Liars' League

A Place to Dump Guinea Pigs by David Hartley

A Place to Dump Guinea Pigs MP3

Read by Greg Page

Heard his ‘eartbeat before I saw him and yeah I was excited but I was also like; ay up, a live one. What fun ‘n games we got now? Immortal? Hero? Or just someone badly lost?

It had been a while. The longest while. I’d figured ‘em all dead; that I’d long taken my last boat-load over. But why would I still be here? So maybes they’re all immortal now - one of Zeus’ millennial whims, some bizarre pact between him and a wronged lover or summat. But I’d have heard somethin’. Hades would’ve been over in a flash to sort that shit out.

Maybes there’s another way over my river, or under it, or around it that I don’t know about. Or perhaps they’ve all buggered off to Elysium. I even wondered if there was anyone left over t’other side; tempted more than once to row over and have a look. But, nah; if I was supposed to know, I’d know, and I’ve been stuck here thousands o’ years, what’s a few more? I ain’t interested in nowhere else to live.

Ticket to Ride by Elizabeth Hopkinson

Ticket to Ride MP3

Read by Sarah Feathers

They get on my bus at nine-thirty each morning. First bus they can board with their free passes; they’re not stupid. Azrael gives me a friendly nod as usual.

“Where are you off today?” I say.

He grins on all four faces.

“Senior Screening at Pictureville. Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Free cup of tea and a biscuit.”

He walks to the back where Anubis is saving him a seat. We’re not really meant to allow dogs on the bus except for assistance dogs, but I make an exception for him. After all, he’s only canine from the neck up. The rest of him is relatively normal, although he does have a tendency to drool on the tickets.

It's like a school trip at this time of day.  They all get on with flasks and sandwiches in their rucksacks, waving to their friends. The same old familiar faces time after time. Skinless Mictecacihautl with her mouth full of stars. Yama with his crown of skulls. Huie-nui-te-pō, elegant as ever in her gown of sunset. All laughing and chattering in anticipation of matinée theatre tickets and early bird menus.

One Day at a Time by Abigail Lee

One Day at a Time MP3

Read by Jim Cogan

My name is Dionysus, and I’m an alcoholic.

I’ve been sober, um … maybe three weeks now? To be honest, I can’t remember much of yesterday. West End’s crazy on a Saturday night, ain’t it?

I’m pulling your leg! Christ, keep your hair on, it was a joke. We’re not allowed to have a sense of humour in here, or what?

OK, I’ll keep it “appropriate”. Sorry. Sorry about that, didn’t mean to offend anyone. I know it’s hard. Harder than a fucking Welsh crossword.

What? How is that racist? You ever tried doing a crossword in Welsh? No? Then you bleeding shut it.

Sorry, the swearing. I’ll cut it out. And the shouting, yeah, I know ...

The Wings of Aengus Og by Sandi Leibowitz

The Wings of Aengus Og MP3

Read by Lin Sagovsky

She arrives at the park. She comes every day, if the weather’s good and she’s up to it. Thirty years ago there’d been no Socrates Sculpture Park (highfalutin’ name). It fronts the East River, giving million-dollar views of Manhattan. She’s more interested in the water, the boats and the shoreline than the skyline. She started walking here daily not when the sculptures came, but when the flowers did. Now it’s more like a garden. Her name is Margaret O’Brien. Like the actress? no one asks any more. Yes, she would reply, but only after I married my John. Before then I was Margaret Connors. 

It used to be an illegal dump. The first time she’d checked out the new park, it just had a handful of benches, very few trees and some hedges.  And of course the sculptures, which she doesn’t like, modern arty farty things they keep changing all the time, nothing pretty; sometimes Margaret’s not sure if it’s art or if someone left a tractor out there while doing some landscaping.  One time, though, there was a giant woman made of birdseed; she’d liked that, although the birds came every day and ate the poor woman away.  In the beginning the only flowers had been desultory begonias and impatiens. Bah. Not real gardening.

The Beginning of Wisdom by Raymond Walker

The Beginning of Wisdom MP3 

Read by Louisa Gummer

Inspired by The Garden of Eden by Jan Breughel the Elder (1613)

hurt 

hurting 

huuuuuurting

alone

alooooooone

afraid

afraid

* * *

pain has eased 

or

used to it

can’t move

exhausted

* * *

 

The Divine Committee of San Miguel el Grande by Benjamin Verran

 The Divine Committee of San Miguel el Grande MP3

Read by Clive Greenwood

Clouds drifted across the sky, and somewhere out in the scrub a coyote howled into the night. In the town of San Miguel el Grande though, everything was still and silent - until a figure detached itself from the shadows, and desperately urged an old donkey towards the open gate. And so it was that on the seventh day after his arrival, God left town.

The Almighty Father had ridden in late one afternoon in August. He arrived unannounced, guiding his mount into the town square and heading straight for the Church of Santa Maria, where he came across the old parish priest, Father Ignacio.

          ‘Good day, padre.’

          ‘Good day to you, friend. What brings you to San Miguel?’

          ‘I thought it was time I paid another visit. It’s been quite a while.’

          ‘Have you come from far?’

          ‘Oh, quite some distance.’ God smiled a little to himself at that.

Latest event: GODS & MORTALS, Tuesday 13th September

We've been to the mountaintop, consulted with the Divine and LO! we have returned with mighty tablets of stone upon which are graven the names of the following stories and authors!

WINNING STORIES FOR GODS & MORTALS

A Place to Dump Guinea Pigs by David Hartley *NEW AUTHOR*, read by Greg Page
The Beginning of Wisdom by Raymond Walker *NEW AUTHOR*, read by Louisa Gummer
The Divine Committee of San Miguel el Grande by Benjamin Verran *NEW AUTHOR*, read by Clive Greenwood
The Wings of Aengus Og by Sandi Leibowitz *NEW AUTHOR*, read by Lin Sagovsky
Ticket to Ride by Elizabeth Hopkinson, read by Sarah Feathers
One Day at a Time by Abigail Lee, read by Jim Cogan

We've got a sassy Satan, a Yorkshire Charon, the Irish god of poetry and love Aengus Og, the Almighty himself in a Mexican prison, Dionysus at AA, Baron Samedi on a Bradford bus, and, of course, guineapigs. We will also have a divine selection of brand new books to win in our heavenly book quiz, plus sweet treats.

Doors open at 7pm for a 7.30 start and it's just five talents/shekels/pounds sterling on the door (cash only). Seating is first come first served - so it's an idea to get there a bit ahead of time if you want a good table - but if you have a party of five or more you can reserve a table by calling 07808 939535. 

Be there or suffer the Ten Plagues of Egypt!

The venue is downstairs at:
The Phoenix
37 Cavendish Square
London
W1G 0PP

(The Phoenix is five minutes' walk from Oxford Circus tube station, which is on the Victoria, Bakerloo and Central lines). Map here