Arun’s Comments (group member since Jun 07, 2015)

Arun’s comments from the Amazon Kindle Prime Readers & KDP Select Authors group.

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Hi

Just to let you know that the book 'Dictatorship to Democracy' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle/PC download from Wednesday 22nd March to Saturday 25th March 2017. Please fell free to pass this on to your friends.
First published in 'Corpalism'.

A smorgasbord of a book portraying many facets of modern British life. The Independents are a new force in politics; free of any lobby group, party bias, or corporate interest, they are determined to change the face of the political scene. This puts them on a headlong collision course with the Establishment.

Combine this with a terror plot, the exploits of a young dysfunctional couple, the struggles of a mature family living with change and you have the ingredients of an all-round good read.

Extract below:

The Independents - What price democracy?


The meeting organiser approached the rostrum, he paused and waited for the cheering to stop, and then he spoke, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this, the very first meeting of the Independent candidates. It’s wonderful to see so many of you here in one place. We’ve selected a few people to speak with you today from the hundreds of offers we had …for those of you disappointed this time, we have a list for our next meeting and gradually we hope to give everyone who wants to speak a platform.”

The applause rose again as he gestured to a slightly built, sandy-haired man standing to the side. “Now, please give a rousing welcome to the man who started it all, our inspirational mentor and guide… Colin Carpenter.”

The delegates rose as one and cheered and clapped as the man moved confidently to the centre of the stage and took up position behind the rostrum. As he did so a single file of people walked on stage and sat in the row of chairs behind him.

“Thank you, Chris, for that introduction.” Colin said, beaming, the lights glinting off his glasses, “It’s been a long hard struggle but now we’re here, a visible force to be reckoned with, so…” There were more cheers from the hall. “WELCOME,” he shouted raising both arms, “today is the day we begin to change everything. Today we lay down the marker whereby we reclaim our country, reclaim our world, today is the day we start the new era of real rule of the people, by the people and for the people.”

There were more cheers and scatterings of delegates stood to applaud him; then more followed until the whole assembly was on its feet.

“No longer will we tolerate a corrupt, locked in party system; no longer will we tolerate their machinations, their duplicity, their constant deceptions, and their fake party divisions. We know they’re all the same, that they represent the same hidden wealthy few who own this country, we know they all rub shoulders with this clique of scoundrels and that they pander to their every whim. We will resist, we will stand against these corrupt servants of the rich and we will win.”

There were shouts of ‘win’ from the floor. Colin gestured that they should sit as he prepared to begin his speech proper. He waited a few moments until all were seated and the hall was quiet.

“I set out on this trail barely a year ago, not knowing where it would lead. Like many of you, I watched the Occupy movement in its struggle to take back control from those who hold us in thrall. I admit it, I watched rather than joined them; I supported them in spirit.” He paused, “I tried to make a stand by myself. I tried to keep my business going; I was trading on fumes. I cut costs and used inferior materials, I streamlined processes until there was no slack, I had to lay off staff who’d been with me for years and make the ones I kept work a 3 day week. We missed deadlines and our quality dropped – in the end I closed it down. Rather than be associated with what we were being forced to produce, rather than re-locate to China and do what my competitors had done – take advantage of slave labour in the East, rather than sacrifice my principles, I closed down the business I had started from scratch 10 years ago.”

He stopped talking, leaving a gap as if mourning a lost dream then he spoke again, quietly but with deep passion, “I was deeply unhappy and desperate to do something to make these rogues realise and stop what they were doing; it was something that seared into me until I could stand it no longer. I spent hours thinking about what I could do; without a revolution I couldn’t see anything changing. Then it hit me – I could ‘occupy’ the Political Space! I could stand on an ethical platform as an independent at the next general election.”

He looked slowly round the hall, making eye contact where he could. “I am a loyal Briton, my lineage reaches into all corners of these great islands of ours and I have always loved this country and all it has stood for. I love its people and our culture. I can no longer sit idly by whilst the greedy rich dismantle it, whilst they remove all investment from the UK and place that investment in areas of the world where they use slave labour, I will not tolerate it.”

There were shouts of support from the floor and again people were standing in their excitement.

“It is intolerable that the uncontrolled greed of the few should impact so heavily on the many. It is unacceptable that the political jackals should spin their concoction of lies to justify their plans to run down the state of Britain. It is deplorable that they should think themselves free to consign workers of the west to destitution whilst enslaving the workers of the 3rd world. It is unacceptable that they seek to return us to the same conditions as existed in the Middle Ages, a time when the rich elite was served by destitute serfs. They must think we don’t have a thought in our heads.” There was a rapturous round of applause. Colin grinned and added, “They must think we’re STUPID!”

The applause continued, accompanied now by excitable foot stamping.

“They clearly believe that the years of watching junk TV, of listening to their constant lies about the economy, about economics, the GDP, the unions, the balance of payments, the national debt, the so called ‘scrounging poor’, the so called ‘benefit cheats’, the communists, the NHS, the welfare state, state run education, Muslims, world terrorism, our lack of productivity and competitiveness, has shrivelled our brains and blinded us to the real truth, the reality behind all this.” He paused, took a breath then thundered out, “We, the masses, are being sold out by rich greedy psychopaths.”

