Horror photos
For the sake of my sanity, I need to tell this story as it happened: hour-by-hour, but to put you in the picture, here’s a little of the background which led to the dreadful chain of events. On Thursday and…
Fractured images
My name is Katherine, though mother called me Katie, which I disliked. I am soon to be twelve years old and this is my first diary entry. The date is June the twentieth in the year of our Lord 1899…
The Monk’s Cowl
(This short story popped into my head when Suzanne, landlady of the Bay Horse showed some members of the writing group the exact location of a priest’s hole, and I thought, what if…?) Amongst the clientele of the Bay Horse…
The Village
Such a lovely village, with its stream, thatched and ancient stone cottages, village green, pub, and just enough shops and cafes to cater for locals and visitors alike. The main road diverts the bulk of the traffic, leaving the heart…
Debut Theatre Performance
I’m going to be a star. My Nana said not to fidget on stage. I know I fidget because Miss Johnson says I do. Miss Johnson says if I learn not to fidget, then I can practise Megan Clutterbuck’s lines…
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…
Mistaken Identities
Kelle didn’t scare easily. Brought up on a rough council estate in Leeds, she’d fought her way through school taking instruction from her elder brother who’d taught her how to handle herself. Here in Whitby for a week with her…
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…
Maybe
Maybe it’s because I’m A Londoner . . . . . . And I’ve always loved London town As a writer, the big cities of the world call to me. They want to tell me their secrets,…