AMP: Artists' Meeting Place and Resource Collective

Check out the artists, works and exhibitions at the Samson Projects Gallery: http://www.samsonprojects.com/
Thanks Alice!

For earlier Chapters and an explanation of this dreadful story, see blog: The Cardiff Grandma. WARNING: This novel contains fake Welsh.

In the previous episode, Peppet, as Wiggton, with the sought-after crate in his pocket and a rifle stuck down a pantleg, leaves the Cornishman behind in the bar...

The Cardiff Grandma Chapter 4c

He hailed a cab. It drove past him. He tried again and the second time the taxi pulled over and stopped just ahead of Peppet, splashing him a slushy mix of snow and dirt as it did so. Peppet climbed into the back of the foul smelling cab and barked his destination.

"Hotel ! th Street and Ave!"

Peppet was an unaturally suspicious man: he had to work at it. He didn’t like anyone knowing where he was staying --

Unasked, I point out that AMP member Laurie Notch has a mag, AFTAW, that will run ads for your gigs/shows: she has special editions for Hawaii, Northeast US and D.C. area (and those in the know know that means VA and MD). She is also soliciting short stories and artwork as well. Send her a private message. She and I are currently getting together readings of short stories on tape and live readings in Portland, Maine.
Those in need of a B&B in Seattle WA area expressly for performers should also contact me in lieu of the actual person untilI we get her on AMP as well. Hasta Luigi, Linda, Kentartist

a.r.t.o.
the "
american retard terrorist organization."
well it's this way.
this is the only homeland security recognized terrorist organization today. we have a contract on america.
our mission is to scare the bejezus out of the american public, easy huh?
hey
we are recording every cell phone call in or out(as you now know everywhere) for the next two years. recording, transcribing and posting to the nsa each and every morning.
we hired the christian right to transcribe your calls so please don't say anything about dick, they don't know the difference between your lovers member and the vice president, our boss. please be circumspect.

For earlier Chapters and an explanation of this dreadful story, see blog: The Cardiff Grandma. WARNING: This novel contains fake Welsh.

In the previous episode, in a NYC establishment with the bartender glued to the TV affixed to the wall, the mysteriously limping Peppet finds his prey…

The Cardiff Grandma Chapter 4b

“You’ve dropped something Mr Tresovian” Peppet said(with a rising intonation) as he reached the lone figure.The figure was amazed; how could this stranger tell that he’d recently imbibed another hit of acid just by looking at him? He had been sat minding his own mind and not drawing attention to himself… hadn’t he? Was the stranger some kind of DEA agent? Had they started to train ‘sniffer men’ to replace sniffer dogs? Why was the floor ablaze with burning leopards? What day was it? What planet? Where was his gun? All these questions immediately came to the figure's attention at the same time.

I can't help thinking this country (UK) has gone to the dogs...both of them!

For earlier Chapters and an explanation of this dreadful story, see blog: The Cardiff Grandma. WARNING: This novel contains fake Welsh.

In the previous episode, Ddwwchllyff offers microchips for the call girl's consideration as Wolfcastle motors towards town.

The Cardiff Grandma Chapter 4

The bar door opened and a short figure entered the room. He paused briefly and dusted the fresh snow from the shoulders of his trench coat. It had been snowing for hours now – this was typical weather for the time of year in Reykjavik. But this wasn’t Reykjavik and snow storms in Manhattan during April weren’t typical at all.

For earlier Chapters and an explanation of this dreadful story, see blog: The Cardiff Grandma. WARNING: This novel contains fake Welsh.
In the previous episode, skilled telephone work on the call girl's part reveals a connection to the CIA (Cardiff International Airport)...Probably.

The Cardiff Grandma Chapter 3b

Ddwwchllyff, who up until that point had been so animated, suddenly became badly drawn. The call girl couldn’t help but notice this rapid change in her employer’s mood. Miss Cassleberry wasn’t paid to notice things. She was paid to dial numbers, pass on messages and forget whatever she may have been party to. That was the only way to keep your job in her line of business. No, with her noticing things was purely a hobby. A dangerous one at that.

What has changed since now and the summer when I was eighteen?

What had changed between the summer when I was twenty-five and the summer when I was eighteen?

The summer when I was eighteen, I read "The Handmaid’s Tale" by Margaret Atwood in about a week. I picked it up again at twenty-five, almost seven years later.

I couldn’t read it. It scared me. It depressed me. I chalked it up to my close friend’s recent suicide— the woman in "The Handmaid's Tale" was trapped, and so was I, in my grief that I could not, almost did not feel allowed to, express.

Reading it now, I have the same reaction to it. But now I know it has nothing to do with my friend.

For earlier Chapters and an explanation of this dreadful story, see blog: The Cardiff Grandma. WARNING: This novel contains fake Welsh.

In the previous episode, Wolfcastle leaves Ddwwchllyff to the call girl: In the distance a dog barks as the lights of the house fade behind him.

The Cardiff Grandma Chapter 3a

Ddwchlyff finished playing with the dimmer switches and moved calmly back to where he was sitting before he stood up.

Miss Casselberry removed her coat with practiced hands and swayed long-legged across the genuine Shmeirutza carpet to the narrow door, and noticing for the hundredth time the brilliant organization of this small interior space, she withdrew a hanger.