Litro #115 Work Teaser by Litro Magazine

115

SIAN EVANS

J. D. PETERSEN

OWEN HYRICK

DAVID WHELAN

DIE BOOTH

COVER IMAGE COURTESY OF MINNESOTA HISTORICAL SOCIETY

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CONTENTS

STOP EATING THE FRUIT SIAN EVANS

THE GROOVES OF THE BLADE OF THE KEY OWEN HYRICK

THIS IS THE LIFE DIE BOOTH

HOME ON THE RANGE J. D. PETERSEN

HORNS DAVID WHELAN

LISTINGS ALEX JAMES ROBIN STEVENS

FROM THE EDITOR

WELCOME TO ISSUE 115 OF LITRO

Work. We all have to do it (unless we’re royal, or very rich), we all spend many waking hours at it, but how do we really feel about it? For some people – footballers, writers, artists – work is also a kind of play, but that doesn’t make it any easier, because when the rewards are high, so are the risks.

Speaking of work, it’s a been a real pleasure and challenge editing Litro for the last (nearly) two years – but now I’ve been lucky enough to have Penguin publish my first novel The Whores’ Asylum, it’s back to work for me – writing fiction rather than editing for a change. I’m delighted, however, to be handing over to new editors Mohsen Shah and Alex Goodwin, who I know will work their socks off to make Litro better than ever.

Work can be one of the most exciting and frightening parts of life, and this month’s stories, in their very different ways, explore the mundane as well as the extraordinary aspects of work – you might interview for these positions, but you certainly wouldn’t want the job. We’ve selected the best nine-to-five Contributing Editor fiction for this issue, from J. D. Petersen’s subtle and disturbing guarded-missile story Home on the Range, to David Whelan’s nihilistic office fantasy Horns.

Katy Darby

LONDON’S GLOBAL UNIVERSITY

Study Dutch... at one of the world’s best universities UCL, one of the top-ten global universities, houses the oldest and largest Centre for Dutch Studies in the English-speaking world, a recognised centre of excellence in both research and teaching of Dutch and Flemish literature, culture, history and society. A full range of undergraduate (BA Dutch) and graduate degrees (MA/MPhil/PhD Dutch Studies) are available. Dutch can either be studied on its own, or combined with other areas such as History of Art, Management Studies, Film Studies, or another European language and culture. UCL’s uniquely supportive environment for its students include an annual Writer in Residence programme with an acclaimed author from the Netherlands, visiting students and lecturers from the Netherlands and Belgium, a large array of digital learning resources, UCL’s careers service, and all the Dutch and Flemish attractions and cultural events that London has to offer. For further information visit www.ucl.ac.uk/dutch

Image credit: Nick Piercey

STOP EATING THE FRUIT SIAN EVANS

utumn in Paris; winter in Prague; spring in Amsterdam. It’s summer so here I am. I didn’t know if you would be here but I came anyway.

When I fell out of love with you – I say this as though to fall in love is an actual physical movement – it was not you I missed. It was the life that we’d created together. Our love didn’t grow as the one entity though, we had our illusion of love and we had our affairs with those misconceptions. Now that you’re gone, I should embrace the space and become. I should. Behold the new me! There is a possibility that you will be in our flat. A remote one. As the Latin proverb says: nothing dries sooner than tears.

‘What’s the space either side of the canvas saying?’ ‘That, perhaps, the gallery owner should’ve exhibited more of my work.’ ‘Ha! Perhaps I would’ve if your work was more exciting.’ ‘My work’s original!’ ‘The surface – perhaps.’ ‘A year ago you wouldn’t have displayed a single portrait.’ ‘A year ago I wasn’t your teacher…’ ‘And you weren’t my student, let’s not forget that.’ ‘…and without my tutelage you’d be a stagnant artist.’ ‘I’m successful!’ ‘The masses buy what the masses understand.’ ‘All art is relative to the reality you’re living in. Isn’t that what you forced me to believe?’ ‘Yes. But, you still lack…something.’ 07 | LITRO

THE GROOVES OF THE BLADE OF THE KEY OWEN HYRICK

hen I informed my father of my decision to cut down from full- to part-time employment, he was indignant: ‘If you aren’t going to bring home a proper wage, you’d damn well better start doing more around the house!’ At first, this arrangement didn’t seem too disagreeable. It soon became apparent, however, that the old man expected me to do a great many more domestic chores than I had anticipated. So in order to meet his expectations, or at the very least approach them, I decided to withdraw from employment altogether. My sister was kind enough to let me stay with her and her fiancé. ‘Temporarily’, she later added, diluting her kindness somewhat.

