Assize Matters

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A Fairy Tale

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Once upon a time there was a grand historical building, in the centre of a small but beautiful Wiltshire town, called the Assize Court. For many years the processes of law were carried out within the stern Bath stone walls of the court, and many folk were sentenced in the dock.  Some walked under the Ionic pillars to freedom, some to death and some to endless captivity.  All human drama was there.  Tears were spilt, reputations were ruined and children were left fatherless.  Justice was seen to be done.  But then one day, as is the way of things, it became obsolete; the last sentence was delivered, and the doors were closed.  It stood, slowly decaying, for year upon year; a strange symbol of dereliction in the beating heart of the town.  And now, and then, good folk devoted much energy to finding new hope and purpose for the building.  Nothing came to pass.  The people were met by brick walls and stonewalling.  The people gave up the fight.  It crumbled.  Years, and yet more years, passed.  Good folk tried again.  No joy.  More brick walls and stone walling.  It crumbled.  Again, passionate people rallied, and tried to make sense of it.  Again, brick walls and stonewalling.  It crumbled.  Until, one day, it had crumbled beyond all hope.  At which point the land was used to build houses and offices.  And yea, verily, as some had prophesied, someone made a large pot of gold.  And lived happily ever after.

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by Gail

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Carnalville

Carnalville

Devizes Carnival tonight! Watch out for Roger…!

Roger’s libido had increased significantly in his eighties, in inverse proportion to the decrease in his hearing and cognitive ability. The long suffering Betty had tried, despite her arthritis and utter disinterest in such matters, to accommodate his needs; there had been cringeworthy forays in to swinging, unusual items appearing in the shed and furtive gropings on the bus to Swindon.

“Carnival tonight” said Betty, one September in the late afternoon. She was baking buns for church on Sunday, and a warm waft drifted through the house and in to the garden and the Devizes air.

“Carnalville?” said Roger “What goes on there?”

“Oh you know. Dancing girls. Men in dresses. People standing on street corners. Sounds of pumping and banging. Drinking. Over excitement. Unwanted pregnancies. Rubbing up against strangers. The usual.”

Roger liked the sound of Carnalville very much indeed. An appropriate occasion for the Calvin Kleins perhaps. And an extra Viagra.

It was going to be a very interesting night.

by Gail