Terrence Oblong
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My stories
Funeral
The spade turns and the soil lifts.
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- 3198 reads
Splat
If I were to jump that would be it. No-one could stop me. Three second’s shock and awe, then splat! Just like dad. Only his was pills. Dad didn’t go splat.
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- 2472 reads
Wild Orchid Rage
The smell of wild orchids on the table between us. Almost drowning out the smell of food. You pick at your plate, nervously. As if this were our first date. Or our last.
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- 1635 reads