I strum an open chord on my guitar. The guitar is in standard tuning—or rather it would be, if the B string were not missing. I put the instrument on my bed and walk away as the chord continues imperfectly to resonate. The remote control isn’t working. I take out the batteries and then reinsert them. Despite the fact that the batteries have been functioning inconsistently for the past week, neither my sister nor her fiancé has seen fit to replace them. I switch on the television. The phone rings. Invariably, I find telephone conversations to be extremely awkward. Unfortunately, I am at the same time pathologically incapable of leaving ringing phones unanswered. I empty the clothes pegs into the basket and take the basket upstairs into the spare room. I open the window. The object of the game is to defenestrate the pegs so that they land in the bucket on the patio below. I have codified the rules thus: for each peg that lands in the bucket, the participant will score one point; for each peg that ricochets off the wall and into the bucket, the participant will score three points; for each peg that lands in the bucket only to then bounce out again, the participant will score zero points; for each peg that bounces from the ground and into the bucket, the participant will lose a point; should the participant manage successfully to score ten points, the world will be saved; should the participant score fewer than ten points, the world will be destroyed. I am hoping that today, after many hours and much hard work, I will finally score at least ten points.

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THIS IS THE LIFE DIE BOOTH

‘

I thought I saw…’

She trailed off. The coffee machine gave a loud beep, jetting boiling mudcolour liquid into the cup below the nozzle and Jeanette risked a glance at the woman at her side who had just spoken. Bowed head, face nearly hidden by frosted blonde hair, but the eyes still peering through in hopeful entreaty: Ask me what I thought I saw. Jeanette arranged her face into an approximation of polite enquiry, half I’m here for you, sister and half oh God, please don’t overshare, I’m busy. She didn’t actually check the slim, platinum watch encircling her wrist, but the message was there: instead she blew across the top of her plastic cup of moccachino, angling her shoulders very slightly away, her flight implicit. The other woman clarified, quickly and without looking up, ‘I thought I saw Alice.’ The other woman: Sandra something, from Research and Intelligence. It was a big company; people who sat at adjacent desks communicated solely by email and only recognised each other’s faces in relation to names when called into physical meetings. It made it easy to not know one another. Jeanette nodded distractedly, gazing into her drink. The coffee powder and chocolate powder and creamer substitute settled in layers, the sponge of froth scumming the top, trapping improbable heat and leaving a clinging tide mark of solid bubbles around the sides like chemical dregs on a polluted beach. Sandra carried on in a low voice, ‘I was picking up some prints on Tottenham Court Road and I could swear I saw her in the crowd. Only,’ she paused, a frown folding her voice, ‘I can’t be sure. It was her. It was her, the image of her – she was carrying a bag of something, dry cleaning it looked like, but she looked different somehow. She was always so smart, so,’ again she paused, groping for the right word, ‘alert. But this woman, no. Her hair all scraped back and she was wearing a tracksuit and she looked so… oh, but she looked so much like Alice.’ Jeanette glanced up. Sandra hadn’t moved, was still spying expectantly through her hair. There was no easy way to avoid it. ‘I’m sorry, who’s Alice? I work with so many people-’ ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Sandra said, quietly.

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HOME ON THE RANGE J. D. PETERSEN

know how the world will end. Deep inside most people do. Despite lectures on strategic equilibrium and all the reassuring propaganda, we all know Eliot was wrong. The world will not end with a whimper; it will end with a bang – the likes of which man has never seen. I park just outside the support building. Pete is waiting by the door. We exchange a few words with the security guards. They know us well, but follow their procedures as if strangers. We wait under an oversized Strategic Air Command emblem. ‘Peace is our Profession’ it says. We are cleared and proceed. ‘Same old, same old’, says Pete, as we enter the lift. A catchphrase uttered with unfailing certainty at the start of every shift for the last six months. I no longer care to reply. All I can muster is a wry smile and a slight nod. He is right though. The active crew greets us militarily as we arrive. Their twelve hours are up. Like everything we do the changeover is short and precise. Ceremoniously, we are awarded the red keys. They brief us on the system status, weather forecasts and war plans. There is no time for banter. Finally, they hand over the daily crypto cards and take their leave with a smart salute. The control room is the size and shape of a large caravan. Virtually every surface is a sickening pale green colour. Everything is spotlessly clean. The air is cool and dry with a slight scent of warm electronics. We take our places by the wall and begin work. The noise is almost overwhelming. Whining components and the hum of computer cooling fans - your ears adapt. I swivel my chair around catching a glimpse of Pete unloading binders from his briefcase - Armageddon literature. We work swiftly in silence. Setting up, jotting down and making ready. It’s a five minute deal. ‘Setup complete, all systems go,’ I say, as I finish the last of my checks. ‘Roger that John-boy, we are A-okay’. We now have ten fully armed and primed Minuteman missiles at our command, and for the next twelve hours Pete and I will be keeping the world safe. The keys around our neck can instantly launch the entire battery. Each weapon capable of obliterating a major metropolitan area the size of let’s say, Moscow. We are the vanguard of democracy. We are the Minutemen – 31 | LITRO

