Tag Archives: Friday Fictioneers

The rooks had been gathering, even as hunters slashed their way into the heart of the forest. Now gunfire shatters the early evening silence, and after each volley there’s a moment’s pause before the sound of branches rustling, cracking, giving … Continue reading →

It occurs to her that since he brought her here, there has never been a day without mist shrouding the boundary fence. How strange; when he talks about the view – the rolling fields, the distant spires. Every morning he … Continue reading →

The man by the fountain is crying. Everyone pretends not to notice, burying heads in newspapers or studying phones intently. The tears become sobs, and less steely individuals glance at their watches, staging elaborately shocked surprise before hurrying away. The … Continue reading →

An unguarded moment… a lapse in resolve and her past hurtles into view, cartwheeling her into the familiar labrynth of guilt, apprehension… partial regret.  It can take days to work through the nightmare, to rationalise, to paper over the images. … Continue reading →

  She watches from the terminal building as they drift up the rear steps of the aircraft. She’s seen them before at the shopping mall, climbing the escalators minutes before the terrorists struck. They’d been gathering in the foyer the … Continue reading →

Annie tilts her face to the sun. Her tongue circles the mound of ice-cream, skimming over the softened rim of the cornet. Waves whisper along the shoreline, seagulls wheel and circle, watching, hovering, calculating. Then a shadow darkens the sun; … Continue reading →

As she kneels amongst the shattered plant-pots, cradling his grizzled head in her hands, she realises she can’t remember when they last touched each other. Distant sirens herald the approaching ambulance. “Hang on, Joseph.” Later, much later, she climbs into … Continue reading →

  There are more of us tonight; we sit quietly, shoulder to shoulder. Behind us, at a safe distance, we see the headlights of the first unmarked paddy-wagon.  This is for the redeemables. The others are for the others. Gratifyingly, … Continue reading →

  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 →