sparrow study 9

sparrow study 8

sparrow study 7

sparrow study 6

sparrow study 5

sparrow study 4

sparrow study 3

sparrow study 2

sparrow study 1

A house fell down today.

Mr Hillk fell down today.

All of the lights fell down today.

The rain fell down today.

windowless study LXXXIX

The ghosts of the fish appeared in the pond this morning. They were all blue and beautiful. Clef took one look at them and lost all sense of reason. He drowned himself in that very same pond. The ghosts of the fish carried him to another place, one with even more ghosts of fish and other things besides I imagine. The pond was empty once more, except for Clef’s bloated body – a smile on his lost little face.

windowless study LXXXVIII

A dog choked on a pigeon. The pigeon survived but the dog wasn't so lucky.

windowless study LXXXVII

Mr Fink painted his doorstep blue today. Apart from that, not much else happened. Pretty uneventful. Still worth writing about though.

windowless study LXXXVI

The whole village dreamt about vampires last night. Every dream was different but...still pretty creepy nonetheless.

windowless study LXXXV

The wolf bit the dust today, all slow and miserable like.

This is how it came about:

Illk the butcher gave him a bone.

‘Look at this bone,’ said Illk.

‘What about it?’ asked the wolf.

‘It’s a bone.’

‘I can see that. You want a medal or something?’

‘Eat it!’

‘No. I’m a wolf.’

‘Eat the bone anyway. You look stupid eating rocks all the time.’

‘I ate a baby.’

‘That was an accident. Eat the bone.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Listen here!’ said Illk, losing his rag. ‘Eat this bone and I’ll close my shop to go out and find you seventeen of the biggest stones you ever saw.’

‘Grey ones?’

‘Grey ones.’

‘Okay. Give me the damn bone.’

He swallowed the bone in one. And that’s how the wolf died.

windowless study LXXXIV

An angel turned up on Mr Stok’s doorstep today. It’s damn near impossible to understand him, being an angel and all, so Thomsic Shotskin was drafted in. According to Thomsic, the angel knows Mr Stok from way back. The angel said he had nowhere to stay so he’s gonna stay with Mr Stok for a while. Mr Stok told the angel to get lost. In response the angel killed one of Mr Stok’s cats just by stroking her. So, to cut a long story short, the angel is going to crash at Mr Stok’s house for the foreseeable future. The old man isn’t too chuffed but he’s decided to keep schtum, only slagging him off when the angel was in the shower.

windowless study LXXXIII

I was awoken today by a humming sound: a low guttural drone, something like a lawnmower trapped inside a teapot. On closer inspection I discovered the sound to be coming from dead Mr Silt’s house. A crowd was gathered outside. Mr Silt’s ghost was outside too but he was indifferent to the whole affair, instead staring intently into Mr Aw’s empty fishpond. Then someone mentioned something about sparrows. I looked up to find the sparrows had all turned from a regular sparrow colour to light blue. They were still huddled together and trying their best to imitate dead Mr Silt’s roof but, being blue and all, their act was a lot less convincing. They blended almost perfectly with the clear morning sky: so much so that the mysterious door, now a bright red colour, gave the impression it was floating.

Mr Felt threw a brick at the sparrows. A cry of agony rang out and a sparrow fell from the roof. Upon impact with the grass it changed back to its original brownish sparrow colour. Mr Felt suddenly began complaining about his ears and went home to lie down and bleed a little. When he awoke soon after he was as deaf as a post.

The humming still hasn’t ceased.

windowless study LXXXII

Carmichael returned today. He descended the 50, 000 steps and opened the door into dead Mr Silt’s roof…

…and then nothing.

An hour later Carmichael still hadn’t shown his crazy mush so Mr Crick tried knocking on dead Mr Silt’s front door. No answer. The house was completely silent. The spaces where Mr Silt’s stolen windows used to be were now filled with a thick layer of (opposite of transparent) blue smoke.

‘Where the hell did that blue smoke come from?’ asked somebody who has no real relevance on today’s events other than this inane question and so we won’t even bother mentioning his name*.

Mr Wishaw tried to touch the blue smoke and within about seven minutes all of his hair had fallen out. It was at this point that the ghost of Mr Silt pointed at the roof and said the word sparrows three times and sure enough, there on dead Mr Silt’s roof, were about four million sparrows, all huddled together to create a new form of roof consisting entirely of huddling sparrows.

‘Where the hell did all those sparrows come from?’ asked *

The sparrows just sat there, quite happy to be thought of as dead Mr Silt’s roof.

Another Tuesday.

(* Tim)