Filling the gap

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 2357 you were given some opening and closing words and asked to supply words to fill in the gap in the story. The original story was Melville's haunting

Bartleby the Scrivener, strongly recommended. The results this week were tamer than when I have set similar comps in the past, but this may be due, I admit, to the fact that my framework invited a thoughtful rather than a dramatic piece. I accordingly interpreted 'story' pretty freely, for your benefit. Susan Therkelsen, Adrian Fry, Frank McDonald and D.A Prince were good performers. The prizewinners, printed below, get £25 each, and the Cobra Premium beer goes to William Danes-Volkov.

'1 am a rather elderly man, or at least that is how you see me,' said God, pausing to fiddle with the remote control for his video screens. 'And so you think that now you can do things without me noticing.' The man standing before him winced, but said nothing. 'You might well look embarrassed,' continued God, his eyes suddenly levelled at the man. 'Everything you do, everything all men do, is known to me. That is the beauty of Microsoft; I now have access to the contents of just about every computer in the world of Mammon.. Timidly, the man asked, 'Then why have you sent for me?' Because although I am allknowing, I have forgotten my password. It is something to do with men, eight letters beginning with an aitch.' The man thought for a while, then

`Ah, "humanity".'

William Danes-Volkov

I am a rather elderly man, and the main drift of my thoughts these days is reminiscence. The past is more real than the world outside my door. What I did yesterday is beyond recall, yet childhood scenes are vividly present. I remember sojourning in Florence with my parents in the late 1920s, and the odd atmosphere caused by a red-bearded visitor. Mother was excited, almost frantic, urging the cook to produce her grandest dishes, Father subdued. Our guest talked torrents over lunch, feverishly, though as a child I couldn't understand a word. Mother's face was rapt. After he had left Father said to me — we were alone on the terrace — 'That was Mr Lawrence. He writes books,' His voice was unusually sad. Only later could I guess at what might have — must have — happened. Neither parent ever spoke of it to me, Ah, Mother! Ah, Father! Ah, humanity!

G.M. Davis I am a rather elderly man according to the Gregorian calendar. In my retirement 1 have been working on a mathematical system which would reduce my age. This week I tried something out on my doctor.

'What day is it?' he asked. Since it was a Tuesday I said, 'Ali, Thursday,' but then admitted that it was Tuesday.

'When were you born?'

'Ah, that's a difficult question,' I replied.

When pressed further. I explained that since time was relative I could not give a definitive answer. For example, if time was in reverse, then I had to wait until the death of King George V before I could be born.

*Do you think I'm mad?' I asked, but that word was not in a psychiatrist's vocabulary and he continued with his cognitive questions.

I thought of Immanuel Kant and the crooked timber of. . . what was it? Ah, humanity!' Gordon Gwilliams

I am a rather elderly man — though I can assure you that in many ways I'm rather younger than my years. I'm 5ft8, still have all my own hair (midbrown) and most of my teeth. I know these advertisements are supposed to be snappy but I prefer to waffle on — let you get to know the real me. Besides. I don't understand the initials — what is a GSOH — a good idea or something perverted? Please contact me to explain. Oh! Woman of my dreams, there's a quick brain and expert lover beneath this rather unlikely exterior. How can I convince you? All sorts of treats are on offer — a cruise down the Thames? A weekend for two in Brussels? Please send a reply, a photo, a brief message to my silent Ansaphone. Is there anybody out there? Man of my dreams would do. I'm lonely. Oh, humanity!

Lydia Shaxberd

I am a rather elderly man, 969 to be exact, and I suppose my time is nearly up, but we are a longlived family. I was a late starter, of course. I did not beget my first son, Lamech, until I was 187, so I was 369 before the first grandson, Noah, arrived, and it took him another 500 years to produce Ham, Shem and 1aphet. They are planning a surprise party for young Noah's 600th birthday quite soon, so I'm hoping to hang on for that. I'm giving him a carpentry set. The weather's always good at this time of year, so it will be a holocaust, or barbecue as they say nowadays. I just hope the young people will behave better than last time. If they go on like this I shouldn't wonder if the Lord God were to repent Him of having made them. Ah, humanity! Dominica Roberts I am a rather elderly man, but still capable of evil, violent thoughts, especially towards the young. Their music, their speech, the baseball caps and the extraordinary trousers, not to mention the flagrant immodesty of the girls. I find myself becoming thoroughly dalrympled at the mere sight of them, feeling that we have, ourselves, bred the barbarians who will sack our temples and burn our libraries. Yet I do not know them. And I do know that most of the outrage and misery in our time has been inflicted by older men wearing suits or military uniforms. When I confront my own prejudices. I despise them; yet they give me an energy I can no longer replenish from other sources. We all live in Plato's cave, fashioning our knowledge from flickering shadows, attaching our fears and wishes to them. Ah, the impossible hope of certainty. Ah, youth! Ah, humanity!

Basil Ransome-Davies

No. 2360: A to L

You are invited to incorporate the following words, in any order, into a plausible piece of prose: archaic, balloon, cynically, dreck, erstwhile, five, glum, Hindu, inasmuch, jam, khaki, loony. Maximum 150 words. Entries to 'Competition No. 2360' by 23 September.