Friday Fictioneers: Lithium shame

Its been a week of recovery and birthdays, gradually the cold is ebbing away and day by day I’m improving, mentally and physically, but thanks to Rochelle for keeping this show on the road; A reason to be cheerful. Thanks to Rowena Curtin too, lovely photo, Im wondering where it is, probably America somewhere I’d wager. Anyway, best get cracking, so without further ado.

On Your Marks…

Get Set…


The Lane was a draw for mindfulness, yoga tourists and people who buy dreamcatchers. 

Recently a “mystical” Salon had opened; where one could immerse oneself in a gong-bath, have a hot stone chakra massage, and then drink someone else’s urine. Business was booming and Baba B-Lox’s shares were rocketing.

In Angola the lithium mine was churning out the element in spades and the bodies were being buried in unmarked shallow graves, around the back behind the equipment graveyard, the machines rusting with more dignity.

Baba Be-Lox, checked his shares. He could now afford that  motorised unicycle from the next door.

There you go, 100 words off the top of my head about the darkness behind this sort of thing.



  1. As I commented on Liz’ story, light and darkness always walk hand in hand and finding a balance between them is the ideal. Slave labor and bodies buried in shallow graves for anything has tipped into the chasm of evil.


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