A Blink of the Screen by Terry Pratchett Read Free Book Online

their heads. After poking around inside the cab and finding the little ropes and ladders they wandered away, arguing.
    When they had gone the gnomes crept out of their hiding places and gathered round Rincemangle.
    ‘Even Moor is only a few hundred yards away,’ he said. ‘Let’s spend the day hidden here and we can be up there tonight!’
    The gnomes lit fires and settled down to cook breakfast. Many of them were wondering what it would be like to live in the country again after so long in the town. A lot of the little ones of course – I mean, even littler than the average gnome – were rather looking forward to it. But they all knew that there was going to be a lot of hard work before them.
    Early next morning a poacher, coming home for breakfast, told his wife he’d seen a lot of little lights climbing up the slopes of the Moor. She didn’t believe him, but perhaps you will.

KINDLY BREATHE IN SHORT, THICK PANTS

    B ATH AND W EST E VENING C HRONICLE
, 9 O CTOBER 1976
    The passage of time has blurred what possibly motivated me to write this, but it was probably after hearing one too many half-baked ideas from one too many half-baked politicians, who are always at their worst when trying to be mater, while always subtly getting it wrong. They’re still doing it
.
    A message from the Rt Hon Duncan Disorderly, MP, the new Fresh Air Supremo
    Good evening. [
takes deep breath
.]
    As you will no doubt be aware, Britain is facing an air crisis of alarming proportions. In some places supplies of fresh air are reaching alarming prop— no, I’ve already said that … crisis levels. Why is this, you ask? [
Goes to chart behind chair
.]
    For years we have been assured of regular supplies of fresh air blown in from the Atlantic. Unfortunately the demand is exceeding supply. More people [
Pokes small black figures on chart
] insist on breathing, which means less air for everyone else.
    [
Taps chart firmly with stick
.]
    Your Government has been well aware of the problem since about lunchtime, as a result of which I am talking as new Fresh Air Minister now instead of chairing the House of Commons tea trolley sub-committee. Even we politicians have to breathe, you know – ha ha – though of course some of us breathe slower while others breathe faster.
    While it is true to say that people in South Wales and the industrial Midlands are being allowed to breathe for only eight hours a day, while Scotland and the South have ample supplies of fresh air, a redistribution would be prohibitively expensive.
    A working party is, however, and in strict accordance with Government policy, considering legislation to compel those in Fresh Air Surplus areas into wearing gas masks connected to bottles of potted smog. This is democracy.
    Meteorologists tell us that the wind must blow at a hundred miles an hour for the next three months to top up our fresh air levels. In the meantime, what can you do?
    Here is how you can help:
    Breathe very slowly. Ministry staff will be calling on you soon to demonstrate.
All pumps, fans and windmills are banned – penalty £400 – so that supplies of fresh air can be diverted to essential industries. Remember – it takes four million cubic feet of air to make one car tyre, and two thousand tiny bubbles to make a cubic inch of carpet underlay.
Avoid heavy breathing. Have a cold bath instead – sorry, I mean have a good rub-down with spit. Ministry cats will be calling on you to demonstrate.
Put a brick up your nose.
The air you exhale can still be used to inflate balloons, tyres, to warm your hands and cool your porridge.
    If we all follow these simple rules we will be able to stick our chests in with pride and say that British suck and ingenuity has won the day again. Thank you. [
Breathes out slowly
.]

THE GLASTONBURY TALES

    B ATH AND W EST E VENING C HRONICLE
, 16 J UNE 1977
    Actually, I’m rather proud of this one, which has some truth in it. I distinctly remember picking up the first of the