Cherrypicked stories
Planet Earth is blue 1
A story in 200-word chapters. Hiding in an asteroid, and the feel of the cold stone there.
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- 11 comments
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- 3611 reads
Float
Leave the house. Now. Out of the front door, turn left, walk ten paces along the pavement. On your right you will see a red Ford Fiesta, ninety-four plate.
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- 8 comments
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- 1557 reads
The night before the wedding.
The night before Vincent's Wedding
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- 14 comments
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- 5482 reads
Watching Emily Play...(I.P.)
as she danced amongst the bluebells...
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- 28 comments
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- 7076 reads
In the paper bag
I'm trapped inside this paper bag It's not a problem, just a snag I'm trying to remember how I got in here, to get out, now. It's dark and crinkly in this place
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- 1 comment
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- 1141 reads
Sutherland Avenue
City as plot and lyric and song
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- 2 comments
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- 1136 reads
Monsters 04: Session Two
You smile again, and this time, you don’t pick up the pad like you normally would. Instead, you lean forward and give me a new option.
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- 592 reads
The Blue Dress
Incestuously flushing....
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- 12 comments
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- 3428 reads
Fighting
I hear the shot go off. 'No, no, no!' My senses were cut off, my body went into panic. Then a strange sense of calm came over me and the situation became almost funny.
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- 4 comments
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- 1299 reads
Dr Bob
Dr Bob’s book “A Cure for Cancer?” has been flying off the shelves; the papers are hailing him a hero on a par with Alexander Fleming.
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- 4 comments
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- 1425 reads
Early Learning
In summer we helped mix swill for penned and snouting pigs the foul stink of fermenting dregs mashed in a zinc bathtub with a shovel, larger than life for two small boys.
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- 8 comments
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- 3329 reads
The Bullfinch (I.P)
Not about apples...
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- 15 comments
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- 3627 reads
LILLIAN AND THE ITALIANS.5
Carlo begins to fill in the missing years of her son's life over dinner with Lillian
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- 2 comments
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- 948 reads
Monsters 01: Quinn Artula
There are people all over the world. Some want power, some justice, and some...well, some just want you. They want you dead and buried just for fun.
Artifice
That day we wandered onto a film set - remember? Under the arch and through the bright sheen of the afternoon flickering off the river, in a moment smothered
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- 7 comments
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- 3486 reads
End of days 14 (Epilogue)
The final chapter. The pit closes, the celestial city appears and the world begins to end. All fine then (or possibly not).
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- 11 comments
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- 3754 reads
Voice in the Garden
Night in an isolated house and something unresolved.
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- 4 comments
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- 2030 reads
A TREK NEVER TO BE FORGOTTEN
It's very strange, the people you meet while walking alone.
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- 25 comments
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- 10577 reads
Journey To Hell
I struggled back to the phone box, only to find it occupied by a woman who clearly intended to spend the next two and a half hours talking absolute bollocks !
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- 4 comments
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- 1252 reads
I Can't Believe I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.
This now has a different ending to the one I originally posted. It's about a neurotic housewife's analysis of what she believes to be a superior spread.
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- 12 comments
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- 4688 reads
The Ancestors Breeze In
What is that windsong you're singing? I can almost hear you through my tears Just as you gust outside my window. Urban wind, but seeming to bring Tales of praries, mountains, valleys.
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- 6 comments
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- 2778 reads
The truth
I want to feel the past in my life but there's something
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- 11 comments
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- 5327 reads
Re-apply
Correction: this story is not included in My Baby Shot Me Down, a Blinding Books anthology, but you can still buy the anthology! http://blindingbooks.com/?page_id=350
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- 9 comments
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- 4640 reads
Risk Street6
moving backwards to go forward
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- 4 comments
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- 1319 reads
Heartsease
It was a bad time. I… Susan… That is, my wife, she… She died. Wife. Such a simple four letter word; looking at it, it doesn’t really seem to do justice to what she was.
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- 14 comments
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- 5520 reads
Sepia Days
A fleeting smile of recognition...
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- 28 comments
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- 8397 reads
Beachcomber's Love Song To The Sea
His sea trilby tethered with rope, hair threaded with underwater green. His sea breeches, a silvery shade of brown (fish-skin perhaps) washed by coral-fronds.
