Daniel Guy's Blog

by Daniel Guy The phone rings just as Helen White is about to leave her office. She’s had a long day, interviewing people for the Head of English vacancy at the university.   She wants to go home, but in the end she answers it. -   Sorry to disturb you, Miss White. It’s Mark Davis here. She recognises the deep resonant voice instantly. He’s one of the candidates she’d been interviewing that day.   - Hello Mark. - Look, I’ve just got home and realised that I might have left a large black notebook at the university today.   It may have dropped out of my bag in the staffroom.   Do you know if it might have been handed in?   I was wondering if the building was still open, I could possibly drive over this evening and pick it up. Helen didn’t want to hang around.     -   Well I’m afraid I’m just leaving now. I can ask at reception if it’s been handed in, and if it has, I’ll ask them to hold on to it.   But you’re coming back tomorrow morning I assume, for the second day

by Daniel Guy If you are weak then stop reading and go find something else to do.   This story could put ideas and maybe even voices into your head, and you might never be quite the same again. Still here? You’re curious. Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Who am I?   Some would call me the devil; others say I am the femme fatale to be found hidden in the minds of most men.   Jake – the guy sitting on the couch over there, tells me my name is Isabella. It’s a pretty name.   I don’t mind it all.   The trouble with Jake is that soon he’s going to be found lying dead on the floor of his bathroom, having asphyxiated himself.   It will be one of those embarrassing deaths that no one will want to talk about.   No one of course will imagine that I had anything to do with it.   Naturally I never leave any evidence. Look at him, slouching on a large black leather sofa in his large fashionable apartment in the city, overlooking the river.   He’s sharing a bottle of wine with h