dark humour, diary, featured, fiction, funny, Hell, people, short story, writing

Interviews with the dead

I awoke early this morning knowing I had to interview some people today for the new post. I don’t think any of them had actually realised they were dead yet.  It is notoriously tricky coming to terms with being a living, breathing entity. I don’t have to tell you all that, after all you are doing it right now. All those stages of physical and mental progression and regression, doubts, successes, tackling love. Then, all of a sudden you find it’s over, done. Not surprisingly it can take many years to resolve the issue in your head that deadness (yes that is what we call it) does not have the immediacy to it that one would automatically presume. Awareness of being awake and alive does not come to us instantly, death is much the same. I spend much of my time trying to get people to wake up to the facts.

So back to the interviews. The first candidate had lovely shoes but had an annoying habit of sniffing after he finished a sentence. When he made a point that he was particularly proud of he licked his lips as if savouring the words falling from his gob. Forgive me if I appear hypercritical or unforgiving but I have being doing this work for a long time, perhaps too long. Making decisions about employment round here is a skilled job. If you are aware that you will have to have to put up with these little foibles for eternity you best be the most patient person in the dead world or just avoid employing people at all.  They aren’t the worst of it though. At least they are trying to do something valuable with their time.  Those who aren’t seeking employment generally spend their time drifting around looking for family members for reasons I have yet to fathom. They only visited twice a year when alive (birthday and Christmas – I know, the irony) so why this becomes so important once dead is a mystery to me. Seems to be a misaligned superficial sense of belonging. I was explaining about the first candidate, ultimately he lacked the experience of his predecessor. You must allow me these digressions, after all, we do have till, well, forever.

My name is Phelan Tweed, talent management specialist in the dead world. You may know this as heaven or hell if you are one of those ‘believing in stuff’ types. Quick fact check for those not yet in the know, everyone already existed in heaven and hell simultaneously. It’s called earth. It is surprising that most of us didn’t work this out when it was relevant and yet we spend most of our time in constant astonishment and horror at the wonderful and most terrible things that happen there. The thing is, in the dead world it’s just like earth but more monotonous, because its forever, so you can take your time to achieve things. It’s not quite as hilly which is good because we have a lot of pensioners here. Ironically people are less risk averse, once they work out that the worst thing that can happen already has. It is not uncommon to find fragile gentleman white water rafting on a weekend.  You can’t exactly end up more dead, can you?

The role we are aiming to fill here is security. It’ a pretty easy role. Stand at the gates, let people in, check they are properly dead (usually they are, but sometimes you get those special cases and they get turned right back round). You get a nice office and sometimes Janice brings biscuits in. We can usually tell who to refuse entry to as every couple of minutes their whole body jumps 2 feet as if they have been electrocuted. It’s very disconcerting having a conversation with someone in that position. Sometimes they turn up with the paddles still attached. Big giveaway.

It was a shame to see Pete retire. He had been at the gates for a lot of years. He had some kind of mid life crisis I guess and started attending poetry slams in the hippy quarter. Think he found his calling, I mean, he already had the beard.

So we were still after a replacement. I had a whole list of people to see but each of them was an extra level of foible that I could hardly deal with. The next lady ended her sentence with both a raised inflection and a barely but definitely audible ‘mm hm’ as if to emphasise her point. Crossed off the list. The next chap was a decapitation. I don’t wish to appear prejudicial but it simply wasn’t going to work.

Most people don’t realise that you get here how you left there, injured, old, missing body parts. There are no body refresh options. Although there is a black market in spare limbs if you are into that sort of thing. Hence the reason you may see an elderly gentleman, ambling round with a beautifully manicured hand, or a child with a fully grown male leg attached. They look like children, but they just inhabit that form. Some of them are older than me and the language that comes out of them is shocking I have to say.

Even as a talent management expert, dead land is a hard sell for employment, there is no salary or pension. You take the job till you feel like doing something else, and on it goes indefinitely. There are very few perks, apart from a vague sense of superiority over the Neanderthals and the beaker people. Of course they are here too, moping around in the kind of primitive way you would expect. Sometimes I feel a pang of jealousy towards them. They don’t know they are primitive, they can’t know they are dead. They just are. How I wish I could just be. In fact the very thought left me in a dark mood that even Janice’s biscuits couldn’t lift.

I must admit I dismissed the remaining candidates today. It is no great inconvenience to them or to me. There will always be another day, another role to fulfil. Perhaps one day you will join us If you can get past security, maybe mention my name. I am always looking for new talent.

This section was first published in Voidspace zine as a flash fiction piece entitled Frimmelstein’s diary and is the inspiration for Hell is other people. Acknowledgments to Katy Naylor and Voidspace for the initial prompt.

Christmas, dark humour, funny poems, poems, poetry, writing

A Christmas poem

A tangle of wires and musty glued pasta reindeers

Tumble without ceremony from the loft hatch,

It is still July

Christmas started so early this year it was 

called late Christmas 

or mid Crimbo for its proper title

People stand next to pseudo sheds and punt a tenner

For a weak lager in a festive glass

Which you can keep if you like

But no one wants the memories

They scoff down large sausages

Which are German

And made of minced yuletide

Festive gin flavoured gin ruminates under the stairs

In a dark space, fermenting like a bright star anise

a seed of crumbling blackness

We post cheap cards round the street

Hoping the neighbours aren’t in

Christmas day last three seconds of paper storms,

a Sunday roast and a hangover from bonfires

the satiated family in a celebratory limbo

Settle down and lick chocolate bunnies,

Halloween haunts the bulbs of Spring

Wrap themselves into impossible knots

And refuse to light us up

dark humour, diary, featured, fiction, funny, Hell, humour

A special place in Hell

I really should have started with a proper induction into Hell Inc. Of course we want you to feel welcome so please be reassured, there is a special place in Hell just for you!

Hell Inc formerly known as Purgatory holdings is a unique business based in the fiery depths of God knows where (literally). How do you get to be part of this fabulous company I hear you ask. Well, to assist you I have created a series of FAQ’s to resolve any queries you might have.

FAQ’s for Hell Inc

What opportunities are there for promotion?

We are always on the look out for talented sadists and torturers, it is a dying skill, literally! Submit your CV to our Manager of People and Persecutions and we will give it due consideration. Expect long delays in responses times (this is Hell after all)

Annual leave and holidays

It’s fine to take time off whenever you feel like it. and subject to business needs. The fires must be stoked daily however and this is non negotiable so ensure that you have appropriate cover.


We are an inclusive organisation. If you wish to grown horns or hooves feel free. We have a zero tolerance approach to discrimination. We aim to treat all employees with equal contempt. Our standard uniform comes in red and…red. White and gold are strictly forbidden colour palettes.


Each employee is allocated there own hovel to live in. It is acceptable to burn down other people’s hovels but not your own.


Yes of course! take liberties, we encourage creativity and innovation.

Reward scheme

Notice a colleague who is particular evil or skilled in torture? Great! Why not nominate them for a red letter day? Mr B the CEO will consider all applications on a case by case basis.

Leaving the organisation

Sadly we are unable to accept resignations, once you are in you are here for eternity. Sorry (not sorry).