Tuesday 9 July 2013

Snail delivery

I've based myself in the Snail Cafe in Racozci Square. Always sitting at the same table under a weirdly skewed painting that bears a remarkable resemblance to Otto Dix's 1920 Skat Players. I'm waiting for Diogenes to return from a one-week trip to Lake Balaton so I can finally get my hands on that mysterious delivery from Thailand. 

Fuelled by copious amounts of cold beer and rich goulash, I've kept myself busy creating two new blogs. One is devoted to Shadows and all things 'meddlesome' and the other to my one hand clapping novels, including Zen Ambulance (now going through another draft and almost ready). The two blogs will hopefully give my readers an interesting insight into the many things I've put into my books. Everything from poems, sources, memorable quotes, references to films and TV, music and where to find the real-life locations behind the places that appear in the stories.  

Suddenly I get a tap on the elbow. I turn around. My friend Diogenes is standing there in his bright orange overalls. Naturally he's carrying a very large plastic dinosaur with a zip running the length of its stomach.
     "You're back," I say.
     "Yeah, just in," he replies. "Any chance of a beer?"
     I order one in for him.
     "At the risk of sounding dense, why are you carrying a giant plastic dinosaur?" I ask him.
     "Actually, it's not a dinosaur but a Thai water dragon - I can't even begin to pronounce it in Latin so don't ask. Her name is Claudette."
     "OK but why on earth have you brought her here?" 
     But the beer arrives, Diogenes sits down with the dragon on his lap and gets stuck in. I have to wait for an answer. Finally, he wipes the froth from his beard. Then he looks around the cafe and, satisfied no one else is watching, picks up Claudette and unfastens her zip. He puts his hand gently inside her stomach.
     "I've got the key to your special delivery from Thailand," he whispers.