Vamps
Jake’s seniors had warned that they came in threes but he knew better than to rely on urban myths. He preferred to deal with facts. So he spruced up and set off into the part of town where vamps were…
Pat Barnett
Gizmo
He was given the name of Gizmo because of his fascination with remote controls: not that he wanted to use them in the way they were designed, rather he would take them apart and pocket only the minute items that…
Femme Fatale
Femme Fatale When Pamela stepped off the bus she to fathom the different scenes before her. Where she stood the sky was bright with the low winter sun almost blinding her: yet across the road along Market Place, a thick…
Lilt of the Fairground
My shopping trolley is humming its merry tune as its wheels roll over the paving slabs. Wednesday is when I do my big shop, few cars hurtling goodness knows where, so crossing by the roundabout is made easy. The Forest…
What if?
The inspiration behind this essay came from notes in the Cambridge Introduction to Creative Writing: it suggests the use of data collected via field study techniques: for example – observing the behaviour of fellow townsfolk whilst they go about their normal business.…
The Publicity Stunt
It was a kind of experiment. A scheme set up by an advertising company to promote a new line of site-cabins for the building industry. The promotion was portrayed as a golden opportunity to turn your dreams into fortunes; instead…
🔉Just for one day
Beginnings begin with courage. These words came from my radio mere seconds before I switched it off. They stayed with me as I prepared to enter my den where I could psyche myself up to start a new year of…
Cornerstones
All that is left are the basic foundations – four gigantic slabs of stone embedded in the earth. They remain to testify that once, long ago a property of substance stood on this very plot of land. According to parish…
Breathless
Zoe ended her call. She shivered and gave the street another quick glance. Her eyes rested on something dark – a crow, she thought, that crept along the ridge of a cottage roof. Her breath hung in the cold air…
The Ballad of King Peredurus
By the banks of the Costa that rolls to the sea,Through Moorland that’s purpled with ling.The robes of a man lie on bedrocks of scree,A fool who was born to be King.His claim to the throne on his finger he…