HORNS DAVID WHELAN

he horns can be heard everywhere.

She sips coffee and stares at a large monitor. Her name is Amanda, I think, but to be honest I don’t remember. Actually, it’s not that I can’t remember it’s that I never even listened to hear it in the first place. Seconds ago she was talking, standing over me at my desk answering a question I didn’t ask, and I slipped into my well-honed routine of eye contact, nodding and mmhmms? and before I knew it she was gone. She sits, now, at her computer, satisfied in the assumed knowledge that I know what I am meant to be doing. I’m new to this place and I really should have listened. I know that I ought to listen more often, but I think as a city kid there’s that constant murmur of bustle and business that makes it hard to concentrate. I mean, if I just stop thinking for a second and let the lack of silence wash over me, in what I imagine would be an orangey wave of dust and sweat, then the noise starts suffocating me from all angles and I hear that thud, thud, thud, thud of bones, skin and plastic colliding, bits left behind by both parties, mingling with each other, computer becoming flesh. Blood as ink. Fingers tapping on keyboards, horns outside beeping, lights flashing on, off, red, green, yellow. Ink. And then I open my eyes. She’s back at her desk now and if I’m clever I can perhaps overhear someone else say her name, or maybe I’ll never need to learn it. Maybe I’ll just go over to her and grunt like her husband and thrust into her possession whatever it is that I decide she wanted me to do. Oh, she’s married. No one could suck on a coffee like that without experienced lips. ‘Amanda’ is back. With a couple of sways of the hip she is above me again. I think there’s a chance I can get her name here, maybe I’ll ask for her email address, that’ll come in handy. J.Harrow@hotmail.com. Great. A J. Janet? Maybe. Let’s try it. Here goes nothing. First day, already getting in trouble. I really should learn to listen, like I used to do. ‘So you want these elephants researched and cross-checked by two …’ – say it you stupid fuck – ‘… right, J-anet?’ A smile. Jackpot struck, three melons. Well, two, in this case. Eyes lingering on the whites of the top of her breasts. She doesn’t notice, I think she’s a little slow.

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LISTINGS MAY Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre May - September 2012 Celebrating its 80th Anniversary in 2012, the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre has become a London landmark and a firm fixture of summer in the city. At 1,240 seats, it is one of London’s largest playhouses. With stage and auditorium completely uncovered, the weather adds a thrilling contribution to every performance, making each visit a truly unique experience. For more information of the individual productions visit www.openairtheatre.org

The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe Kensington Gardens, 8 May - 9 September 2012 A dazzling and dramatic retelling of C.S. Lewis’ classic The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe opens in the historic grounds of Kensington Gardens this summer. In a unique collaboration this major new production is adapted by award-winning director Rupert Goold; staged by threesixty, who gained international acclaim for their first production, Peter Pan, and directed by Rupert Goold and Michael Fentiman. Staged in the state of the art threesixty theatre tent, this visually stunning live production will use threesixty’s ground-breaking surround video and enchanting puppetry to bring to life the magic of Narnia in one of the world’s best-loved stories

Leonardo da Vinci: Anatomist The Queen’s Gallery, Buckingham Palace, 4 May - 7 October 2012 The largest ever exhibition of Leonardo da Vinci’s studies of the human body will be shown at The Queen’s Gallery. Leonardo has long been recognised as one of the great artists of the Renaissance, but he was also a pioneer in the understanding of human anatomy. He intended to publish his ground-breaking work in a treatise on anatomy, and had he done so his discoveries would have transformed European knowledge of the subject. But on Leonardo’s death in 1519 the drawings remained a mass of undigested material among his private papers and their significance was effectively lost to the world for almost 400 years

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Expressions of Movement The Grove, 1 May - 30 September 2012 London’s country estate, The Grove is opening its gardens and grounds this summer to celebrate and champion one of the most exciting and dynamic art forms - sculpture. The curator, Virginia Grub has invited 24 sculptors and artists, to create pieces which are loosely inspired by 2012’s two great events: The Queen’s Diamond Jubilee and the 2012 London Olympics and Paralympics. The result is an engaging and surprising collection of 57 pieces together titled Expressions of Movement. Come and interact with the sculptures whilst enjoying lunch or tea at the Grove. All sculptures and paintings on display will be available for sale.

