Hey everyone – so I’ve gone ahead and recorded a pilot for the Death Of 1000 Cuts podcast. This is just a test run, to hear how it sounds, to practise recording it and putting it up, and to get feedback. I’m not giving this a big push as this isn’t a launch, per se. We’re still in beta and I’d love any constructive feedback from you on how I could make it better. It’s not the only format I’m planning to try – it would be good to chat to guests, maybe answer specific listener questions, etc.

Here’s the piece I discuss, if you want to look at it yourself, and if you’d like to submit, please read the submission guidelines. You can get in touch via the ‘Contact Me’ link on the right.

The Bone Station (by Ed)

Garth was standing behind a mahogany desk that spanned nearly the width of the carriage, bare except for a pair of beeswax candles that dripped down ivory candlesticks, their light catching on the medallion that hung from the man’s neck. All the other furniture and ornaments were gone. A bottle of home-brewed liquor – “Minister’s Oil,” Marion called it – was already open, filling the air with fumes, and as I entered Garth sloshed some of the pungent liquid into stoneware snifters.

“Here,” he said, thrusting one of the drinks towards me, spilling as he did. “Have a drink. Sorry I don’t have anywhere for you to sit – everything’s been moved to the new hall.”

I took the drink. “What do you want, Minister?” I said, knowing the answer.

“No time for pleasantries?” Garth didn’t look surprised. I didn’t say anything, and he sighed. “Well enough,” he said. “Your week’s up, Amos. You asked for time, and time you’ve had. I need you to make your decision.”

“You need me to stay, you mean?”

“I want you to stay,” said Garth. “But stay or go, I need you to make a decision. It was still autumn when we arrived; we’re now well into spring. Every day we build more houses, yet people still come back to the train to sleep and eat. As long as it’s here they will never lose their dependency of it. Either drive it back yourself, or I’ll send it away without you.”

“It’s not that simple,” I said.

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