Let’s Get Down To Work

I’m in the insurance industry. When I say industry I mean industry. 


Coming from the Latin word industria, meaning “diligent activity directed to some purpose,” and its descendant, Old French industrie, with the senses “activity,” “ability,” and “a trade or occupation,” our word (first recorded in 1475) originally meant “skill,”


Above of which I 100% knew as fact.  Completely untrue. 


I work in an office, and I do stuff. , other prospects. I will not dwell, I have no bad word to say, insurance isn’t fair, but neither is money and the stuff it buys. 


I  speak to people all day five to six days a week, and the one thing I’ve definitely come to the conclusion of, is that even though someone up top believes in the core value. It gets diluted through the corporate others. They basically churn it around, mix it up and make it glittery who have to work it financially into a machine which grinds it down to us through payroll basically something to do all day, and  to get the work done. We get paid to turn up to work to help customers,but I get the impression,  even this isn’t financially do-able. 


I wake up every morning, sometimes have breakfast, sometimes take sandwich, get a bottle of water, or red bull depending on the mood. I walk through those revolving doors (we have revolving doors!) and literally get through my day. But I’m not the only one, every one else has their morning rituals, snooze or up, that moment when they first open the eyes and just for a second have that feeling. Before you remember all of the good and bad of life instantly and move to complete your day with all the things that make you… you.


We all make up that collective; and handle things differently. We definitely don’t have enough time to spend with our customers though. But then sometimes you just have that good day when restrictions just don’t matter, and you just chat. Help. Cause that’s what I like, that’s what’s fun. I’m sure the word help stands for…



      M  P

 H E L P

 E       E A

 L        A T

 P       S R

          E  I




And that’s what I liked about today. Officially open for business. I’m here to help.



The Day The World Never Ended

Well it’s been almost a  year since I’ve put word to paper, a year gone wasted, a year gone learned.  A year in reflection, a year that was.  2012.  The year the world didn’t end.

Loosing people in reflection effects all in many ways, but we have to keep moving.  I find myself working finally… But it’s time to create that dream job… and prove to someone i’m the only one who can do it.

Well the blog needs a bit of regenerating… So that needs thought.  But hope if you get round to reading this.  You enjoy.

To all a goodnight.

Out on the Blue



The fields of Africa are burning blue.  Glistening fields of glass and technology spread kilometres wide across the breadth of an otherwise scorched plain.  Caretakers insuring the safety and power of those still in need of it, a decade at a time, life structured around skills and monotonous motions that keep the globe turning.  Towards the western plain just beyond the valley of the shattered Ethiopian badlands at the end of the 17th cycle, George Harris climbs SOL2891.

Carelessly positioning himself over the edge of the mostly inaccessible right hand corner of the furthest Sol Panel, facing west, he could claim the best view; he was told by his father as he grew up looking out to the blue.  He was now Twenty, with all the possibilities in front of him, and he found himself with one of the most prestigious careers one could find these days, a techy, officially still known as technician, was something you could only be born into.  From a life time of study within an infrastructure cooled to such perfect climate, to the journey out to the fields, the beginning of the greatest challenge, but ten years were still to come.  The heat glistens off his dark skin and beads of sweat often fall to gravity, light on his feet and small enough to slip through the compression plate that kept the solar panel together he sits effortlessly on the edge retrieving a picture from his pocket. George had a father, mother and a younger sister who was presently holding her fingers in her ears with her tongue out as far as she could reach in the photo. It was a memory shot, a moving image, and he laughed as he had every time he caught Meren pulling her ridiculous pose.  He placed the photo back in his chest pocket close to his heart and carefully zipped it up, it would be ten years before his replacement would be sent for orientation, eleven before he would ever return to the city of glass he called home.

1948hrs exactly, and the sun seemed as would crash into the earth, for the next hour the panels would go into cool down procedure and George would get an hour to admire the spectacular view.  When on the surface, it’s easy to loose sight of the city, and when inside, impossible to understand the beauty, but from this angle, at this time, from the corner of SOL2891, the sun would reflect with the sand and the entire city of Arkansas can be seen, a spire of crystalline glass reaching out to the heavens surrounded by accompanying spires at multiple heights as if each grown from the ground desperate for star light. From the ground you would loose sight, but from here you could make out the neon lights of the habitation spire, the dark blue from the energy core spiralling up into the clouds, and the faint amber glow from the surfaces city deck.  It had taken 98 solar years to grow the structure and go live, the architect who designed the technology for such attempt long dead before George was even DNA and entrusted with the keys to an entire kingdom.

“All it takes is one stone to bring down a city of glass” tales of persecution would agree, George turned and looked down to see “Hook” his trainer.  He looked tired for 30, he was Caucasian, but 10 years in the sun had scarred him brown as anything, he had obviously stopped shaving because of the dry skin but other than his shabby appearance he looked in order.  He tied his cord up to his belt and made the climb up the pronged ladder.

“Why say that?” George asked curiously, he had never thought of it before, but was also silently kicking himself for never thinking it, it made sense in metaphorical terms

“Because… you never thought of it” he replied as he managed to squeeze through the same compression plate. “You’re Harris’s boy right?” he swung out his sweaty scared, dirt covered hands, George returned the gesture and they shared a shake of hands.

