For the Love of God

By Nigel Bird

Photograph by Marzel

Over 200 years we waited for someone to arrive. All that hanging around and it was over in a flash.

“Guard the door,” she said. “Guard it well.” That was 1789.

“Whatever happens, don’t let anyone in.” Her hair was piled on top of her scalp as ever and, if anything, her skin was paler than her usual snowy tones.

When her head rolled to Madame Guillotine in ’93, we had a meeting. Decided to stay on – she deserved our loyalty the way she’d treated us.

To be honest, we never took it that seriously. We had those three dogs just outside the doors, the ones with eyes big as dinner plates, cartwheels and moons. You probably know of them. Didn’t think anyone would manage to get past them. Only reason we were there was to wake them up if anyone turned up with the magic apron.

Given that there were the five of us, we got to take a tour of the gardens or pop in to Versailles every once in a while to keep up with the rest of the world. read the rest of the story

In the end I suppose we became complacent. Only folk we really saw were tourists.

Shame I hadn’t kept up with modern literature.

Should have listened to the kids – they knew all about it.

When we saw the raisins on the ground, ‘Danny Champion Of The World’ never entered our minds and we just gobbled them up. Those powders had us asleep in no time.

Must have been well-planned on account of them having the magic apron and all.

Didn’t know what to do with ourselves at first. Ended up hanging around here most of the time. Better the devil you know and all that.

The other day while I was in town, I saw it on the television in an old lady’s house. There’s this bloke claiming he made it. Poor fellow. He’s saying it’s a work of art, that he bought a skull and covered it in diamonds. It’s on display in some gallery or other.

For the love of God, imagine what he could do if he knew the powers he’d captured. Some folk can’t see past the riches, see.

Mind you, I know what he means. It’s a thing of beauty all right.

Don’t feel so bad knowing he’s not going to use it for the dark side.

So there you have it. 200 years and not a lot to show.

Better go and feed those dogs. The big ones are all right, but that little thing gets real fierce when he doesn’t get his lunch on time.

Rumour is we might be getting a new contract, the lot of us. Seems there’s been a security breach at the Tower Of London.

I’ll keep you posted.

Nigel Bird (writer) Nigel Bird is a Support For Learning teacher in a primary school near Edinburgh. Co-Producer of the Rue Bella magazine between 1998 and 2003, he has recently had work published by ‘The Reader’ and ‘Crimespree’ and was interviewed by Spinetingler for their ‘Conversations With The Bookless’ series earlier this year. Other stories have been available online via ‘Needle’ and ‘You Would Say That Wouldn’t You?’ He hopes to complete a draft of his first novel by the end of 2010.  One of his short stories has been selected for the The Best Of British Crime Stories anthology, edited by Maxim Jakubowski, publication date March 2011.

Marzel (photographer) is an artist and writer who currently lives in the Sierra Nevada foothills with her husband, three kids and psychic pug Brigit.  Marzel specializes in photography, digital art, painting, sculpting, and writing of a darker nature.  She is co-administrator and Editor-in-Chief for the Dark Artists Guild.  Find more of her at at The Play of Light and Shadow.

Tags: Nigel Bird, Tower of London