brian cross
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I have 117 stories published in
10 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 104489 times
and 26 of my stories have been cherry picked.
Brian Cross
My stories
Three Mile Drove, Chapter Three, part two
THREE MILE DROVE, Chapter Three, Part Two Darren reached Ely a little after two o'clock, finding a car park close to the main street where the offices of Henley & Son were situated. As he left the confines of the car park, he was surprised to find himself thinking that the place exuded character and a warm charm; it seemed to stand defiant in the face of the isolated wilderness he'd just driven through. As if to emphasise as much he noticed the leaden skies had begun to lighten from the west and the heavy rain relent into a drizzle.
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Three Mile Drove, Chapter Three, part one
CHAPTER THREE Darren Goldwater had been feeling low, in fact about as low as he could recall. Even allowing for his all night drink and drug sessions, the aftermath had seldom left him feeling as dejected and depressed as this. He'd finally slit open the official looking white envelope that lay on the mat, but with all the enthusiasm of a production line operative on a grim Monday morning. He frowned at the contents, then ran his jaded eyes over the letter again.
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Three Mile Drove, Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO Tim Mcpherson saw the sign of the Fox and Hounds pub glimmering in the gathering darkness and felt a surge of relief, on days such as this it offered an inviting prospect, a proverbial port in a storm.
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Three Mile Drove, Chapter One
Darren Goldwater leapt into his Cherokee Jeep and headed for home, the last guitar chords of "Sultan's of Swing" still ringing in his head. It was as if he had a private stereo installed in the backwaters of his mind, blasting out music that he couldn't switch off, and it seemed to be getting louder by the gig. He wondered why his band never played their own music anymore, then cursed himself for raising a question to which he knew the answer. Nobody wanted to hear it anymore.
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Three Mile Drove, Chapter One
She should have been able to see her daughter playing on the flat area of dry soil that seemed to unfold like a drab, black carpet from the kitchen window, she might perhaps have heard her footsteps on the makeshift gravel path that bordered it -
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