The New, New Normal.

“In case its passed anyone by,” Professor of Psychology Daniel Moccasin said, as he tapped the knuckles of his left hand against the wall-mounted presentation screen-still displayed in front of the small class, “things have changed. And by this, I mean things have changed again. We now face a new, new normal. One that no one could have predicted, not even if they’d had a crystal ball could they have done so, no…” He paused and looked around at the clueless expressions tied to the front of each student’s face. A hand went up, emerging confidently from the back row of the classroom. “Yes, Butterley, isn’t it? Stand up, what have you got to say for yourself?”

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CoMiNG SooN: aN iNterView wiTh aN arTisT

Shortly re-tune-in and come back soon, not waste too much time to find out more, about this magnificence from a lowly background, in this openly revealing, world premiere interview especially rearranged for orchestra by Brinkinfield. What follows in the form of an excerpt, is a teaser trailer type of thing.

Brinkinfield: We’ve worked together for nearly over five years now, you’ve contributed all the artwork for all my writing since then apart from once, when we fell out. Over all that duration of time, I don’t believe that I’ve ever read an actual interview with you.
Can you explain to your fans, where exactly, your inspiration origins?

pedrov_dog: Well, first-off, hello to everyone, it’s a pleasure to be here within such palatial surroundings. And secondly-off, that’s a very good question.

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Natural Blue

1.
If you take a jolly good look around – and I mean a rootin’-tootin’ jolly good look around, there aren’t many women in the world with naturally blue hair. Very, very, few, as evidenced by the facts. Hair scientists say this rare phenomena occurs due to a specific genetic defect caught unawares, buried deep, about halfway down within the spiral structure of our DNA.

Conversely, as a committed appreciator, I say naturally blue hair is the eighth wonder of the world, a biological miracle, invoking a sense of much awesomeness. No less, I say, than a heavenly blessing from God’s can’t-leave-it-alone tinkering fingers. Still, to this very day, I can recall in reasonable-to-fair detail, the circumstances as a young teen, when I saw my very first one.

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When Life Plays Out Like a Roy Andersson Film

Folding clean clothes
in a front-facing bedroom, now spare
through the window listless I stare

Until I spy
riding high
upon a small bicycle

This pink-faced giant of a white-haired old man
stopped with his pedalling
a’coasting and a’buzzing

Leaning into a sharp loop
he pulls up outside the tavern
attempts a quick and clean dismount

Nay! Something’s amiss!
Something goes wrong
he’s caught up in the waver of a mid-air kiss

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D1D2

We met at the exotic Le Jardin Tropicana beach resort, on the island of Guadeloupe. It was love at first-sight for me seeing Danny there, sat on the grass giving his money away. I mean, he was literally throwing it up into the air for anyone to catch and keep. Our meeting on that day had seemed fated. You see, my name’s Danni too, now how about that!

Of course, I already had a boyfriend, one much closer to my own age. Danny is my age times two-and-a-half. Yes, I know, totally mad! Anyway, I had to think of an excuse pretty smartish to break up with Roberto. We’d only been together for three weeks, first meeting on the plane and in the airport, then sharing a taxi to here.

Italian, tall, blonde and handsome, it turns out Roberto is an amazing dancer, but an extreme disappointment between the sheets. I’ll spare you the details, as far as to say he is very fast out of the blocks. Within minutes of meeting Danny, I’d sent Roberto a brief text explaining that it’d been nice and thanks, however I’d met someone new. I imagined there would be some sadness at the disco tonight.

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Katie and Bradley

Katie’s story:
“After we kissed for the very first time, I felt a little lighter, less blue than before. It was the first French kiss I’d ever experienced and admit, it’d seemed rather novel, leaving me feeling somewhat mysteriously stirred and happily bemused.”
Katie giggles.

Bradley’s story:
“When she agreed to a date, I determined in my mind that should she give consent, I would kiss her with my speciality, slow-repeater tongue-tip poke, kiss technique. I already knew it as a winner, with all the other girls I’d tried it on.”
Bradley beams.

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The Marshland Influencer

1.
Late evening, on the edge of a remote field located in Middle-England, three score and ten years forward of this day, two romantics made preparation for a starkly different kind of date, to the usual.
Charlotte lifted out a fat gun from a portable case they’d brought along with them and handed it to her lover.
“Actually, it’s not as heavy as it looks!” Chris said.
“That’s right, it’s mostly hollow in construction.” Charlotte replied, knowledgeably. “Here, let me help with the cartridge, then you can do the honours.”
The crescent moon and clustering Milky Way stars spread across the cloudless night sky, providing adequate light to assist with prompt loading of the firearm.
There,” she said, cocking the mechanism, “you’re good-to-go.”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Chris tested the weight with a loose grip, peering at the gun inquisitively. As he rolled it back and forth through a one-hundred-and-eighty degree arc, Charlotte studied Chris, unsure if his question had been a serious one or not.
“Yes darling,” she said, taking a firm hold of his arm, “especially if you point like so, up in this direction.” From her pockets, she produced four foam earplugs and gently inserted them, first in Chris’s and then her own ears.
“It doesn’t make too loud a bang,” she said, her voice raised by five decibels, “it’s not like a starter’s pistol. But, safety-first, just in case. We don’t want to go down in history as the first couple to lose our hearing, in such a manner.”
“In case of a malfunction, you mean?” Chris asked.
“Exactly so.”

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