the main highway through Tagaytay. To my Western eyes, I could only see poverty everywhere. The streets were lined with shops, most of which consisted of not much more than tin shacks. I guess these streets were typical of a third world country, but as a Westerner, I had only previously been used to cleanly Tarmaced streets, pavements bounding all roads (in the Philippines, almost no roads, streets, or highways have pavements; I guess the budget does not stretch to providing pavements; pedestrians walk on the dry, dusty earth at the edges of the roads), and I was used to seeing concrete and brick-built houses, offices, and... fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingThu, 24 Dec 2009 23:56:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/typicaltagaytaystreetscenes.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/ajarofpastasaucecosts.phpIn the whole of Tagaytay, there is a single supermarket, a branch of Robinsons, which is probably the largest supermarket chain in the Philippines. I was puzzled by the prices. When converting the peso prices to GB pounds, the prices all seemed to be either equivalent to the prices I would pay in a UK supermarket, or in some cases even more expensive. But what's puzzling about this is that the average Filipino earns around 18 times less the income that a low paid British worker might earn, and many Filipinos earn much less than this. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingThu, 24 Dec 2009 08:15:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/ajarofpastasaucecosts.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/welcometomanila.phpIt started snowing in Amsterdam and by the time we reached Beijing it was minus three Celsius with a biting wind blowing. We boarded the plane in Amsterdam and then sat at the terminal for over an hour, burdened with some technical problem. By the time we were ready to leave, a layer of ice and snow had built up on the wings. We taxied to another area to allow the wings to be hosed down with steaming water. We set off one-and-a-half hours late and arrived in Beijing and, late for our connecting flight, a panicky official rushed us through the airport bureaucracy (of which there was plenty, tended by an army of officials, each with their set of rules which must be strictly adhered to, with forms filled out in triplicate; this was China, where everyone did as they were told... fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Travel writingSat, 19 Dec 2009 11:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/welcometomanila.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/anewversionofWhimperingBeach.phpI've produced a new draft of my story: The Whimpering Beach. As I mentioned before, the story did not seem like a satisfying piece of fiction, so after thinking more about it, I've made the following additions: There is a whole new element, or new layer, added, to do with media fear-mongering, which, in the story implies a similarity between this type of fearfulness, and some aspects of romance; indeed, there is even an implied parallel between acts of terroism and some aspects of the process of falling in love. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionMon, 14 Dec 2009 20:05:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/anewversionofWhimperingBeach.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/eyepaincommunicatedbyphone.phpYesterday, I was phoned by one of my patients to cancel a session. When I put the phone down, I realized that I had adopted a pain over my left eye, which was reflecting her energy; she has a long history of migraines. I'm so familiar with this process now, that there was no doubt in my mind that the pain I felt was hers; it was not a pain that I would normally experience, and I'm now so used to my body reflecting the symptoms of patients that I'm treating that there was no doubt that my body was reflecting the energy of this patient who had phoned me. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Chinese MedicineThu, 10 Dec 2009 14:16:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/eyepaincommunicatedbyphone.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingDanielandtheWineStain.phpMy comments on writing Daniel and the Wine Stain: Now that it's finished, I find that when I read it back, I'm not sure what I think about this work. It starts off well, but then, when it becomes clear what the content of the story is, I find myself wondering whether people will be interested in reading such content, whether it is appropriate for a work of fiction; yet, I find that I am drawn in and cannot stop reading. I feel that the story certainly is powerful and the story-telling seems competent. I am pleased with the work technically. The main drama seems to come from the collision of these two tormented characters, who, perhaps, both seem mad, and yet are both also recognisable... fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionTue, 8 Dec 2009 02:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingDanielandtheWineStain.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/DanielWineStain.phpFour weeks ago, Daniel began working as a junior officer in the Human Resources department of Stoke City Council. It was his first job. Gail Harris sat opposite him and seemed to be the source of the office's sunlight-for an intangible energy seemed to radiate from her and warm the atmosphere for a fifteen yard radius. Gail was twenty four and always wore bright colours-with lipstick to match, which on her seemed to work, since she also wore a glowing, child-like complexion which gave her the appearance of an eight-year-old girl who was forever emerging from her mother's bedroom modelling an experimental selection from her mother's wardrobe and makeup box. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Short storyMon, 7 Dec 2009 12:15:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/DanielWineStain.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/ChoosingRightDrinks.phpClemency was a fat girl. She spent her time caring for others, for she had nothing else to do. She was twenty-six years of age and she would frequently hide in the linen cupboard at work so that she could cry for two minutes and then recompose herself before picking up a clean towel and exiting the cupboard behind a convincing smile of contentment. Sister Mary, the ward sister at Saint Vincent's Hospice, marvelled that Clemency would always so quickly volunteer to make these trips to the linen cupboard, only to return each time with that enviable expression of satisfaction which Sister Mary had come to secretly loath. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Short storyFri, 6 Nov 2009 21:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/ChoosingRightDrinks.