Tag Archives: Friday Fictioneers

  Someone will have found them by now. The Senior Librarian, I filed her behind Crime Fiction.  She’ll probably recover, given time, but she doesn’t have that much time before retirement. The younger one… meh.   She’s folded neatly into the space … Continue reading →

She doesn’t know why she’s on this train. But she’s wondering whether the same inertia that’s smothered her over the years now keeps her rooted in her seat. Stations loom, pause momentarily, and recede in the distance.  The compulsion to … Continue reading →

Even as he left, she set about patching up the hole he’d left in her life. Firm, neat stitches, and soon you could scarcely tell he’d been there at all. Inevitably, more repairs became necessary in time, some simply requiring … Continue reading →

There’s gaiety on the streets tonight, but I’ve had my fill of that. Earlier I trailed a couple to the park, and dined on love, lightly seasoned with lust.  Or was it the other way round?  My taste buds are … Continue reading →

I didn’t know who those people were. I’d hovered between the accumulating piles – charity shop, memorabilia, rubbish, before dropping the photos in the middle pile. I’d go through them later. And now they’re on the table, between me and … Continue reading →

  I was despatched to bring him home – a spiritless task rankling even more than the unconvincingly louche nonchalance of his newly-acquired Gallic associates. Did they try harder to detain him, I wondered.  Or were some seeking to extend … Continue reading →

Instinctively, I moved it beyond his reach. It wouldn’t stop him trying, but for the moment it was safe. As he grew, I shifted it higher, observing that others took similar precautions with cherished possessions, seemingly intuiting the potential for … Continue reading →

  The theatre is silent and in darkness, save for the Exit signs, gently pulsing a dim green glow across the big screen ahead. She’s no idea how long she’s slept, but even as she searches for her handbag she … Continue reading →

  He enjoyed the swings, but then seemed uncertain, so until the roundabout gathered speed, I paced alongside the undulating red and silver horse. The second time around I saw his expression relaxing from angst to delight. And the next … Continue reading →

The chair is mine now. For thirty years it was his chair, moulded by time to his generous proportions, the arms polished by perpetually drumming fingers, the head-rest darkened with grease. For twelve months now it’s been our chair, my … Continue reading →