Cherrypicked stories
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If I had a coat of arms, this text would be inscribed upon it.
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- 906 reads
The Suitcase
University had cleared me out. I had debts towering over me like obelisks and only two pairs of underpants left. I wore them on alternate weekdays, inside-out at weekends.
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- 1168 reads
I took the pen
I took the pen That filled those forms. Marriage and divorce. Then stood on a safe balcony With a spring turned summer too quickly Steam coming off the hill below Swallowing the trees
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- 609 reads
Sunshine
Jimmi Patel left the house at an unaccustomed run. Not quite out of condition yet, he thought, but bloody near it.
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- 1648 reads
Track 15: Bingo Master's Breakout by The Fall
200 words.
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- 1 comment
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- 1996 reads
Silverland V
Anna too was in candlelight. She trod softly around the room because quiet would help José sleep more soundly in the next room.
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- 2031 reads
Silverland IV
Anna sat with her hands folded in her lap while the two policemen filed in and stood either side of the door. She could feel her pulse fluttering in her throat and moved her head slightly to ease it.
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- 993 reads
Silverland III
“He came here again! On the very same day he dared to show his face here again! I didn’t let him through, he stayed out here in the shop, but I don’t know how he could dare!”
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- 1034 reads
SIlverland II
Peter was reading, or something. He’d muttered something about “re-evaluating some maps” while they were still lying in bed, about half an hour ago. Sara had let him go, but not very willingly.
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- 1163 reads
Silverland I
It was a Ford Falcon. The engine was cooling, making tiny noises that echoed in the narrow road.
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- 1175 reads
I have always wanted to dream of flying
I remember that bodies pop when they land and I would explode like some sort of unholy watermelon. Pips and pitch strewn across the childrens play area.
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- 696 reads
Playing it out for the camera
Keith is married. Or is he? His fiancee seems to think so but then she's on her way to Brussels in an Easyjet. Alone.
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- 676 reads
Track 14: Space Junk by Devo
200 words.
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- 2 comments
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- 2456 reads
The Road of Dust
Welcome to the Beginning...
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- 533 reads
These Walls
A poem about the barriers we put up, crushes and wooden planes.
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- 1874 reads
The Black Pointy Hat
Not that the scarecrow minded how he looked; he was, after all, just a scarecrow...
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- 1296 reads
THE QUEUE MASTERS
Queue for bread, queue for milk, queue for sex. It's the great British tradition after all. Empires were built on it!
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- 427 reads
Dance Dance Revolution
The tramps have started grooving. I do not approve. When they bodypop It makes me itch. I saw a vagabond in a tweed coat Spinning on his head Making his damp trilby go all flat.
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- 789 reads
The Fridge
A short story about the fridge that never killed me.
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- 1665 reads