David Forrest

David is a writer and spoken word artist based in Glasgow, Scotland. He predominantly writes flash fiction with occasional bouts of poetry. In addition to his written work David has performed at arts events, poetry slams and festivals throughout the UK - often with permission.  

David has a scientific background, holding a PhD in Experimental Particle Physics. Most of his professional work has been in the field of software engineering. His most unprofessional work has also been in the field of software engineering. 

David enjoys facilitating and encouraging cross-cultural dialogue, collecting and playing retro video games and reading novels written by poets. David dislikes awkward silences, hullabaloo and writing about himself in the third person but is willing to make exceptions depending on company. An unreconstructed millennial, his Facebook page can be found at http://www.facebook.com/davidforrestwriter.

An Excerpt from “Bad Prophet”

The old prophet never lied. He never spoke a mean word. He never lifted a hand out of anger or hurt another soul.
And in this small way he never sinned.

At the same time, the old prophet never told the truth. He never spoke. He never lifted a hand in love or helped another soul.
And in this way he never lived.

God whispered to him once. Ever since that day he could see the invisible. There were stars on neighbours faces and crowns on the heads of refugees. When people spoke in the present he could hear their past. He saw everything and told no-one.

The silent prophet could no longer separate spirit from his other senses. When he sensed a pull towards a person, it had the same gentle push as the wind against his back. A name had a sound to it, and that sound told a future. Surely, he reasoned, everyone could hear it. If objects glowed from the souls who last touched them then surely everyone could see the glow. And if they didn’t then who was he to call it so? In the past false prophets told the people what they wanted to hear. This prophet was neither false nor true; he told the people nothing.

The old prophet lived in an apartment by himself. There were no uncovered windows or mirrors on the walls to trigger his gift. Dusty old books lined the walls. Cupboards held only empty frames and empty notebooks. He wondered why people never spoke to one another. Why things never changed. And why God was so silent.

Read more of “Bad Prophet” in Solum Journal Summer 2022.