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- 6 comments
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- 1582 reads
Transmutation
Poem. inspired by Uz and Them, Tony Harrison
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- 11 comments
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- 3771 reads
31 Falkner Street (14)
The engagement
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- 1 comment
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- 838 reads
The Academy Award's Prayer
Our Godfather, Who art in Heaven’s Gate, Halloween frame by frame. The Lion King come, The Fly will be done. On Film as it is in Camera. Give us this day our Internet Movie Database
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- 9 comments
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- 2676 reads
A Private Grief
It's my party and I'll cry if I want to!
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- 12 comments
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- 2896 reads
There Ain't Gonna Be No World War Three, Chapter 13
13. Sibling Rivalry "WAS im NAMEN des TEUFELS -"
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- 1 comment
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- 709 reads
There Ain't Gonna Be No World War Three, Chapter 12
12. Jagdkameraden
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- 1 comment
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- 810 reads
Redondo Rose
She was seventy-four years old and the last forty of her years had been spent in total retirement.
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- 838 reads
On A Sunday Walk
An eruption of geese came yelling off the pond as if a bomb had dropped. Too soon for migration, more like a gang-fight or playground ruck, low and startled, almost in touching range,
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- 9 comments
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- 4539 reads
31 Falkner Street (12)
Good morning
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- 1 comment
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- 904 reads
31 Falkner Street (11)
Kath
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- 1 comment
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- 974 reads
The Bobtail
My fine-spun self is shrouded; Shielded from approaching storms, By guilders shade now tainted; Upon my gentle dancing form. The dark-ground is my comfort, Cupping my cavorting feet;
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- 8 comments
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- 2015 reads
LILLIAN AND THE ITALIANS.4
Andrew's business partner tells Lillian what has happened to her son.
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- 3 comments
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- 1218 reads
31 Falkner Street (10)
Just another day
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- 1 comment
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- 884 reads
Only A Little Lonely
It starts there in the quiet; in the quiet and the cold Descending like a shadow, seeping slow into my soul. Resigned and mute, I feel it come, a thief into my home,
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- 7 comments
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- 1574 reads
A Meeting
Fumbling fog-blind through the woods I felt a heavy shift, a movement nearby pacing me to its own rythmn. Wrapped in thick grey nothingness a breathing thing waiting now.
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- 7 comments
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- 3252 reads
A Little Help
“I am the APRS5000,the latest, greatest thing in domestic appliances".
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- 4 comments
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- 2322 reads
Saints Of Satan Chapter Eight
Before long we had reached the borders of the northern region, the tell tale signs in the wilderness confirming that we were nearing our destination.
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- 4 comments
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- 1205 reads
The Dare and the Dark
We’d been smoking behind the assembly hall for a while after detention - not talking much, just leaning up against the wall trying to pretend we were cool -when Jake turned to me with that annoying
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- 3 comments
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- 936 reads
Mexico
the love of a beautiful woman on a beautiful day lights up the dark years long after she has gone
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- 8 comments
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- 4235 reads
Now or Never 7
The tail-end of treatment and back into the big bad world
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- 4 comments
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- 1203 reads
Out Of The Mists Of Dreaming
She came not out of the golden skies of the mornings, but out of the heavy mists that haunted our dreams.
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- 2 comments
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- 1249 reads
Celestial Puppeteer
The devil never really need fear For good is good for which it adheres If right is wrong and wrong is right It's finally time to call this fight. A no holds barred, jugular throat spar
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- 2 comments
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- 1041 reads
31 Falkner Street (9)
‘Your road is really scary.’ Kerry told me. I felt insulted. ‘How is it?’
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- 714 reads
Counting backwards from ten
Anyone who's lain on a gurney and had nothing but a hospital gown between them and the knife will get the title......
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- 3 comments
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- 1681 reads
The Guinea Thief - Chapter 13 - the merciless
Jack and Delphine visit Robert on the prison hulk
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- 1 comment
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- 879 reads
Waiting for the Sun
The Santa Ana winds were thunderously howling on Venice Boulevard, but the slippery streets were nonetheless at ease with the silence of the moon.
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- 2 comments
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- 859 reads
Who'll Pay the Piper?
“Piper Alpha...one hundred and sixty-four missing...”
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- 19 comments
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- 4293 reads
31 Falkner Street (8)
My name is Ella and I am 31 years old.
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- 1 comment
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- 845 reads
Timeo Danaos et Dona Ferentes
While I alone traverse the walls
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- 1 comment
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- 825 reads
What would Junie B. Jones do?
"Mr. Jacobson sniffs little girls' bicycle seats," eight year old Benjamin Carter announced cavalierly as though the topic made for polite dinner conversation.
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- 4 comments
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- 3074 reads
31 Falkner Street (7)
Night out
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- 1 comment
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- 667 reads