When the mob came for the priest

It was the cat that awoke me. I started from my wicker seat, the one that my parents had bought me when I left the seminary. I was startled awake from my siesta, and my prayer book fell from my lap, and my glasses with it. I blinked at the broken spectacles. I scrabbled at the frames in fury, and only managed to cut my hand on the thick, broken glass. The welling blood on Continue reading When the mob came for the priest

Stories of the Argar (4)

Many years ago, long before I was born, my father was a warrior of the tribe. He was, by all accounts, a great man, and so when the Kings of La Bastida declared war on the meseteros, and warriors from every Argar tribe were sent to form a great Army, the greatest ever seen, my father was chosen to represent our village of Gatas as its champion. La Bastida is the great city on the Continue reading Stories of the Argar (4)

Stories of the Argar (3)

Fran, the boy who assisted Pretzl in his daily duties, came rushing up to where we stood. Charl had called his warriors together, and was issuing orders for them to search the village for anything unusual before they left. I don´t know why I was with them, only that I had followed Charl and somehow seemed to be included into the conversation. Charl turned to speak to the boy. “Yes Fran?” he asked. “Sir, Master Continue reading Stories of the Argar (3)

Stories of the Argar (2)

Our home is a hill top half way up a large mountain range. These mountains give us what we need, but they are not generous. We must work the mountains, and the magic that gives us the power to control the mountains is water. There is precious little water here in the Cabreras. We have been blessed with springs. Old Pretzl lectures us that whilst we are strong, our village productive, the Sun shall give Continue reading Stories of the Argar (2)

Stories of the Argar (1)

Almost four thousand years ago, Almería hosted the most advanced bronze age civilisation Europe would ever know. Above Turre, they had a village and a mine (now known as Gatas). I have sat amongst their graves, up in the mountains, and watched the tortoises play amongst their graves whilst I sat and thought. This civilisation, known as the El Argar, were in constant war with the meseteros, those of the Meseta, further inland. A civilisation Continue reading Stories of the Argar (1)

The Hoopoe revenge

Tonight, then, would be the night. The Moon set against her sect, invisible tonight. Tonight would be the night. The sack bulged. Above, Saint Lorenzo cried his tears, pointing his invisible way towards the Holy Grail. That trail would have to wait for another night. I set out. The road was gritty, illuminated by the base lights of a base town. The gravel on the tarmac slipped underneath me; my sack bulged and I slipped. Continue reading The Hoopoe revenge

A night above Turre

Sorry, I spent the lockdown reading the collected works of HP Lovecraft and got carried away. David, August 2020, shortly before he was never heard from again – spell from Clem 849. Tonight was a night of music, not magic. Yet the full moon floated overhead. Silence, cut only by distant lorries and the sudden scream of a vixen. I put on my earphones and staggered through the night. The dead rosemary whipped at my Continue reading A night above Turre

Madrid caught out lying over report into epidemiological report

In the middle of a fuss about whether or not Spain should allow an independent report into its handling of the pandemic and lockdown (the government says now is not the time, several large independent Spanish scientific organisations say it is), Madrid region has been caught in a blatant lie over the number of asymptomatic carriers of Covid it has detected A report dated August 4th published on the official Madrid Health website has been Continue reading Madrid caught out lying over report into epidemiological report

The bloke who killed a moonfish in Roquetas by pulling it out of the water and sitting on it will not face any worse than a small fine.

Although fish rights organisation Equinac has filed a criminal complaint, the Guardia Civil said that it’s not illegal to kill fish by sitting on them, any more than it is illegal to kill fish by smacking them against a rock when you catch them (he gets done under a procedimiento administrativo sancionador, if you understand Spanish law). The moonfish is not endangered, and as such is not protected by law. Nor is it a domestic Continue reading The bloke who killed a moonfish in Roquetas by pulling it out of the water and sitting on it will not face any worse than a small fine.