Monsters Take Many Forms

"Monster" can mean something different to everyone. Fear is very individual. A short story written for a Halloween edition of my school newspaper. Parts of this may or may not have happened to me in real life.


I stepped back for the sound of metal on metal, the rush of air and red paint. The 18:45 was two minutes behind schedule. I had savoured those...

Do you have psychic power?

Do you have Psychic power? Pick a word beginning with F Try to send the word to me psychically. I'm concentrating hard. Think of an image of whatever...

Street elf

Cycling your mean accounts and hit counts on iPhone blue nausea analytics of the same old thing when dusk comes light laving the grey flats a crack...

A possible creationist argument: All Creation looks like evolution

Thomas Edison said let there be a lightbulb and there was a lightbulb. That is how it happened didn't it because that is what creation means. No...

Hypo or The Journal of a Hypothyroid Male - Part Four A Post-Diagnosis Journal 2013

To a Christian Source 4/4/13 Please, please pray for me for thyroid disease (hypothyroidism); severe sleeping difficulties; depressive issues;...

The Trip - part 2

The Trip – part 2 “You must be Barbara Day,” said the lady at the motel as we walked in. At first I thought that I was special in some way – to be so...

Mornington-By-Mere - (07) Dulcet Tones (Part 12)

On Friday night Nathan left home with Chloe’s teasing following him out the door and he drove over to Dulcet Green to pick up Alex who looked marvelous and smelt even better as her perfume intoxicated him all way to Purplemere in the car. At Waterside they had brilliant seats and Kayleigh Parkes was amazing and they had a great evening and they both enjoyed it very much. Then on the drive back to Oak Dale her perfume intoxicated him all over again especially when he leant over and kissed her goodnight on the cheek.

Remembering Molly

This is from a series of prose vignettes I've written, all of which tie into one story. All entries from the series are semi-biographical, this one in particular reflecting a real situation and based on real people, one of whom was me and the other, a prostitute named Molly. It's rather long but I couldn't split it appropriately so bravo and thank you if you make it to the end!


Her grandson was at university


I am by no means perfect, but my wife

Jake Mutant - Chapter Four

Chapter Four Jake had been too tired to watch the stars or even close the curtains that night, his calves had ached and his ears had rung with all of...

The Club

Lights up on Eleanor walking through the front door. There is a table in the middle of the stage with 2 chairs. ELEANOR (yelling off stage to Ginger...

Hello, I'm Sam - Chapter Seven - Sunday

A week in the life of my son, Sam, told as if from his own perspective. Written in September 2015 .

The Blue Hour

Today again she will flick her fag butt in the gutter and walk off down Cleveland Street in the half light. She stands under a purple umbrella,...

Confessions - Pt.II

It took almost a minute of silence, as Father Joyce dealt with the shock of what he had just heard. He couldn’t believe that a Thompson, such a...

Confessions - Pt.I

Father Joyce took his seat in the right compartment of the confessional box, covered by a curtain separating both the two halves of the box and...

The Girl Who Never Had Birthdays

Once there was a girl, called Bertharella who never had birthdays. Now I do not mean by that that the girl had never been born nor do I mean that she...