The International Writers
of Guy Block
It was his 56th Birthday.
Block strode through the dull corrugated roofed, glass and brick
walled tube that Hopemouth University entitled a corridor with
a sense of purpose.
Nothing would get him down today, the sun was shining, though
you could hardly notice it in this intestinal passageway, and
Guy had cancelled all his lectures. He was about to make his escape.
A day off.
And he was in for a treat.
Nevertheless, he could see an even more purposeful stride on Prof Laura
Lowry as she came towards him with her young features set in anger. Pity
thought Guy; if she could bear to remove the permanent expression of misery
from her face she would be quite pretty. Mid 30s with strawberry blonde
hair, yes she had a lot going for her, but she still maintained a look
that one would nominally only get from licking piss of nettles.
"Prof Block, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded
"Well, its a corridor, one uses it to get from A to B, or in
this case from the lecture hall to the main gates" Guy snorted wittily
"You know what I mean, Prof Block, why have you cancelled your classes
today?" she asked, standing in his way.
Guy sighed; still nothing will get him down. "Because I can and I
have" he answered.
Clearly this was the wrong answer for his departmental colleague for after
a harrumph she started a lecture of her own on him, but Guy wasnt
listening. A beautiful young girl out on the grounds had distracted him.
She was laughing and frolicking with some friends and swaying her long
blonde hair about as if it was an advert for shampoo. She arced her back
up to catch a Frisbee and Guy was treated to a wonderful view of the curve
of her slim figure and the delicious bottom encased in tight denim. She
flashed an immaculate toothy white smile as she caught the object easily
and prepared to throw it back.
"Prof Block? Prof Block? Really!"
The sharp and loud words of Laura Lowry snapped him from his reverie.
"What?" Guy asked with innocence
"Oh for heavens sake, why dont you just go and fuck her Prof
Block?" she snapped with an air of sanctimonious glee at catching
him out. She tapped her left foot slightly as she waited for his reply,
his apology. God this felt good. "Why dont you just go and
fuck her?" she repeated louder this time for passers by.
"Because I already have" replied Guy with a wan smile.
Laura Lowry quickly reddened and with an involuntary twitch of her mouth
she hurried off flustered and embarrassed to the sounds of a passing Prof
Wests loud garrulous chuckle.
Content, Guy turned to the window to see the girl wave and blow a kiss
at him, to which he duly returned.
Yes Block old boy, still got it.
Leaving the University, Guy immediately felt free and he quickened his
pace as he trotted down the hill to the car park. He wanted to rid himself
of the walls of Hopemouth as soon as humanly possible. Today is such a
bloody great day.
at the car park waiting for him was his birthday present to himself.
An immaculate, lovely Jensen V8 Interceptor, a classic model from
the 1970s, its white paintwork gleaming in the late morning sun.
It was a sad day when Guy traded in the MG, but this car was an
absolute dream. Hopping in he fastened his seatbelt, revved up,
flicked the newly installed CD and sped off, kicking up gravel as
the sounds of Jethro Tull blasted out the good vibes as he made
Guy was going to celebrate his birthday by having lunch at his favourite
pub, The Queens, which perched magnificently atop Hopemouth Hill.
He couldnt wait for his birthday treat. It had been a good start
to the day; he had wangled out of lectures and had received his presents
in the post. A new study on Byron and Dennis Potters Casanova on
DVD from his on/off wife Francine and some hideous painting from the terrible
twins Jeremy and Jemima which depicted Guy or Daddy, Francine
or Mummy and several stick thin figures in short triangles
which were helpfully highlighted as Daddys special friends
He had even received a card and a letter from his estranged daughter Rhiannon,
which brought an almost manly tear to Guys eye. She had been a 70s
lovechild from a rather tempestuous relationship with a girl he shared
a pad with called Angelica who for a long time Guy had thought was the
one. But that was in days of innocence before Guy realised that
man simply cannot live with women and that safe sex is best practised.
Still, Guy was very fond of Rhiannon, and would often have a lump in his
throat when he heard the Fleetwood Mac song she was named after, so he
never really regretted having the lump in his trousers for her mother.
Being 56th was not bad at all. Guy hated turning 50, but he really felt
like he was settling in to his age, and its not like his love life had
receded, which was Guys biggest fear. No, he was like Mick Jagger,
he happily told himself. Its nice to emulate your heroes.
He could still pull the girls. For sure, sometimes they got the upper
hand; there were always bitches that played on his randiness to get their
own way. Guy blamed the parents. If there was one thing he had learnt
about girls was that some are daddys girls who will manipulate anything
and everything to suit themselves. Still, there were always the independent
girls who knew the rules of the game as well as he did and enjoyed the
fun. Rather like the young girl with the Frisbee today, Guy thought and
made a mental note to arrange a rematch.
On one occasion there are the hard to pin and downright odd ones. Like
for instance, that cutie from Doncaster he had recently bedded. She was
lovely and fun and enjoyed the game, but a little too much. Guy recalled
with horror the night she lay in the crook of his arm and suggested a
long-term relationship! He nearly had a stroke! And there was only one
kind of stroke Guy Block enjoyed! With a shudder at the very thought he
turned The Tulls A Song For Jeffrey up higher and relaxed
himself into enjoying the ride. The Jensen was a wonderful car and he
was really enjoying the power he felt as he raced along the country lanes.
Leaning into his jacket pocket Guy pulled out his cigarette case and lifted
out a carefully rolled joint to smoke.
It was his birthday after all.
Lighting up, Guy became reflective. He could never understand what made
women tick. Francine had left a little caustic note with his presents,
liking him to the legendary lovers presented, Byron and Casanova. This
appalled Guy, for one thing he never had syphilis or piles like those
two did! Nor did he ever commit incest! Byron did for his sister and Casanova
enjoyed a dalliance with his own daughter. Nevertheless they are held
in high esteem and romanticised by young ladies who wish that such dandified
bucks would come along and sweep them off their feet. Maybe thats
where Guy fitted in. They should be grateful he isnt pox ridden
at least. Still, it didnt do to analyse.
Finally he had reached his destination. As he mounted the hill he was
licking his lips at the thought of the mighty steak and ale pie and vintage
bottle of wine that awaited him. He entered the dark and oak beamed room
and spotted a beautiful girl not unlike a young Catherine Deneuve waiting
in the corner. He began to lick his lips once more at this gorgeous vision
and their eyes met. The girl paused for a brief moment before breaking
out an amazing pleased to see you smile and shouting "Guy darling
where have you been?"
This was his second present to himself. Her name was Abbie, a reader in
the English Dept and his current girl.
Yes Block old boy, still got it.
© Mark Cunliffe
It was a crisp September morning with the summer sun still hanging
in the air, abetted with the nice breeze that signified that autumn was
round the corner. It was 1974, and Wendy Lampkin stepped off the train
at Hopemouth station
Love Games Chapters Three
She was a phantom of delight
Guy Block hated tutorials.
A long spring afternoon was laid out in front of him with nothing but
a depressing wave upon wave of snivelling students demanding his full
and earnest attention.
It wasnt fair.
As Guy Block walked briskly across the windswept concrete square that
was optimistically called a piazza at an incredibly early
hour of the day he knew that what lay ahead for him did not bode well.
Block: Guy Block gets some libido therapy
was a crisp January morning at Trenton University.
All was normal
Guy Block knew it was going to be a bad night out.
Fiction in Dreamscapes
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