short stories

by

Made by Me

He had a little light lunch before they came for him. A slice of his favourite hickory smoked ham, some mature self-levelling brie and a crunchy red apple—sliced thinly through the mandolin as he preferred it. He washed it down with a cup of tea, made with the choice of leaves his wife brought with her when they married; that he had come to love over the years. Not too much for him these days; he didn’t need the energy at his time of life.

The doorbell rang the same chime she’d chosen, the last time they remodelled. When he’d moved to the seniors’ complex, they had been kind enough to send a man round to disconnect it from the old place and fix it up for him. The electrician was kind and helpful. “Anything to make it comfortable for you,” he said, “We want to make it just like your real home.”

“Grandpa. Grandpa. Are you ready.” The little girl squealed at him. Excitement he could hear in her even before he opened up.

“Come on. Come on. Are you ready?”

She came through the door in a bluster, hurrying him along gathering the things he’d placed on the little chair by the door in readiness for their afternoon’s adventure.

Continue reading →
by

Book Keeper

He moved it around every so often. When he found himself tripping over the pile of books on the floor one more time and he knew had to find some space. Books came, books went, that was his view. Some of them he even read. Some of them he didn’t, such was the obsession he had with his books. ‘One day I’ll read it’, he would say to himself and then a fad or fancy would wear off and some other passion would take its place.

Now and then Allan would do a charity shop run and amongst all the other trivia making that final journey out of his doors—stuff which had bubbled to the top of the discard pile—he’d have a ‘library’ clear out as well. Each time he found himself making a decision on the scruffy book, with the substantial brown paper covering (like no-one does any more, he told himself). He’d look at the last page of the story (without reading the ending of course, for that was a heinous crime) and see that it was over a thousand pages long and sigh, put it back on the shelf and tell himself that one day, he would make the time to do justice to ‘Gone with the Wind’.

Continue reading →
by

Passing Through

Topic: No One Can Know| Word Count: 1500| Genre: Thriller

Bedecked in black, she tiptoes across no-man’s land, barren ground she knows well. Rock and dust and debris soaked with the secrets of many happier days gone by.

The guards in the watchtowers are on their high alert, tension raised through the recent flare-ups. Male or female, if they catch her, they will not be tolerant. Whatever her cover story, she will be challenged to make them believe her. There are consequences for crossing into the walled city without permission, whoever you are.

Over time, she has listened to the people who know; the gaps she might exploit, but they come with no guarantees, for conditions change all the time, not least the shift patterns and state of alertness of the guards, her biggest concern in the exercise. With the night’s patchy cloud and partially shrouded moon, she knows where she can get through as safely as anywhere. And as she gets closer to this, the most vulnerable point in the trip, she feels herself tense. Her knowledge tells her to take a few, brief moments to breathe deeply to centre herself and keep calm.

Continue reading →