More clapping from the floor.

“There is a precedent for all this but they hope we’re too stupid to see it, that we have no knowledge of history, that we’re so wrapped up in ‘reality’ TV that we miss what is happening, miss the correlation with the past.”

He poured some water from the jug on the table before him, allowing a few moments for his words to sink in, “The Roman Empire which for centuries was the dominant power, had legions that controlled vast territories of the known world, and then we’re told, all of a sudden, Rome collapses.”

He paused, then raised his voice slightly, “I say to you, Rome didn’t collapse, Rome did not fall – the wealthy and powerful families of Rome took advantage of prevailing winds and reorganised.”

He glanced out across the hall, checking the attention of the audience, “They recognised that maintaining legions to hold territories was costly, and they had a new weapon in their arsenal - religion. Caesar became the Pope, the leading families entered religion, the Roman Empire transitioned into the Roman Catholic Church collecting more revenues than a thousand legions could gather. That’s what happened to the Roman Empire, that’s what happened to Rome.”

He banged the table abruptly, startling a few people in the front rows, “But what happened to the ordinary people of Rome, to the plebeians, the out of work soldiers? They were reduced to penury as the Rome they knew disappeared from the map. As they starved, these legions that had made Rome great, the wealthy Romans, the patricians, the upper classes became richer than ever and the Pope found he was able to control the whole world with a few monks and threats of excommunication, of burning in hell for all eternity.”

He paused and took a quick sip of water, he knew that making the link was vital and these concepts were new to most of his audience.

“And that is what is happening to us…though it’s not belief in God that’s the new export, the new method of raising gold for the new aristocracy, the new export is a new religion altogether, and is called ‘consumerism’ or the ‘market’. The rich have exported our jobs to the 3rd world where wages are minimal, where land costs are minimal, where there are autocratic leaders and armies willing to crush the workers who ask for more, where there are billions of potential economic slaves to serve them and gain them even greater wealth.”
Someone in the crowd called out ‘Apple’ and a couple of others picked it up.

He nodded, “A good example, thank you” he said quietly, then raising his voice continued, “There’re one million people employed in sweat shop factories in China producing Apple products…think about it, one million jobs that could’ve been situated in the West but for the fact of having to pay minimum wage and provide decent working conditions.”

He stopped and stared out at the crowded hall, his eyes burning, “Wealth, that’s what this is all about, it’s what it’s always been about, the creation of wealth for the very few, for the greedy psychopaths who want to own everything and drive the masses into the gutters so that they can lord it over them; in order to feel rich they have to have the poor.”

Colin studied his audience, “So what of the British worker? What of the US worker? What is intended for us? In the recent past we had service industry jobs, easily accessed credit and the creation of massive debt, all this was done to ensure a smooth transition from production and purchase from the West to the East. It was no accident; it’s part of a plan and exactly what they intended and so far they have been successful. They have managed to transfer most of production from the West to the East and during that time the Western worker had artificial service industry jobs to ensure that there was still a market for products being made in the East. However, we have reached an end of the first phase - the credit bubble in the West has burst, the western worker is no longer able to provide the buying power required to maintain supply and demand so the wealthy few and their economic and political servants are looking to provide easier credit to the worker in the East, where there is a potential new market for debt.” ...................

Happy reading, hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

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Hi

Just to let you know that the book 'The Cull' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle/PC download from Thursday 16th March to Monday 20th March 2017. Please fell free to pass this on to your friends.

With the world's oil supplies running out can the wealthy elites pull off a reduction in the world's population in one engineered mega disaster? Who can stop them? Who would even know to

Sample below:
Prologue

For Sir Digby Chalfont, a connoisseur, of all the women in the group, one stood out. She was tall, with impeccably cut, gleaming bronze hair.

He noted the Givenchy Pandora box bag slung over the shoulder of her black crepe trouser suit, a Tyrwhitt, if he was not mistaken, and the raspberry shirt that softened the aquiline face was certainly an Emilio Pucci. He imagined a crop twitching against her Eleonaro black riding boots; the thought causing him to smile as he homed in. He had no idea of her standing in the group, although the clothes gave a hint to her status. He cared little; she was the most attractive person in the room and he intended to make himself known to her; his newly acquired knighthood must be good for something.

The faint silk scent of the window drapes was now combined with the perfume of luxurious colognes. The Chairman, a portly man with a well-used face, experienced the effect without enjoyment; well used to the smell of money. Taking advantage of his central seat on the small platform he surveyed the room. He was impressed all over again at the power of the Committee; to be able to summon two hundred people from the international political, military, industrial and social elites at such short notice and achieve their attendance was no mean feat.

Clusters of men, mostly white and middle-aged, their dark, sombre suits offset by a few in full dress uniform, a scattering of crisp white djellabas and several in multi-coloured dashikis. He noted the women; not enough to tip the balance.

All were veterans of this type of gathering, some chatting easily to each other, most keeping their own counsel. At the Chairman's nod, the man who'd been awaiting the signal detached himself from the group and walked to the podium; tall, slim, dark hair at the distinguished stage.

