Tag Archives: fiction

Aug 05 2016
12 Comments
Writing

Enough

“…that’s when they said I should leave.” Mike searched the bottom of his glass.
“Hit me again, will ya Sammy?” he pushed his bone-dry shot glass towards the man behind the bar.

Sam popped the top from the bottle and poured another shot.

“Cheers,” he said, scooping up the drink. “You just can’t trust them. None of them. Not a single one.”

Sammy raised an eyebrow.

“Not you Sammy. You’re alright. Hit me again.”

Sam breathed deeply and poured another shot.

Mike nodded in vague appreciation.

“It’s the others.

Hit me.”

Sammy considered it.
He considered it long and hard.

 

icon-grill-ted-strutz

This story, my weekly dip into trying to write something creative, is part of Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. If you’ve taken the time to read this far then I thank you but please take a few more minutes to go read some of the other wonderful entries.

 

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Jul 29 2015
46 Comments
Writing

The Collector

Kevin was a collector.

It had started when he was 7. His friends had amassed an impressive stack of baseball cards and whilst Kevin wasn’t sporty, the thought of collecting excited him.

Not wanting to become a sheep, Kevin chose his own road. It was unusual to collect discarded cigarette butts, sure, but to Kevin, each held a unique story.

Perhaps it was this sort of behaviour that led to Kevin living alone (or perhaps it was the ferocious addiction to pickled onions?) but he didn’t mind. These days he prefers spending time with his collection of bottled sunshine anyway.

This piece is submitted as part of the Friday Fictioneers group writing. I hope you’ve enjoyed it. If you did, make sure you go read the other entries this week! Or click this link to read more of my silly stories.

in-the-light

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Jul 22 2015
20 Comments
Writing

The wooly tale of Dennis Snugtop

Dennis Snugtop wore the snazziest knitwear known to man. He was never happier than when the days grew shorter and the air turned colder. Whether he was sporting a cardigan, tank top, sweater or scarf, Dennis could be spotted a mile off.

“There goes Dennis,” people would say to other people that were unfamiliar with persons dressed in bright coloured winter wool all year long. During December, January and February his fashion sense made everybody smile.

In June 2012, Dennis Snugtop was suspicious by his absence. He was later found dead, having drowned in a pool of his own sweat.

Thank you to everyone that commented last week, sending well wishes. They were most appreciated and apologies that I didn’t get to thank you all individually. I’ll do that next – and hopefully make time to come read all your stories that I missed due to job hunting!

This piece is submitted as part of the wonderful Friday Fictioneers. You can find all the information you need at Rochelle’s blog, where you’ll also find 100 new stories from other talented writers every week.

unnamed

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Jun 17 2015
30 Comments
Writing

Silenced

Ubinox was patient.
Ubinox was smart.
Ubinox was lithe, agile and keen.

High above the Grand Hall she waited; fingers and toes gripping the light fittings as she sank silently into nothingness.

Shadows stretched across the empty room as the wise old grandfather clock, standing as it always had by the ornate double doors, beat out a steady rhythm for them to dance.

Ubinox watched.
Ubinox waited.
Ubinox didn’t flinch, not even when the chimes signalled 8pm and the doors burst open with a surge of gay abandon and a chorus of cheers.

At 8.05 the cheers were silenced.

I have my doubts whether you’ll see what I see, but perhaps after reading and looking again you’ll find Ubinox lying in wait. This piece was written for Friday Fictioneers. 100 words per story, 100 stories per week.

hyde-hall-light

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May 28 2015
30 Comments
Writing

“Gah!”

“What is it?”
“What do you mean, ‘what is it?’ Don’t you like it?”
“It’s… well, I mean it’s, erm… it’s unusual.”
“You don’t like it.”
“No, no. No I mean, I didn’t say that. It’s just… different is all.”
“You hate it. I should have known.”
“I don’t hate it. But I don’t not not-like it.”
“This is just like Christmas ‘08 all over again.”
“What is?”
“This is.”
“Is it?”
“It is. God, this is so you.”
“Wait, what? It’s supposed to be me?”
“What is?”
“This!”
“Typical! Why do you always have to make everything about you?”

pleisiosaur_

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the freshly published Rochelle. Join in the 100 word flash fiction fun or simply go read the other entries here.

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