Room 2D

More orphaned artwork, this time some full-page drawings by Hardcastle that featured in mid-range Janus. Beautifully drawn, these are largely self-explanatory so I shan’t labour the message. Firstly, this one from Janus 47, billed as ‘a Christmas treat’ entitled  The Cult : Next, from Janus 55, is  Yearning : And finally for this week, from Janus 57 (‘a heart-warming winterscape’) is  Whispering Snowflakes :

By regular correspondent and poet M.B. of Grimsby from Janus 58 On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, A paddling on my little derriere. On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, Two smarting cheeks, And a paddling on my little derriere. On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, Three tearful tannings, Two smarting cheeks, And a paddling on my little derriere. On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, Four blushing bums, Three tearful tannings, Two smarting cheeks, And a paddling on my little derriere. On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, Five burning bots, Four blushing bums, Three tearful tannings, Two smarting cheeks, And a paddling on my little derriere. On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, Six stripes a-sizzling, Five burning bots, Four blushing bums, Three tearful tannings, Two smarting cheeks, And a paddling on my little derri...

Story by R.T Mason from Janus 42 The subway station was ultra-modern, spacious, brightly lit, and of course spotlessly clean. A far cry from the London Underground or the New York Subway, with not a sign of graffiti marring the sparkling walls. For naturally here in this Socialist State no one would be so antisocial as to wish to deface public property. And if by some faint chance someone did he would only do it once. A clean new train drew quietly in, its doors sliding smoothly open. From the first two compartments came a party of teenagers, 16- to 18-year-olds, laughing and chattering but at the same time orderly and well behaved. Socialist youth, disciplined and self-disciplined; no London punks here. There were perhaps 20, all in casual summer clothes, the boys in open-necked shirts and shorts, the girls in blouses and skirts or light dresses. They all carried rucksacks. There was an excited buzz for the school year had just...