Kurt Silverman, Head of the Institute of Research. He cut an athletic figure; he looked good and he knew it. He also knew that he was amongst those for whom personal appearance mattered less than power and holdings; in that respect he was not their equal, he was there to serve them.

The view offered to him from the uplifted podium was of rows of seats, each one occupied by a glossy A4 booklet he'd prepared and placed there earlier. Gradually, as if in response to an unspoken suggestion, members of the group began to move to these seats.

After a short time the Chairman rose to his feet, his dark grey Kiton suit struggling valiantly to contain and command his ample body.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome," he said, his voice carrying without effort to the back of the room. Given the ratio of male to female and, more pertinently, the balance of power he might have been forgiven for saying, 'welcome gentlemen'. Having caught the eagle eye of the auburn-haired woman in black, seated next to Sir Digby, such a lapse had been rendered impossible. He waved his hand towards the podium, introduced Kurt in a few crisp words and resumed his seat.

Kurt spoke, his voice betraying a slight nervousness; this was an august company and he would have been a fool not to have regard for their power,

"Thank you for inviting me here to deliver, for your consideration, the proposed solution to the most pressing issue of our times; 'Peak Oil'."

He paused, making deliberate eye contact with the front row, then continued, "As you know, in the 70s it was estimated we would reach Peak Oil somewhere around 2015, after which the rate of production was expected to enter terminal decline, giving us a global fuel crisis somewhere about 2075."

He clicked a hand held device and the screen behind him came to life, showing a map of the location of the last known oil reserves, "However, increased warfare, rises in manufacturing and rampant population growth has meant a massively increased demand. We passed Peak Oil in 2005. As a result, we will reach the projected fuel crisis much sooner than expected."

He clicked again and the screenshot changed, "Of course, we took steps over the last few decades to try and contain the situation. Thanks to the work of the Neo Liberals in the eighties and nineties we were able to offset the increasing costs of oil production by shifting costs of manufacturing to the more cost effective labour force of the third world."

Kurt indicated with a smile the six-strong delegation from China, all male, in identical Prince of Wales check suits and to his eye, with identical faces. He gestured to the smaller group from India, two serious-looking men and one elderly, petite, sari-clad woman.

"You may recall it was estimated that we'd need a further three decades before the third world would be strong enough to take over the consumption of the West."

He paused before delivering the punch line, "I'm happy to say our recent studies have revealed that the new consumers are there in abundance as we speak, and more than able to take up the slack."

A few heads looked up at this revelation, most didn't react at all. Kurt had no time to wonder if they'd already had this information, he had to move on to the crux of the matter.

"This being the case not only have we no further need of the northern hemisphere labour market, we now have no interest in their continued ability to buy our products. In short we have no further need to sustain this part of the population."

Kurt was moving with poise now, as another chart appeared on the screen showing world population levels, "You will be aware of various natural phenomena supporting our aims of constraining population growth; the greatest of which are Aids and famine. The policy of appearing to work towards their eradication whilst achieving very little seems to be working. That takes care of Africa. Helpfully, Eastern and Southern European countries are being depopulated via sustained civil war and ethnic cleansing."

He paused, then, "Rapid economic cleansing is also underway; highly desirable areas of France and Spain are being de-populated and in the UK, London is being cleared to make way for settlement by the very wealthy, with the rest of the South-East to follow."

He couldn't prevent the smug grin that crossed his face; he'd recently snapped up some exquisite properties just outside Primrose Hill, so felt he had to follow up with, "Of course, you will get first pick of these prime slices of real estate as they become available. In fact, I believe you can book your plots now, is that right, Mr. Chairman?"

The Chairman rose awkwardly, caught out by the change of subject, but the words flowed with practiced ease, "Superior Homes has created an exclusive brochure, copies of which will be available in the foyer as you leave conference. You'll find outline plans for a deluxe chateau in an average lot size of 3,000 hectares in the new territories. "

An electric buzz swept the room.

Kurt judged the time was right for the big announcement, "However, attritional reduction of population in these areas is not enough for our needs. We must contain America, the biggest oil consumer on the planet."

Kurt looked round the room, then invested his voice with strength, "We now need to move into the last phase of our plan, which we are calling 'Operation Downsize'. I'd like to introduce General Nathan Goldhirsch of the US Army who will explain it to you."

The US contingent stirred in their seats and a tall man in full dress uniform rose to his feet and headed towards the platform. "That's US Marine Corps, Kurt," he said, smiling. There was a smattering of laughter, quickly suppressed.

"Okay," said the General, his frown bringing them back to complete order, "let's get down to business. We need to reduce the US of A population by at least 25% and we can't pussy-foot around. Economic destabilisation brings its own problems and we have one helluva civilian army out there, all armed. If they get a sniff of what's going on all hell will break loose. So, we gotta do it quickly." He turned to the screen and pointed at the image that appeared, "This here is La Palma, one of the Canary Islands."

A hush settled on the room, this was where it started to get serious.

