Mr Jolly by Michael Stewart, published by Valley Press, priced £8.99

WHY is a mob of violent monkeys running across a hospital car park? Why is a man haunted by a childhood shock trying to find a live fish in a wood? Why is a marshmallow obsessive stalking the aisles of Morrisons? And why is God wandering through a fire exit, clutching a bag of beer cans?

Mr Jolly, Thornton-based writer Michael Stewart's first collection of short stories, is a remarkable anthology exploring the human condition and the absurdities and painful truths of modern life. Loneliness, obsession, fear, paranoia, loss and boredom are chronicled in 16 haunting tales.

Some stories end with a sense of the unresolved. There's the woman who finds her husband naked and dishevelled in a barn, sleeping off what she assumes is a night's boozing. Is the truth is more sinister?

Then there's the little boy running up and down the 606 bus. Has anyone actually seen him getting on or off? The only person who appears to notice him is a young woman embarking on a life-changing journey, who ends up going full circle instead.

The story I found most moving is The Man In The White Coat about the fall-out of divorce, leaving a boy and his father live gripped by a terrible sense of loss.

'You feel a lump in your throat. You turn back to the television. They're all stood outside the Tardis now. When Rose says goodbye to her mother and her boyfriend, to go with the newly-generated Doctor, your dad shakes with emotion.

We don't have to watch this, Dad. Should I put something else on?

You dad doesn't answer. He covers his eyes with his hands. His cheeks are damp. You're relieved when the theme tune starts and the credits appear.'

Each story has an eerie undertone and some, such as the tale of monkeys taking over a hospital, are chilling.

But there are stands of humour too. I liked the idea of a Western theme town in a dull Swedish suburb. And the angry gang of bald men braying on the door of a frightened man is the stuff of nightmares, but their reasoning is almost Pythonesque.

'Listen, I used to be like you mate. No, seriously, I did. I had long, shiny chestnut hair, almost reached my shoulders, used to use special conditioner and everything.

So what happened?

It's not worth it, mate, honestly. I've been there. You think you're being yourself, you think you're expressing your individuality, but what it is, see, it's selfish behaviour.'

In Story Without Meaning a nervous interviewer sits in a dressing-room with God, supping a tin of Tennents, prior to an In Conversation With that doesn't go to plan.

'He reached into his inside suit pocket and pulled out a packet of Benson and Hedge's. Is it all right to smoke in here?

Er, no, sorry, it's not. I pointed to the smoke alarm. I felt a bit foolish telling God not to smoke.

He tapped me on the shoulder. I hear what you're saying, cocker, he said, and took a cigarette anyway. He put it in his mouth and lit it with a cheap disposable lighter. So what if the alarm went off? They couldn't exactly throw God out of the building could they?'

Michael Stewart is launching Mr Jolly at Waterstones in Bradford on Thursday, May 26 at 6.30pm.

* Visit michael-stewart.org.uk

Emma Clayton