Monthly Archives: August 2013





John’s head pounded rhythmically against the desk. He lifted his neck and looked around. The four other members of his corner office sat at their stations and carried on doing whatever it was they were doing.


Finally his hands came to rest upon the keyboard and through blinking eyes he focussed on the screen in front of him. Numbers danced across spreadsheets and letters climbed on top of each other in documents all the while his right hand guided his mouse cursor around the screen. Twice it hovered over the database icon. Three times it clicked SAVE and finally it came to rest on the window hidden behind the plethora of Microsoft Office applications.

John scrolled through his personal emails looking for anything he hadn’t yet replied to.

His eyes darted to the pristine white iPhone laying flat besides his mug of tea as he continued to scroll, click, open, click, scroll, click and close emails. His left hand reached forward and unlocked his phone and with a deft tap of his finger he jabbed at the Twitter icon.

The timeline rolled past his eyes at breakneck speed, information barely registering as his eyes flitted between the phone and the screen in front of him. Just as quick as he had started scrolling, he stopped. The timeline exhausted.

John’s attention turned to the monitor. His emails had disappeared and in 5 new tabs along the top of the browser his favourite bookmarks had been opened.

He stopped for a moment. Had he loaded these? He must have. They weren’t there before. He began to scan the page, his gaze bouncing around the text in a scattered F formation and as he reached the bottom of the screen he kept going.

The iPhone was now tightly in his grasp and the inane grins of his Facebook friends stared back.

The office line rang.

It rang,

and it rang,

and it rang.

The four other members of this little corner office sat at their stations and carried on doing whatever it was they were doing.





Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The tree

He knew it was going to be a bit of a squeeze, but Tom knew he could do it. Barry, was less than confident.

“Don’t do it. Seriously. I’ll give you the five bucks.” Barry checked his seatbelt for the 3rd time and thought about a daring leap as the car sped towards the fallen tree.

Tom replied by narrowing his eyes and pushing the accelerator to the floor.

“Tom, please, I did physics, remember? You said it wouldn’t pay off in the long run. Well I’m telling you now. Physics say this car will NOT fit under this tree!”


Posted as part of a 100 word photo prompt by Friday Fictioneers.



I stand alone

I’ve been here for years. Unloved. Unnoticed. That’s me. 

Nobody ever asks how I’m feeling. No one ever asks what I want. It’s just take, take, take. So much noise, so much chaos. Hands clamping around me, legs running around. Sirens, shouting, panic and relief. Then it all stops as quickly as it began. Once again, silence.

When they leave, I cry. I’m not ashamed to say it. Tears roll down my cold, red body and form tiny rivers that trickle forever onwards down the street. Once a sparrow danced and bathed in my tears. They soon stopped after that.


Posted as part of a 100 word photo prompt by Friday Fictioneers.


Tagged , , , , ,


Martyn was a lean man, both in appearance and with the truth. Though he was easy-going and approachable it was wise never to ask about or attempt to enter his garage.

The neighbours often spoke about his penchant for DIY, and in particular his wonderful patio. It was noted that he must be a perfectionist of sorts due to the number of times he had relaid it over the last year.

Martyn’s wife was a forgiving sort, her frizzy hair a metaphor for the way she approached her life. One morning at 2am, having broken the unwritten rule of never drinking orange squash before bed, she awoke to find Martyn in the bathroom on his knees meticulously scrubbing the floors and walls.

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,