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingChoosingtheRightDrinks.phpMy comments on the first version of Choosing the Right Drinks. (See below for my notes on the final version.) Four months after completing the first version of this story, I've looked at it again and polished out a few blemishes that I could not live with, but by and large, it's the same story as the first completed draft. I received some comments on the story from the editor of Chapman magazine. She said: This story is well written-with style and confidence and reads easily, speaking clearly to the reader. I'm sure it deserves publication. For me, however, it's not enough of a story... fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionFri, 6 Nov 2009 14:15:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingChoosingtheRightDrinks.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingTheWhimperingBeach.phpMy notes on writing The Whimpering Beach: When I first completed this work, I wasn't sure that it was of any value. The problem was that there didn't seem to be any substance to it. In the first draft, the story was left with a happy ending, but then I added the last two paragraphs which made the story seem much more realistic, and then I started to feel that perhaps the story was ok. When I again read it back a few days later, I could see the strengths and weakness more objectively. To me, the story still seems "lightweight", but diverting. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionTue, 27 Oct 2009 18:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/writingTheWhimperingBeach.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/WhimperingBeach.phpPerhaps a necessary part of an adventure is an element of danger. Perhaps without that element, there can be no adventure. The "news" is an assault on my sense of safety. I am told of invisible "bugs" that want to harm me, of the diseased pound, the depressed economy, the impending floods, the risk of being penetrated by en eloquent youth's cutting satire; or an errant youth's thrusting blade-Do not, whatever you do, go out after dark. And this is all in my own country, in my own home town. This is not freedom. Here, I am in prison, and the guards at my door are called Fear. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Short storyTue, 27 Oct 2009 14:02:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/WhimperingBeach.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/whydoesreadingpulsemakemebelch.phpFor a few years now, I have had this slightly embarrassing reaction to reading a patient's pulses. At first it only happened now and then, perhaps with every third patient, or so. But now it happens with almost every one. I will place my fingers on the patient's wrist to read the pulses of each of their main organs. With each patient, when I get to a particular organ, it makes me belch. And what's more strange, is that it is a different quality belch with each patient. The belch originates in a different part of my chest, and the quality also varies. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Chinese MedicineThu, 24 Sep 2009 12:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/whydoesreadingpulsemakemebelch.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/theseasonalbodyclock.phpYesterday, my body felt like it was making its seasonal adjustment. People don't realize how closely our bodies are attuned to nature and the seasons. When my own body adjusts to the incoming season, this seems to happen over a one or two day period. My energy suddenly falls to about half its usual level, and then on the following day, I feel great, but different in some way. It's as though my body is in a different mode. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Chinese MedicineSun, 20 Sep 2009 20:05:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/theseasonalbodyclock.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/aburgeoningindustryinthePhilippines.phpMy friend Ricky, a Filipino guy with character and integrity (of which I'm sure there are many), was telling me of some of the exploits of his close friends, partly for gossip purposes, but also, perhaps, as a precautionary tale. One of his best friends, Adrian, has bad debts amongst all the neighbours in their village; he is well known for his talent of spending other people's money. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)People: fact is stranger than fictionThu, 17 Sep 2009 20:23:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/aburgeoningindustryinthePhilippines.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/moneywithmynameon.phpTwo weeks ago, a patient paid me for her acupuncture session with four ten pound notes. She laid them on the side table. When I looked down at them, I saw that she had written "Fletch" across the face of the top note. I said something like, "Ah, you've allotted that money for me." I looked closer at the note and saw that my full first name was written clearly across it: "Fletcher." She looked at me, puzzled. I said did you put this money aside for me and write my name on it. She looked at the notes, amazed, and said "No, I didn't write that on there." fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Chinese MedicineTue, 15 Sep 2009 12:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/moneywithmynameon.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingSamuelPamsSalvation.phpI've looked again at this short story. It was completed over a year ago now, so I was able to look at is with fresh eyes; indeed, I had forgotten a lot of the content. Apart from some minor changes here and there, the main changes I made were to the sexual comments. I've replaced the more direct ones with innuendo comments, since, in this context, they seem much more funny and more appropriate. I received some feedback from a reader who made a comment about them. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Notes on writing fictionThu, 20 Aug 2009 12:00:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/sketchbook/editingSamuelPamsSalvation.phphttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/BeckoningPrecipice.phpJohn Baker could never decide when to commit suicide. Up until three days ago, the only thing that had stopped him was the lack of opportunity. But now he had engineered the opportunity. John was a doctor who worked in general practice. His surgery was in Clifton Village, only ten minutes walk from his home. But last week he told his wife he would be working in a surgery in Bristol for one week. Each morning this week he had then slipped a pair of wire cutters into his coat pocket and set off for work one hour early, driven into Bristol, crossed the River Avon and driven back up the hill on the opposite side of the river to park his car near Clifton Suspension Bridge. fletcher@curiouspages.com (Fletcher Kovich)Short storyMon, 30 Mar 2009 14:32:00 GMThttp://www.curiouspages.com/fiction/BeckoningPrecipice.php