“George, you can call me George” he stated, taking back his palm which felt as it had been vice crushed

“Not many techies, now I guess, had to be Harris. Found the sweet spot I see, careful you don’t touch the black” they both turned to face the centre of the panel where a 2m by 2m black panel was attached and spoke at the same time

“Disintegration”, returning the glare Hook smiled showing his teeth

“Get on boy!” he jeered out, giving him a heavy smack on the back knocking him forwards.  “Yeah, I knew Harris, when?  How long now, I must have just turned ten, he taught us when returning. That your old man eh? Done his tour what thirty year ago?”

“Yeah, yeah… Got back, that day started a family with me mum…” George hesitated “You have any plans, I mean when you get home?”

“I don’t remember it… I mean I remember my parents yeah, vaguely remember my brother” grinning and laughing

“He was this chubby porker; Mum was OC so he enlisted in the Police, always was a mommy’s boy… You heard of an OC Hook?”

“Sorry… Place got bigger, right after you left there was the arrival of Europa…”

“You know that was expected when I was 15”

“…And the excavation takes up more resources than ever, the Industrialist took power 6 years ago and have been running things since”

Hook shook his head, laughing, staring at the city.  So close by sight, so far by foot inaccessible by buggy.  In a straight line, in the best of conditions, due to the terrain, a jaggered set of teeth, spread steep and wide within a valley, it would take weeks to traverse to the citadel a task never been succeeded by anyone, but luckily George arrived by pod, an hour flight, one which Hook would take home.

“Industrialists, I heard, on the wireless, yeah, they seem ok.  From what I hear they wanna get back out there in the globe…” he thrust his hands up into the air, representing a sign he repeated their slogan “New jobs! New chances! A new world… and maybe even back up their…” Hooks finger pointing up to the sky

“After the Titan incident? No man, don’t think so.” Turning passing the last of his H20 over “They’re big in the desert, you know the sand collectors, they say they found an ancient air vessel”

“Whaaa, no way, you see it?”

“Yeah, it was amazing, a one man craft, an Airship brought one back from the north, who know what else they left behind, what’s hidden underneath”

“That’s where the trouble started” Hook sighed.

“Yeah, they think” George tuned to Hook, in surprise he had a cool bottle of H20 in his hand waiting, he’d been alone for the last ten years ever since the last technician left to return to the citadel, George struggled to remember who but couldn’t.  He was sure he remembered when he was 11, the commotion at the city gates.  He wondered his own return a decade from now, after training a replacement himself and how the world would have changed then.  The daunting shadow of isolation enveloped him whilst Hook was telling him of what he knew, would he be this kind in a decade, I mean they had just met but George had found him entertaining, and more curiously so, how did he know of such things in the fields. The sun had set, and now like fireflies in the distance, the city darkened, the ever so faint amber lights glowing ever so dim with the occasional pod moving around the spires.

“C’mon kiddo, got a few hours to go before rack time yet”  Hook dropped, grabbing onto the edge and leveraging himself down to a pylon connected to the ladder leading to the ground beneath, George smiled, he supposed he had a lot to learn from the old timer.


By the time he made it down, Hook had made it 30 feet in front and he had to sprint to keep up, coming round the corner so quick he felt as though he could of broke an ankle stopping so quick, a Steele bunker stood in front of him, like something from a history book he took his first steps beyond the doors out of the heat.  The power generated had enough spare to produce a cool breeze that matched his memory of his home city, but was a memory more than welcome in such climate.  Hook who had already retrieved a new liquid of some sort was already flicking switches and hunting through a pile of wires.

“The wireless, don’t loose the wireless!!  The last bugger was cuckoo when I got here; this connects you to the world boy.”  Hook held up what appeared to resemble a battered grill with holes in, adjusting dials, sound came out though nothing but static.  “It’s the sound of the world my man, it auto tunes, sometimes you get static…” a melodic tune broke through the fuzz as the older man kicked about wires and knocked a panel over head.  George as if transfixed moved closer and closer

“What is it?” he asked, turning with a tear in his eye to Hook.  Hook smiled, placing his hands down by his side, and then crossing them with an even bigger smile.

“it’s the past George, radio waves, signals, boucin off the earth, into space and back down to us… can even pick up transmissions too!” he said with a jolt making some adjustments voices came through…

“Shhzzzz over…

…Yes Read You… Commence delivery, Require Removal. Over…shzzztttt

…Yes. Artefact removal confirmed…air….vessel….shhtzzz” the signal turned back into the static that greeted them.

Hook watched George come down from his high, he could see all the questions brimming in his mind, and he saw George for what he was, because he was the same. Young, but old at the same time, heavy responsibilities placed on a well educated head, twenty but fifty in his own right.

“Come, sit, drink, we have about twenty minutes left before we have to do our rounds” George looked around the bunker “Don’t worry, ill teach you how to use all this stuff. It’s yours now”


Recently edited….

If you want to read more… get in touch…  Hopefully we can get it to print.