Dread, dread, dread. The forest is dark and full of autumn, chewed over by winter frosts and snows. There is a crunch to it as the sun sets behind the traveller making her way up the mountainside to the refuge … Read the rest
A Short Story – In which there is a death in the family.
Keith Kinsey gets out of his Mercedes. He takes the air. There are olive and orange trees around the front of his father’s house. There is mangrove … Read the rest
Samuel plays closely with himself, away from his parents who are arguing about money again. He plays soldiers, he is both sides, he wants both sides to win, he wants both sides to lose. He has no sisters or brothers, … Read the rest
George Rugley refuses to talk about the house on the green in the village of Wallington. Save for a petition to have it demolished and the ground on which it stood since 1899 concreted over, George is adamant in his … Read the rest
The small, flying people with the big ideas have come back to where I live again. It’s unpleasant watching them, it’s unpleasant hearing them. They are back at the windowsill, my windowsill, and they are trying to get … Read the rest
They took Mum off to the Cyborg factory yesterday and I wasn’t even at home to see him go away. I won’t be there when he gets back, fixed, tomorrow.
Mum is now just about six feet tall and smiles … Read the rest
“How did we lose that leverage dearest? Which way are we going to tip the scales? How are we going to capitalise from the bottom of a pit?
“The pit’s a deep one with the emergency services about to arrive. … Read the rest
Stasis is never wanting to be wrong, or right. Either way it doesn’t matter because people change their minds about things like that all the time anyway.
Unless they have revenge in mind that is.
At that point they know … Read the rest
Once upon a time a vampire came to our block.
We thought he was scary and evil.
He won our trust.
(Although one of us didn’t trust him)
We all became the best of pals.
Then he ate some of … Read the rest
“Carry me quickly to the last place you remember us being happy together,” was the requirement that Davis had written on the paper that I took from the envelope on the day we buried him.
Too late, as ever with … Read the rest