Universe of Sound 23 May - 8 July 2012 A virtual Philharmonia Orchestra will take up residence at the Science Museum. An immersive digital installation will employ the latest digital and interactive technologies to reveal the inner workings of each orchestral section and invite the public to interact, create and explore. The project will include a live performance of The Planets, the commission of a new work to allow the audience to develop their own musical journey, and workshops

Dickens on the Thames: a literary boat trip Boat tour with the Museum of London, 5 May 2012 Spend an afternoon boating down the Thames, discovering Dickens’ London and the river at its heart. From Festival Pier to Greenwich and back, experts Alex Werner and Tony Williams (co-authors of Dickens’s Victorian London) will uncover the key sights of the author’s life and works - from the blacking factory he worked in as a boy to the Limehouse pub in Our Mutual Friend.

London’s Pleasure Gardens Pleasure Gardens, June 2012 For 200 years Pleasure Gardens were central to London’s social life. Long before the festivals of today, they were places where people converged to meet, debate, listen to music, watch shows, admire paintings and walk and drink. LPG will recreate this festival atmosphere as an ever-evolving creative playground for both young and old alike.

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Sol Melia’s ME, The Strand Opening May 2012 The ME London (a sub brand of Spanish company - Meliá Hotels International) is a cutting-edge, cool and contemporary hotel designed by British architect, Sir Norman Foster. ME London is located next to Covent Garden and Trafalgar Square, in the district of Holborn. Upon opening, the hotel will comprise of 157 rooms and suites, including 17 suites and 1 ME Suite, 1 ground floor bar and 1 roof top terrace club/ bar with amazing views across London. The hotel will have 2 fantastic restaurants including an offering from hot, American Steakhouse STK. The property will combine the historic facade of Marconi House with a new Portland Stone building and will feature a rooftop bar with views of Somerset House and the Thames.

Gangster Tour of London Various Locations, June 2012 The tour explores real life and film locations associated with London’s criminal underworld. Actor Stephen Marcus guides this tour around the infamous Kray twins’ stamping ground. Highlights of the tour include seeing the pub used in The Krays which is smashed up by the Maltese boys and the location where Vinnie Jones had his first day of filming for Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels.

Southbank Centre Summer Festival Southbank Centre, 01 June - 09 September 2012 Hundreds of international artists will converge on Southbank Centre this summer for its Festival of the World. Highlights from the UK include Bryn Terfel’s uplifting four-day celebration of Welsh heritage and culture; and Unlimited, the largest single program of commissions by disabled and deaf artists ever undertaken in this country. Installations by artists from around the world include the reopening of the Queen Elizabeth Hall roof garden and weekly food markets

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AZINE

LITRO MAG

WORDS GET YOU FURTHER LITRO IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY EDITOR IN CHIEF AND PUBLISHER: ERIC AKOTO eric@oceanmediauk.com

EDITORS: Mohsen Shah & Alex Goodwin editor@litro.co.uk

CONTRIBUTING EDITOR: KATY DARBY katy@litro.co.uk

CONTRIBUTING EDITOR: SOPHIE LEWIS sophie@litro.co.uk

ONLINE EDITOR: EMILY DING emily@litro.co.uk

EVENTS EDITOR: ALEX JAMES events@litro.co.uk

CULTURE & ARTS: JULIETTE CG GOLDING juliette@litro.co.uk

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LITRO MAGAZINE IS LONDON’S LEADING SHORT STORY MAGAZINE. PLEASE EITHER KEEP YOUR COPY, PASS IT ON FOR SOMEONE ELSE TO ENJOY, OR RECYCLE IT WE LIKE TO THINK OF IT AS A SMALL FREE BOOK.

LITRO | 115 WORK

‘Autumn in Paris; winter in Prague; spring in Amsterdam. It’s summer so here I am. I didn’t know if you would be here but I came anyway.’ - Stop Eating The Fruit by Sian Evans Page 07