The screen changed. "And this is the Cumbre Vieja volcano, it is extremely volatile." The screen changed again, "This is the western face of the volcano, which is gradually collapsing. One day, in the natural course of things this side will fall into the sea creating a mega tsunami which will sweep across the Atlantic, ravage the Bahamas and reach the Eastern seaboard in a matter of hours."

He allowed the magnitude of the pronouncement a few moments to settle then delivered the coup de grace, "Well, we don't have time to wait for the natural course of things, ladies and gentlemen, so we intend to blow the whole damn thing sky high. And we're doing it soon." 

Happy reading, hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

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Hi

Just to let you know that my book 'Insurrection' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle/PC download from Saturday 11th to Wednesday 15th March 2017. All I ask is that you tell your friends and leave a review.

A group of well-heeled, geriatric friends, all ex service men and women, are so incensed at the callous and sustained ruination of their country that they resolve to make a stand, to arm themselves and to fight, to rid the land of their greedy leaders, to attack the political elites in their haven, the Houses of Parliament, even if it means making the ultimate sacrifice - will they go through with their murderous plans? A mad-eyed Preacher - is he all that he seems to be? What links them? Where will they all end up?

Sample below:

All around him lay his comrades, brave men of the 24th. The crack of rifles mingled with the cries of the wounded. He loaded a cartridge into the breach of his Martini-Henry and levelled the bayonet to meet the oncoming Zulus. He felt the warmth against his face, eyes closed he smelt the dry air, a slight breeze ruffled through his hair as he slowly exhaled. He heard the tune of Hound Dog and Elvis blasting away, then a heavy banging...

"Alb, you alright in there?"

"What the...?" he mumbled, rubbing his forehead, "Bugger."

"Alb?" Gerry sounded concerned; next step would be the warden and the master key.

"Yeah, yeah," he responded, struggling out his chair. His current favourite book, 'The Washing of the Spears ' slid off his lap and onto the floor, "Coming, give us a chance, won't you."
∞
During the years they’d lived in the Eden Hall Retirement Village, as residents died and apartments became vacant, Alb Rayner and Gerry Arbuthnot had contrived re-locations until they now lived next door to one another; best friends as children, best man at each other’s wedding, they’d billeted together in the army and saw no reason why they shouldn’t support each other in their dotage. (Alb’s words)

Now Gerry's hands trembled slightly as he put the two mugs of tea on the low table and slumped gratefully into the armchair. He looked across the room; at the lines of bookshelves that held the non-fiction that had sustained his friend for all the years he'd known him. For once Alb had no book in his hand, although one was lying open nearby, instead his attention was fixed on the TV, a large flat screened, surround-sound, effort bought so recently that the excitement of watching even boring shows on such a large and loud scale had yet to wear off. Alb had justified the purchase with the stridently voiced comment that since 'not a lot else' was going on in his life except counting the days to death and since he'd no-one to leave his money to even when that happened he would spend it while he could.

“You're just in time, some people’s issues programme's about to start," he muttered, remote in hand, "that poncey prick Tommy Boyle.”

“Ah, the lie detector show, that crap, turn it up, will ya.” There was apparently even less going on in Gerry's life.

"Did you see old Pete died?" Alb was a font of local knowledge, mostly from reading the obituaries.

"A real shame, he wasn't that old either," said Gerry, for once he too had heard the gossip.

"76 next birthday," said Alb; to them at 80 and 81 respectively Pete had been a mere stripling. "Not yet 76 and his bloody kids bunged him in a dump like that." He shivered; 'that' had been a state-run nursing home and could've been his fate too if it weren't for his Army pension and some good investments. His greatest terror, something that could wake him at night sweating, was the loss of his freedom and his beloved books.

"You'd have thought they could've looked after him, bloody selfish little shits." Gerry was instantly outraged, like blue touch paper lit on a firecracker, "You remember, when my old mum moved in with me and Gwen after dad died, we knew how to look after our own in those days."

"Yep," said Alb, who'd done the same for his dad, "it wasn't all me, me, me back then, people were a community."

"We looked out for each other," Gerry was warming to the theme; though they'd gone over the ground time and again, "no-one would've put their parents away, even in places like this."

He waved his hand to take in the whole set up; thirty-two separate one bedroom, ground floor apartments, arranged in a figure of eight around two central courtyards. Each had its own kitchen and lounge but there were communal facilities; a kitchenette, a sun room, a casual dining area and a large TV lounge. The Eden Hall Retirement Village was well equipped with all manner of amenities; available to all with the money to pay for it.

They fell silent, both taking a sip of tea and staring at the TV, the music started and they were entranced in an instant, part of the show, ready to be introduced to the mess-ups some people call their lives, ready to be entertained.

The host of the show, Tommy Boyle, tall, debonair and utterly lethal, his frame dominating the scene, turned to the large, amorphous mass on his right, “Felicity, please, tell us why you’re here.”

“Well, Tommy,” Felicity (all 22 stone of her) bounced in the chair, her arms gesticulating this way and that, “I’m pregnant right an’ Randall, my boyfriend won’t believe I ‘aven’t ‘ad sex wiv no-one else, just ‘im.”

