tv3 (2)‘The Last Still Frame at The End of Time’ by Zoolon


The last piece of A4 paper ever floated by on the wind. It wasn’t long before it landed in the playground that once had swings, a roundabout and a climbing frame. Since the end of time the playground had become just rusty bent poles on messed up concrete. That didn’t matter as there were no more kids to play there.

An old lady walking her invisible dog found it. She remembered writing paper but not pens and ink or pencils.  She had no idea what trees were. Since the end of time the only things that were still upright were streetlights without any lightbulbs. Not having any light wasn’t a major problem as night-time was never dark and the sun never had to hide behind clouds like it did before she was born. She didn’t even know what clouds were.

The old lady had a name once, but not now. The piece of A4 paper fascinated her. Oblong and both sides the same shade of white. She asked her invisible dog if he knew what to do with it. Her invisible dog couldn’t bark let alone speak. He wasn’t much use.

Back home in her bouncy castle that never bounced anymore she laid the piece of A4 paper on the big wooden box she found the day that time officially ended. She had never got around to opening the big wooden box even though it rattled as if it had something inside.

If she hadn’t tripped and stumbled on top of the wooden box forcing the lid to open she’d have never found out what was inside. Even though she hurt her elbow and knees falling that didn’t matter to her. Inside the box the end of time forgot were diamonds, ruby rings, nuggets of gold and an HB grade dark blue coloured pencil with ‘Property of Peru’ written in small print on its side.

The  diamonds, ruby rings and nuggets of gold meant nothing to her. The thing was that in the fuss of her falling over the pencil tip had marked the last piece of A4 paper ever. A wiggly line in the top corner. She got to thinking. Deep thinking. It wasn’t long before she’d drawn a picture of her invisible dog. Just a sketch of what she thought he might look like. She showed it to him but he didn’t seem that interested. The old lady didn’t care. Without realizing it at first it soon dawned on her that she’d invented ART. She could hardly wait to tell her invisible cat when he got back home. Maybe living at the end of time wasn’t so bad after all.

Talking of ‘Clouds’ as I just was, here’s 60 second guitar recital I composed. Hope you like it;

Below links to my albums on Bandcamp;

Copyright © 2019 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.


daisy (2)‘One of a Kind’ by Zoolon

I was out early again. Poached eggs on toast to kick off a new day.  Per usual there she was. This time dressed in all-in-one camouflage combats and a Che Guevara black beret with a red star on the front. Tucked in-between her shoulder-top and her neck she had a full on Mickey Mouse cuddly toy. She spoke to him all the time like he was alive.  Her gentle sounding voice is louder than you’d think, so listening in is easy. It’s like she’s answering Mickey’s questions, only that can’t be.

I’d say she’s maybe twenty +/- a year. Has a perma smile. Everyone likes her. She looks like she should be on the front cover of a posh fashion magazine. Vogue is posh? I don’t really know these things.

Last time I saw her, it was a warmer day than yesterday. A crazy, off the wall long snow-white dress and one of those pointy cone hats princess’s in the Middle Ages had. I checked it out on Wiki. They’re called Hennin hats. This time it was a regular teddy bear tucked between shoulder-top and her neck who was asking the questions she was answering. I don’t think she wears the same clothes twice.

I got told that most days she starts out at the library. Makes a point of going inside to say hello to all the staff. She knows them all by name. They know her by name. Never borrows a book. Once they’ve all said hello back, she’s off down the high street. The charity shops and the cafes are the places she visits most. Says hello to the shop assistants and café staff. She knows them all by name as well. Once she gets a ‘hello’ back she moves on. On her travels, if she bumps into a dog she knows she lets whatever cuddly toy she has with her ask the dog a few questions. I’m not sure if she knows the names of the dogs. Probably she does.

Whatever place she stops at to say hello, she can’t move on until she gets a ‘hello’ back. OCD I guess. I also got told that all the library staff, the shop assistants and the café staff keep an eye out for her. Make sure she’s safe. There’re scumbags out there who might take liberties.

I know her name because I got told it. She doesn’t know mine. It’s good that so many decent people are looking out for her. She’s different from the rest of us. ‘Special’ in a good way. A happy way.

I didn’t compose this song for her, so I’ll dedicate it instead. My opening line, ‘How’s it feel living without demons?’ felt right for her.

By the way, I’d like to thank you all for visiting Zoolon on ReverbNation. It’s a decent platform to showcase music. I noticed today that I’ve cracked the top 20 and am at number 17 out of many thousands of artists in the ReverbNation UK chart.  A lot of that is down to you kind bloggers. Thanks again for the support ~ George.

All my albums are available at Bandcamp including my discography via the link below;

Copyright © 2017 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.



CUSHION4‘To the dark side of this mirror’ by Zoolon

The bus broke down halfway up the mountainside. The driver got the bonnet open. Steam came out. Even though he had a box of spanners he told us there was nothing he could do. He didn’t know when help would come because his mobile couldn’t get a signal.

Sat on the back seat of the bus alone was a mother feeding her baby. The big-headed bloke in the suit carrying a briefcase told her doing it in public was disgusting, just before he and his underlings, also in suits carrying briefcases, left the bus to do a bit of motivational team building at the top of the mountain.

After that the bloke with the posh voice in a fluorescent padded waterproof jacket with a hood, told the mum feeding the baby that she looked beautiful. Once he’d said that he and his mates, also in fluorescent padded waterproof jackets with hoods left the bus. I heard one of them say they had to leave as they were chasing avalanches.

That left just me, the bus driver with the box of spanners and a blind bloke who’d lost his walking stick because he couldn’t see where he left it. The three of us decided to stay with the mother feeding her baby because it didn’t seem right leaving her alone. She never told me her name but the baby was called Moonbeam.

After a long wait, a man dressed as a woman, leading a donkey knocked on the bus window to attract my attention. He said I could have the donkey as he was worried about keeping it any longer. I asked him why he was worried about keeping a donkey. He answered that it was because of the full moon tonight. Told me he turned into a werewolf on full moon’s and it was a certainty that if he kept his donkey he’d end up eating it raw come midnight. The donkey was called Ant.

He seemed pleased when I said I’d take Ant off his hands so that the mother still feeding her baby could sit on its back and me, the driver and the blindman could walk her back down the hill to somewhere safe. The werewolf, at the moment just a man dressed as a woman, was good with that.

Just before we said our goodbyes I told him that if he got peckish later on there was a big-headed bloke and his mates somewhere near the top of the mountain. He thanked me.

We got the mother, still feeding her baby, back home safe. She invited us in for a cup of tea. I had tap water as I don’t drink tea.

Moonbeam’s mum, still feeding baby Moonbeam, asked me if she was allowed to tell her own mum, her granddad and the lady who lived next door, that she’d been rescued from halfway up the mountain rather than say she’d just had a donkey ride home. I said if she thought about it she had been rescued. She said, “Cool.” I told her Moonbeam could keep Ant, but she might want to give him a more credible name. She said, “Neat.”

I meant to tell her she was beautiful like the bloke with the posh voice in a fluorescent padded waterproof jacket with a hood had but I forgot.

The next day I wrote her this song.

Copyright © 2017 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.