Silver Spun Sand Stories
Various short stories
And all the while, the incessant sun, stared mockingly down at her - in all its motionless orange-red splendour from the top of the mountain - seeming to loom ever- large over her helpless body. (edited)
(Re-edit 05/03/2011) "We never really had the time to say goodbye, not properly, and that’s what was so hard to take.
(Edit) There we were - my sister’s boyfriend and me; and Monday’s washing, flapping on the line...
“It’s not all bad news; your condition is not life-shortening...There’s certain to be a cure in the next ten years, or so...”
It hit Julie like a sledge-hammer when her elder sister eventually lost a long-fought battle against cancer
“Happy Mother’s day!” she says, standing in the front-porch. “These are for you,” thrusting two balloons in my hand, tied with ribbons ...
IP. Based on a true story. You are what you eat, but some people are what they wear.
One year on, and the hospice in which my daughter was so wonderfully cared for, asked me to write a short for their magazine ...
Approximately 112 song titles, plus a few lyrics. Have attached discography for all interested ;-)
Meal-times were never quite the same convivial affair though, after we were rehoused in the October of nineteen-fifty-eight.
Painstakingly, technicians crafted a tailor-made mask – precise to every last curve and contour...
(Edit) If there truly was a 'god' up there somewhere, why was he putting her through this hell?
(Edit 19/01/2011) "Whenever you look up, there I shall be and whenever I look up, there will be you.’ Gabriel’s resolve, “Far From the Madding Crowd”, Thomas Hardy
You exchange a brief glance and it’s understood you both will sit it out,however long it takes.
Leaving the majority of streetlamps behind, she heads for open country, and glances up as bats flit here and there.
(Edit 17/03/2011) “... and when they were up they were up and when they were down they were down...
I remember that earth-shattering day like it was yesterday.
"And before you ask...yes, I have locked the back door and put the key under the flowerpot, for all it matters...now."
“I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be a fish...nothing else to do except watch us, watching them."
No ordinary client, nor ordinary venue...although I had been there professionally on a couple of occasions in the past.
Days such as today really fazed him...even bearing in mind this was Ashworth – one of England’s top three high security psychiatric hospitals.
You’re cruising along, quite nicely, thank you, and then she decides it’s time for the patter of tiny feet in the house.
Five years on, and although it only seems like yesterday, life has moved on, as it always will.
They said it might help some, if I talked to you, so I hope it’s OK. Pop was eighteen, Mom – sixteen, when they married, and I was three. Mom, little...
Just brushing your suit off, love; them undertakers have done a good job. I was going to say, ‘Hold still,’ but I guess I don’t have to.
You’re cruising along, quite nicely, thank you, and then she decides it’s time for the patter of tiny feet...
The day after the 'end of the world' was the last anyone ever saw of him.
The I.P. this week is to take a song title and go from there. Well, there are approximately 120 song titles here, plus a few lyrics for good measure. Discography attached, for anyone interested.
It’s not the dates that matter – it’s the space between them that counts. Andrea Parker MA 02.08.1968 – 31.12.2007
Never did like goodbyes, anyway, and we’ve already said ours; to the one person who really mattered.”
"Goldfish only have a memory span of five seconds.” “A few – that’s true, but others can remember too much..."
True to form, an earthmoving experience wakes me at 5.00 a.m.; my husband re-launching himself into our bed after taking a pee. Getting in and out of...
It was raining. Standing at the open French windows, a redolent wind blew a strand of hair across her cheek, and for a second she fancied there was a certain hint of Byzance in the air– Julie’s late sister’s signature perfume.
No ordinary client, nor ordinary venue...although I had been there, professionally, on a couple of occasions in the past. Nothing quite like this though...
His last night in Mumbai...eight o’clock, and he’d be on his way home...or so he told the barman on leaving, after a couple of drinks too many.
It was the summer of 1963. The Stones were in the all-important charts with Little Red Rooster. It was banned, by my dad, in our house. ‘Sexual undertones’, he reckoned.
"Well then, Mr and Mrs Daniels, I have the results of your tests in front of me, and the news is not good..."
(This true story inspired by Poetry Monthly) 'We are what we eat', some might say, whilst others argue, 'We are what we wear'.
You'll never believe this, but there's a tiny pond in our new garden...it was hidden by the shed...been so busy indoors since we moved in...
It's around lunchtime on Christmas Day, 2007, as we negotiate the maze of corrridors...an occasion I had been both dreading and looking forward to. She's smiling - sitting up in bed...resplendent in red, staying true to her star sign, Leo...
(Repost)... 'it's not the dates that matter...it's the space in between that counts' In loving memory of Andrea Christine Parker MA - 02.08.1968 – 31.12.2007
Mmm...this is nice; a roaring log fire, my favourite tune. Unexpected, at the very least...no, don't stop.