"Bugger me, I'd believe her," Gerry was leaning out of his chair, nearly spilling his tea, "I'm surprised she's had sex with anybody, I mean who the hell could fancy that?"

The crux of the story laid bare the audience relaxed, waiting for the maestro to begin his dissection; “So for you, Felicity, it's clear, it's your boyfriend's baby.”

“Yeah,” said Felicity, the coquettish look she produced sat uneasily on her shapeless face.

"Right, let's get him in here," said Tommy. He put out one arm in a welcoming gesture and onto the stage slouched a tall and skinny youth with a spotty complexion. He made a face at the audience, some hissing at him having already made up their minds, and slumped into a chair.

"Okay Randall," started Tommy, "Felicity has told us that she's pregnant and that you don't believe it's yours."

"I know it ain't," spat Randall, adjusting his position, angling his body away from Felicity's.

"Gawd, will you look at that," guffawed Alb.

"What a bloody mess," said Gerry, trying to make up his mind if the youth's hair was wet or simply greasy. "A quick spell in the army wouldn't do him any harm."

"Too bloody right," agreed Alb, "reckon that goes for most of the lay-abouts."

"Yor a liar," barked Felicity, rising monstrously from her chair. The two book-end bouncers waiting in the wings moved closer at a quick signal from Tommy but she subsided into her chair as quickly as she'd risen from it.

The argument raged back and forth on screen, the all too familiar pattern of lies and deceit; baring your lives to the studio audience's ridicule as well as that of the watching millions, all in the name of entertainment.

Gerry sighed heavily; the repetition was depressing, "We got any biscuits?"

"No, you got any in your place?"

"No," said Gerry, "but I bet Ken has."

Ken Grewcock lived in one of the apartments along the way, a mere minute's walk yet neither could summon the energy to move; they continued to stare at the TV.

Tommy was in command again, doing his showman bit, playing to the audience, "Okay, Randall, we get the general idea, you don't trust Felicity." He paused for effect, “So, if you don’t trust her, why is it that you’re still with her?"

Randall fidgeted in his seat and played with his nose, then picked it with his thumb, "'Cause I luv 'er, doan I." The camera homed in on Randall's tears and then cut to Felicity. She put out a chubby arm and looked tenderly at him.

"Well, if you love each other so much, why are we here?" asked Tommy, "Surely you can make it work together, for the sake of the baby."

"It ain't my fuckin' kid," retorted Randall, tears dried.

"What makes you think it isn't?" asked Tommy.

"I just know, ok," sullen now, head on chest, his voice a low mumble.

"It's your baby," Felicity's voice was ragged with tears, "I love you an' I ain't been wiv no-one else, on my muvver's life."

"Well, we can establish the truth of that statement," said Tommy, stretching his hand out for the 'golden envelope of truth' in a theatrical gesture, "Felicity took the lie detector test this morning and we asked her 'have you had sex with anyone else since dating Randall?'"

Both Gerry and Alb had leaned forward, breath bated, in an unconscious mirroring of the studio audience's reaction.

Tommy glanced round at the audience and then looked at Felicity, ".....and she said 'No'."

He paused for effect and the audience, expectant, leant further forwards in their seats, a pin dropping would have caused mayhem, "and the lie detector test said.....she was........LYING."

At that the audience erupted with gasps, groans, laughs and general abuse directed at both individuals on the stage. Gerry added his own tirade to the general cacophony.

"D'you know," Alb's voice sounded strained, "I blame Thatcher, her and her 'no such thing as society'. We used to look after each other, in the old days, but it's different today." Gerry had half an ear on the TV and half on Alb, never a good thing to do as he would keep talking until he got proper acknowledgement of his point. "No-one looks out for anyone anymore, as soon as you're old they bung you somewhere to die, 'cause that's what they want to do... forget us until we die, then they whisk us away and bung us in the ground, just like that."

"Yeah," said Gerry, "know what you mean."

"And everything we were, everything we stood for, our experiences...."
Gerry caught his drift, "Yeah ...it's a real shame, a man like Pete, all his memories and now they're all gone, lost forever."

He was now quite depressed and was about to say more when Alb, in one of his quick mood changes muttered, "Still, no use cryin' over spilt milk," whilst pulling himself up and out of the chair. He fiddled with the remote, turning off the TV, "Come on; let's go see about those biscuits."

Happy reading, hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

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Pegboard wrote: "Sounds promising, thanks for the heads up about your book. Looking forward to reading it."

Cheers Pegboard - hope you enjoy it

Arun

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Hi

Just to let you know that my book 'Uprising' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle/PC download from Monday 6th to Friday 10th March 2017. All I ask is that you tell your friends and leave a review.

Set in a dystopian future; all wealth is in the hands of the Corporations, the 1% whilst the 99% live in economic debt or poverty on sink estates in the North. Terry works for Relocations, his job is to relocate undesirables to these estates. Unfortunately for Terry he is late for work once too often and is himself relocated to a sink. But Terry is not all he seems. Why is he there and who does he really work for?

