The Blurt of Richard Davies

Chapter One

The

Blurt

Of

Richard

Davies

John

Curzon

Copyright © 2014 John Curzon

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means - by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise - without the permission of the author.

John Curzon asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this book.

Disclaimer.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Thanks.

There are many people who have encouraged and assisted me in the writing of this novel. Given the nature of this story it is best their names aren't associated with it. But you know who you are, and my gratitude to you is by no means diminished by my maintaining your anonymity.

Dedication.

This book is dedicated to the memory of my late mother. It was her love of reading which introduced me to fiction and eventually inspired me to try my hand at writing.

Wherever her soul is now I hope somehow she is aware of this work, and approves of what her love and determination has finally resulted in.

The

Blurt

Of

Richard

Davies

To whoever finds this blurt: My name is, or was Richard Davies. This, for what it's worth, is my story and that of an era I hope is now ended. As I quickly edit this journal prior to hardlocking it for good I find it hard to believe we lived and acted in the way I describe; yet we did. Still harder to accept my small part in what has happened; yet there can be no denying it.

You may wonder at my reason for leaving you this account. To be honest I'm not sure myself. Perhaps I'm seeking some kind of immortality; to be known as a chronicler of my time rather than an anonymous casualty of the events (The figures for the Crises casualties in the Federation of England, Wales, and Ulster are being 're-evaluated' again and hence unavailable; as they have been for quite some time. Eventually I'm sure it will be statistically proven that no one died or was injured.) Or maybe it's my way of coping. A displacement activity; an individual raging against the dying of the light. I could be hoping my narrative will become part of the record of how history was changed against all the odds and a better future wrested from a foreboding present; though at this moment the outcome remains undecided. Most likely it is a combination of all of these motives.

What follows began as a diary; written as I realised how life in the Fed was at risk of going even more badly wrong than previously: I felt the story of how the decline of our once great nation began to accelerate needed to be told. Had I realised then how events would develop I would have set down a far more detailed and comprehensive record; but how could anyone have foreseen what was to come? I find myself as dumbfounded as everyone else, and I was supposedly in the know. So imperfect as this may be, what follows explains the circumstances which led to this sorry state of affairs coming about. I've done my best to keep it updated as the events unfolded. I'll add this journal to the files described in the text which I've cached in a few dark spaces, and set to massblurt at random times, just in case... So hopefully anyone who finds this will know what really happened and get my undistorted account of it all.