{"id":27843,"date":"2007-02-01T16:11:09","date_gmt":"2007-02-01T16:11:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/?p=27843"},"modified":"2013-09-10T16:14:27","modified_gmt":"2013-09-10T15:14:27","slug":"tom-bartlett-short-story-competition-2007","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/?p=27843","title":{"rendered":"Tom Bartlett – Short Story Competition 2007"},"content":{"rendered":"

Day at the Seaside<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

I had just arrived in Hastings. The only open eatery I could find was a gaudy, modern restaurant with lighting that could blind a man. No doubt, some sort of homing beacon for the proletariat. I took a deep breath and entered.<\/p>\n

As it was breakfast time, I ordered a pair of kippers, devilled kidneys and a pot of Darjeeling from the pimple ridden youth at the counter.<\/p>\n

\u201cWot?\u201d It spoke.<\/p>\n

I repeated my order slowly enough for, surely, even the French to understand, but\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cWe only sell Mc…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMc?!\u201d I interrupted! \u201cMc? \u2026This, young man, is England! And an Englishman doesn\u2019t eat Scottish<\/i> food, not even if a chum were to dare him!\u201d<\/p>\n

My nerves were shot by this attack. I needed to steady my self. I reached for my trusty Briar, but soon realised that it would not be enough. The Meerschaum was soon filled and placed between my trembling lips, but as I went to reach for a match\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cNo Smokin\u2019 in \u2018ere mate.\u201d<\/p>\n

Aghast, I turned a fled, thrashing my cane at anyone who dared get in my way. I took the first train back to London. To recover from my day at the seaside, I took a room at the Dorchester. I have not been able to leave.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The only explanation<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

My urge to know why was becoming unbearable. I decided to take the risk of offending and asked the well dressed gentleman with the hair lip and furrowed brow as he nursed his stout.<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me. I don\u2019t suppose you could tell me why the people in Hastings look, well\u2026just that little bit weirder than other people?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell sonny,\u201d he began, \u201cYou\u2019ve asked the right person. Don\u2019t get me wrong, I\u2019m not one of them, but I have been watching them for years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh I wasn\u2019t suggesting that you are\u2026er\u2026what do you mean \u2018them<\/i>\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwitchers of course. Human spotters. Aliens my dear boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAliens?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yes, this is the best site for them outside the US. They come from all over the Galaxy; there are Kaglenians, Dritakanoids, Heblozobes\u2026all sorts. Have you noticed that Hastings is full of people who\u2019s skin just doesn\u2019t fit properly? \u2026Alien Twitchers, the lot of them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA small part of me is thinking that you can\u2019t be serious\u2026but I have to say, it all makes sense now\u2026the woman at the laundrette, the butch..\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe BUTCHER! Ha! That\u2019s him my boy, he\u2019s the one who makes the suits for them all.\u201d<\/p>\n

From that moment, the urge started to subside as the pieces fell into place. Years later, I have made it my life\u2019s work to watch the watchers. The top of the voyeur chain. So, next time you are in town, take a look at the man with the wonky shoulder and club foot, he\u2019s probably taking one at you.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Day at the Seaside I had just arrived in Hastings. The only open eatery I could find was a gaudy, modern restaurant with lighting that could blind a man. No doubt, some sort of homing beacon for the proletariat. I took a deep breath and… Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":27,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[153],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27843"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/27"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=27843"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27843\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":27844,"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27843\/revisions\/27844"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=27843"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=27843"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.bohemiavillage.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=27843"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}