Sample below:

Cramming the last piece of toast into his mouth Terry Jones grabbed his jacket and left his apartment for the office. He’d had the option of a high-rise within walking distance when he was first assigned to Relocations; his reasons for turning it down had seemed sound; cost = astronomical, space = minimal. Now, and not for the first time, he wished he’d taken it. That morning he’d set his alarm earlier than usual in the hopes of beating the rush hour traffic, problem was he never really managed to keep to his schedule (poor time management or lousy schedule?) and he found himself, yet again, bumper to bumper and yet again, late for work.
Brian Olsen made the final adjustments to his tie, jacket and hair before leaving the men’s room and heading to his desk; all the while diligently maintaining an erect 6ft 6in posture, a copy of today’s Times clamped under his right arm, his brief case gripped firmly in his right hand, and as he strode he repeated his mantra over and over in his head ‘today I will excel, today I will exceed all expectations, today I will excel, today I will exceed all expectations….’

Rain Morgan, stared at the free drinks machine for a few moments before selecting a cappuccino with sugar. Her actual name was Rainbow Sunset, her mother having one her odd moments, but she preferred Rain. She was quickly joined by Debby Jenna and Phillippa Djukovic; just time for a quick debrief of Phillippa’s date with Simon Brookes from Finance.
Peter Illyffe, the divisional manager for Relocations 1, left his office and headed for the usual 8:30 briefing in meeting room 3, aka the cupboard due to its lack of size and windows. His staff fell in behind, a well-rehearsed troupe, that is everyone except Terry Jones who was still driving fruitlessly round and round the car park.

The room filled quickly; those lucky enough to get in the door first grabbed a seat at the table, Peter at their head.

“Morning everyone,” he said, to which there were the usual responses of “morning, morning Peter,” a few nods and coughs and a silky “morning, Boss” from Brian, tall even when sitting down. “No Terry, I see?”

This too was greeted by the usual responses, initial silence, then embarrassed coughs or ums…. followed by a clear and unequivocal “he’s not in yet, Boss” from Brian. Peter made a note in the top corner of his meeting notes, as usual.

“Ok, everyone got a copy of today’s agenda?” general nods everywhere, “good, ok – item one then – the recent merger with Alderson’s. As per our meeting yesterday morning I’ve checked up the line and can confirm that Alderson’s Relocations are being wound down and we will ‘inherit their workload’.”

“Relocations are being relocated.” Phillippa’s quip was not altogether unexpected; there were a few groans.

“Thank you Phillippa,” said Peter.

“How big a workload we talking?” asked Rain.

“Approx half again our existing workload,” replied Peter.

“Will we be getting more staff?” Rain again.

“No,” said Peter.

“But how are we meant to cope with that?” asked Debby, saying what the others were thinking.

“By ‘working smarter’,” Brian jumped in, borrowing one of Peter’s ‘phrases of the moment’, “and if some people spent less time at the coffee machine talking then we’d get a lot more done.”

“Who’re you on about?” demanded Debby, realising too late that by asking the question she had singled herself out. Peter made another note at the top of his meeting papers.

“Moving on” said Peter, sounding tired, “there will be a further meeting at 2pm today with the team from Alderson’s so we can ‘manage the handover’ smoothly. Rain and I will attend that. Another quick point, the company will no longer be providing free drinks.”

There was a collective gasp, then “Why’re they changing it?” asked Debby, “I mean we’ve had free coffee for years now.” For some reason her mouth seemed to be working overtime this morning, in the absence of Terry it could be deemed she had assumed his mantle.

“As you all know we’re facing ever ‘stiffer competition’ out there, which is one of the reasons we’ve been merged with Alderson’s. The Efficiency Department has identified that the company could save almost £100,000 a year by moving to a ‘pay for your own’ drinks environment.”

“Can we bring a kettle and make our own drinks?” asked Phillippa.

“No,” replied Peter, “that would mean providing kitchen facilities – an added expense.”

“What about a flask?” asked Brian.

“Flasks are OK,” said Peter, flashing him a grateful smile.

“If you can drink anything from a flask,” muttered Rain.

“Everyone, now, come to order, please.” Peter was becoming irritated and the strain of not showing it was telling on his stress levels. At that point Terry opened the door and slipped into the room, “Ah! Mr. Jones, glad you could join us.”

“Sorry I’m late,” said Terry “couldn’t find anywhere to park.”

“There were loads of spaces when I got here at 8:00,” said Brian.

“I got held up in traffic,” offered Terry, his expression hopeful.

“Then might I suggest you leave earlier,” replied Brian, “we all make the effort to be here on time, it’s only ever you who’s late.”

“Thank you, Brian,” Peter interceded. “OK the final point, we’ve had a report from C.I.T, the Counter Intelligence Team,” he elaborated, staring pointedly at Phillippa over whose head most things of import were known to sail, “that we have a ‘heightened terror threat’ as a result of our merger with Alderson’s.” He waited for the information to sink in then continued by way of explanation, “Apparently we’re now the 3rd largest provider of labour resource in the EU so it makes us an even bigger target.” Phillippa looked on the verge of tears, possibly at being singled out for the stare, the rest were demonstrating variously dismay or affected disinterest but no-one spoke. “So everybody please ‘stay alert, stay vigilant’ and re-watch the compulsory DVD ‘Terror and Counter Terrorism’. Remember, ‘we’re all in this together’ and it’s up to each and every one of us to …‘keep the workplace safe’.”

