Tag Archives: Friday Fictioneers

The crops are ruined. The marauders demolished all that grew above the surface, and now worms and insects continue their mission below. Still every day he comes, grading the soil between leathery fingers, searching for something, anything to mark his … Continue reading →

Every day, an endless procession of feet trudging past her basement window. Dirty feet in flip-flops, tortured feet in stilettos, bouncing Nike-clad feet.  With time the scene changes to soft suede slouch boots, and then to wellington boots – shiny … Continue reading →

  With my mother leading, we struggled up the dunes to the car park, half-empty hampers bumping at our heels. I studied the great white slabs of my mother’s calves, lightly blue-threaded, as we approached the car where Father was … Continue reading →

Not much of a job, but until recently the tips were good. Nowadays the rush starts at midnight with punters flocking into the Blue Angel as usual, but the dawn exodus, the money-making hours, well that’s not what it was. … Continue reading →

I decide not to mention the shadows lingering at her shoulder.  Why alarm her? Stumbling alongside her brother, I occasionally glimpse a veil of mist surrounding him too, a fog which evaporates the moment I try to focus. The good … Continue reading →

The usual skirmish at table 7. She wants to sit in the corner facing out, the better to watch the room, and be seen. He’s always coveted that seat so that she, with her back to the room, focuses only … Continue reading →

Once I sensed my younger sister saw him too, I took it down and left it by the refuse bin, consigning it to scavengers or the elements, I cared not which. A day later someone knocked at my door. “Do … Continue reading →

  The city barely sleeps. Neither does it dream; it has nourishment enough from the broken dreams of those who spend their lives fluttering like moths, beating fragile dusty wings against an unattainable light. Occasionally it dozes fitfully towards dawn, … Continue reading →

A tsunami of memories overwhelms her. Long summer twilights, chilled wine hauled from the murky depths beside the boat, steel halyards tinkling against the mast, and strakes rubbing irritably against foreign quays. His boat, spotted from the harbour wall, is … Continue reading →