Remembering Adrian Firth

A very short short story I wrote earlier in the year and also originally posted on Stormfront.

I was scrolling down the news feed on my computer when I saw that Adrian Firth had died.
Adrian Firth… I recognised that name. He’d been a local organiser for the British Party. The southwest region, I think. Yes, the link went to the BP’s homepage. I right-clicked and opened it in a new tab, then continued scrolling down the feed.
Nothing but the usual horror stories:
‘Man jailed for displaying “racist” St. George’s flag.’
‘Woman gang-raped in South London.’
‘Whites now a minority in the majority of UK cities.’
I could only look at so many at a time. It was too depressing, too infuriating.
Adrian Firth, I thought. He’d only been thirty- or forty-something, hadn’t he? That’s all he looked like in his picture that was always used on the BP website. Only a few years older than I am. It makes you think. We could all go at any time. I wonder what he’d died of… I’d have to read the article and see.
Hey, I know what that sound means. An alert from Line ‘Em Up on my phone. I opened the app and read it.
‘Congratulations! You have earned enough credits for five free games! Play a game now to claim them!’
Cool, five free games. Can’t let those go to waste. Better do them now before they expire. I’ll read the article in a bit…

Whoops, that session went on a little longer than I’d planned, over two hours…
That was the problem with Line ‘Em Up. For such a simple game about matching coloured blocks before the timer runs out, it was incredibly addictive. So addictive, in fact, that, over the last six months I’d been playing it, I’d become the fourth-highest-ranked player in the world. The only trouble was how much it cost to keep playing. I dread to think the amount of money I’d spent on it in that time. That’s why you had to take advantage of those free games when they came along.
Okay, back to the BP website.
Forty-two. He’d only been forty-two, it said. I thought as much. Poor guy. No age at all.
The piece was short. It looked to have been written by a fellow activist. It detailed Adrian’s service to the Party and said he would be sorely missed. No cause of death was given.
Another good nationalist gone. It was so demoralising. We were too few by far already.
Under the article was a comments section. Currently it had three comments expressing condolences. That wasn’t very many; I’d have to add my own, as soon as I’d thought of something meaningful to say.
One of the commenters was Adrian’s widow, Anne, politely asking for donations towards the funeral costs. Adrian had lost his job a few years ago on account of his BP activities, Anne wrote, and as such she didn’t have enough money to pay for a headstone. Poor woman. I’d have to make a donation. I’d find my wallet later and sort one out. What an ignominious end for such a decent patriot. Someone like him at least deserved a headstone with which to be remembered.
Another alert already?
‘Complete four games in the next twenty minutes to earn 1,000 free credits! Hurry! Limited time only!’
A thousand free credits? That was good enough for at least ten games, fifteen if I played well. It’d save me a few pounds as well. Best get it done quick…

Twenty minutes later and I’ve played my free games. Did pretty well. Got to level thirty-one on one of them. Over two thousand credits in the bank. Can’t stop now. I’m on a roll.

Damn! So many bad games in a row. Just my luck. I’ve lost pretty much all my credits now. Oh, well. Time to get them back… At least my ranking hasn’t slipped. Still number four. One day I’ll break into the top three. One day.
Oh, dear. Getting tired. Should really make that donation. Better yet, I should phone the Party up and get active. Go leafleting. I’ve always fancied that. Then again it’s pretty cold this time of year. Maybe in the spring. That’s when the elections are anyway, right?
What’s the time? Damn! I’ve been missing the match. Bloody Line ‘Em Up. It’s the second half already. Time to get a drink and put my feet up.

Man, what a shocker that was. Three-nil. I don’t know why I bother watching them. Useless. They always lose.
What was I doing? Oh, yeah. That article. Hmm, don’t know if I can spare enough for a donation right now. Spent a bit too much on my phone earlier. Maybe next week. I’m sure Anne will still be taking donations then.
Right, time to get those credits back.

God, it’s two a.m. already. Time flies when you’re having fun. Too tired to do anything now. Time for bed. Tomorrow. I’ll remember to visit the BP site again tomorrow. I’ll call and ask about helping out then, too. And make that comment on the article. And maybe a donation, if I have the money. After I’ve spent all my daily credits, of course. Can’t let those go to waste.
Now, just one more game before bed…


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