Terry winced; he was convinced that Peter’s insistence on speaking in inverted commas and quoting the company watchwords at every opportunity had a damaging effect on his psyche.

“Did anyone see the news this morning?” asked Rain, too brightly. “There was an explosion in the town centre.”

“Yeah,” chipped in Debby, “near Macheson’s.”

“They said something about 20 casualties,” Rain added, “it’s awful”.

“Did they say who it was?” asked Terry.

“It’s a bit early for that kind of info,” snapped Brian.

“I dunno,” defended Terry, “they sometimes give a warning.”

“That’s the Red Freedoms,” said Debby, “the Black Hands don’t give a warning.”

“Which could imply the Black Hands,” said Terry, settling in for a natter on the merits and demerits of one terrorist organisation’s way of doing business versus another.

“OK,” interrupted Peter, forestalling further chat, “Any questions?”

“Parking,” said Terry, opportunistic as ever, “when are they doing something about parking?”

“As we said yesterday and the day before and, oh yes, as we’ve been saying every day in all these months since you joined us, they aren’t going to do anything about the parking, thank you, Terry.” Peter stared round the table, lingering on Phillippa, as if daring any more utterances.

“When are they going to fix the tower clock?” she asked, making a sterling effort to fight back tears.

“And they aren’t going to fix the clock, either, Phillippa. As we’ve already said it will cost too much to repair. Any more questions?”

Silence.

“Good, back to work all of you, except you Terry, if you could just stay back a minute.”
The others filed out of the room and closed the door behind them.

“You were late again Terry.”

“I know but it was the traffic….”

“Traffic is not an excuse, Terry,” said Peter, “you should know to factor that in to your plans. Also, as I recall, Human Resources offered you an apartment close by when you joined us, a much sought after facility that had only come available due to the unfortunate demise of your predecessor.” He fell silent, possibly in recognition of human frailty and the fact that the previous occupant had thrown himself ungratefully off the 7th floor balcony of the much vaunted facility. “You are paid to be here between the hours of 8:30 and 5:00. It’s up to you to get yourself here on time.”

“Yes,” said Terry, for once recognising a time when the less words said might be the better.

“Everyone else manages to be here. I have to come from further away than you so I leave earlier. Brian always gets here at 8:00.”

“I know,” Terry murmured, humbly, while thinking 'yeah but Brian hasn’t got a life…'

“And he doesn’t leave his desk until 5.45 whereas you are packed and out the door by 5:10 if you can get away with it.”

Again, Brian hasn’t got a life …“I always do my hours…”

“Do you want to see your clocking in sheet?” asked Peter. Terry ducked his head; he knew what it would show. “The thing is Terry, it’s not working out for us; I think we need to move you on.”

Terry grimaced “I’m sorry Peter, I promise I will get here earlier in future.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late, Terry, Galaxy has already collated your data and raised it with Human Resources. They’ve spotlighted you and put in the transfer request.”

“You mean I’m already on the List?” asked Terry. “That was quick.”

Peter gave him a look; he was a strange one and no mistake, “Should come through in a few days. …Obviously you can’t be on site when it comes through, that would create a conflict of interest so your employment with Peter Brookes will be terminated this morning.”

Terry placed his head in his hands; his date with Cathy in Finance had just gone down the pan.

“I’m sorry, Terry but you knew your stats were in the system. It was only a matter of time before Galaxy highlighted you. You know the drill; it’s out of my hands.”

“I know, I know,” said Terry.

“I’m afraid I have to escort you off the premises.” Terry nodded. “Straight from this meeting.”

“Right now? Don’t I get to say goodbye to anyone?”

“Afraid not, you will be clocked out …” Peter flicked through his paperwork, “5 minutes from now. Sorry but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Terry, “I know how the system works.”


Happy reading, hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

Amazon .co.uk
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Uprising-Aru...
Amazon.com
https://www.amazon.com/Uprising-Arun-...

Hi -

Amazon.co.uk
https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B...

Amazon.com
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00...

Just to let you know that my book 'Daydream Believers' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle/PC download from Sunday 5th June to Thursday 9th June 2016. All I ask is that you tell your friends and leave a review.

It's about a bunch of old people, ex service men and women all, find they are no longer willing to sit back and allow the politically corrupt to ruin their country. They resolve to make a stand, to arm themselves and to fight, to rid the land of their greedy leaders, to attack the political elites in their haven, the Houses of Parliament.

The workmen argue and bluster and generally mess up, the three fat ladies take advantage of the digital age to seduce their unsuspecting prey.

The superstar footballer and his trophy wife reveal the self destructive nature of their life together and their pointless marriage.

A lucky couple win the lottery and find the pressures of new found wealth and family envy hard to handle.

A young East European finds herself prostituted until she meets her chivalric knight.

A mad eyed preacher tries to lecture the world back from the abyss.

The avenging 'Hand of God' meets out justice against criminal pimps from his community.

A homicidal diarist decides he's had enough and plans to kill members of the selfish 1%.

And then there's the return of Blackmore, the spy master general.
Happy reading and hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

Amazon.co.uk
https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B...

Amazon.com
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00...

Hi - Just to let you know that 'Corpalism' will be FREE from Amazon as a kindle download from the 04/10/15 until 08/10/15, all I ask is that you kindly leave a review. I have listed some links below.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Corpalism-Aru...
http://www.amazon.com/Corpalism-Arun-...
http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B...
http://www.amazon.ca/Corpalism-Arun-D...
To help you decide if this is your kind of book I've attached a brief description below

Corpalism

The book is in five parts; the timeline moves back and forth 20 years, using inter connected characters and storylines. Situational humour serves to lighten the mood and the characters range from the cynically evil, through the surprisingly likeable to the positively evangelical.

The first part is based in an economically dystopian future, a fast-paced thriller that moves in a believable way between fact and fiction, the second part plunges the unsuspecting reader into the distressed mind of Stephanie White a political activist from the new Independent party and victim of the latest terror atrocity locked in a coma fighting a trivial persona her mother has imposed upon her through years of brainwashing, whilst the third has several characters, including Stephanie and Donald from the previous volumes, in a pub arguing various topics from various points of view; the reader being left to decide which is valid. Part four brings all the threads together and the final part is set 20 years in the past.

A unique experience – a page turner with a message.

If you know anyone else who might be interested please feel free to let them know.

Cheers

Arun

Hi - Just to let you know that Daydream Believers with the new cover will be FREE from Amazon as a kindle download from the 31/08/15 until 04/09/15, all I ask is that you kindly leave a review. I have listed some links below.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0...
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00N...
http://www.amazon.ca/Corpalism-II-Bel...
http://www.amazon.com.au/Daydream-Bel...

To help you decide if this is your kind of book I've attached a brief description below

Daydream Believers-
Revolutionary pensioners who are fed up with unchecked immigration and hell bent on removing corrupt politicians, sexually predatory murderous fat ladies, Machiavellian political intriguers, a mad-eyed Preacher trying to reach the souls of a disinterested public, a chivalric knight, men at work, an avenging 'hand of god', a celebrity 'golden' couple sleeping with everyone but their partner, jackpot winners and a homicidal diarist all combine to create an entertaining story of modern-day Britain.

If you know anyone else who might be interested please feel free to let them know.

Cheers

Arun

Hi - The abridged version of Corpalism is FREE on Amazon Kindle until Monday 17/08/15. It contains volumes 1 & 5 only; all I ask is that you kindly leave a review.
Click this link for Corpalism Abridged on Amazon.co.uk
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Corpalism-Abr...

Click this link for Corpalism Abridged on Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/Corpalism-Abrid...

To help you decide if this is your kind of book I've attached a brief description

Corpalism abridged-

Contains volumes 1 and 5 only - Corpalism is an exciting and often funny mixture of timely political commentary that moves in a believable way, between fact and fiction. As seen through the eyes of myriad people, the book attempts to describe the road we are on and where corporate greed will eventually drive us if we choose to do nothing. Corpalism remonstrates against the evil of corporate greed, puts forward a credible alternative to the duopoly of current party politics and offers hope of an alternative future if we act now. A unique experience – a page turner with a message.

If you know anyone else who might be interested please feel free to let them know.

Cheers

Arun

Hi - I have been contacted by a few people who missed my recent FREE BOOK GIVEAWAY - unfortunately I can't extend this with Amazon, however, I have decided to leave my books - 'Corpalism' and 'Daydream Believers' on special offer of 0.99p and $1.52 for a few more weeks - they will be available from Amazon for Kindle/PC download, all I ask is that you kindly leave a review.

Click this link for Corpalism and Daydream Believers on Amazon.Co.Uk
http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_n...

Click this link for Corpalism and Daydream Believers on Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_nos...

To help you decide if these are your kind of books I've attached a brief description of each

Corpalism -
The first part is based in an economically dystopian future, a fast-paced thriller that moves in a believable way between fact and fiction, the second part plunges the unsuspecting reader into the distressed mind of Stephanie White a political activist from the new Independent party and victim of the latest terror atrocity locked in a coma fighting a trivial persona her mother has imposed upon her through years of brainwashing, whilst the third has several characters, including Stephanie and Donald from the previous volumes, in a pub arguing various topics from various points of view; the reader being left to decide which is valid. Part four brings all the threads together and the final part is set 20 years in the past.

Daydream Believers-
Revolutionary pensioners who are fed up with unchecked immigration and hell bent on removing corrupt politicians, sexually predatory murderous fat ladies, Machiavellian political intriguers, a mad-eyed Preacher trying to reach the souls of a disinterested public, a chivalric knight, men at work, an avenging 'hand of god', a celebrity 'golden' couple sleeping with everyone but their partner, jackpot winners and a homicidal diarist all combine to create an entertaining story of modern-day Britain.

If you know anyone else who might be interested please feel free to let them know.

Cheers

Arun