The heat was pleasant, in the distance of several fence-lines a lawnmower hummed against the melody of a Sunday afternoon. The smell of dry-cut grass, the call of laughter from the park across the road, every piece had been interwoven into a tapestry of the perfect day and its beautiful simplicity was awashed with a … Continue reading Afternoon at a Yard of Bricks and Lawn
Category: Stand alone
Come As You Are
Come as you are; for that is how we’ll remember you. It was cold, I can remember the mist as your pale smile said goodbye and you turned to step into absence, words caught in ice and wisping from existence just as if the night too had left me alone. The white light of the … Continue reading Come As You Are
Bin Day
'Don't get up, it's Bin Day.' The rattling call of the garbage truck could always be heard some thirty minutes before it swung round onto Ardent St and parked in front of my doorstep. Acute heading and a troublesome back had lent me to the unfortunate rousing of a light-sleeper, and in the forthcoming line … Continue reading Bin Day
A New Day
The tiles were cold. In the flicker of straying sunlight, the faint outline of a shirt, half-hung from the open washing machine, appeared to be alike some kind of misshapen beast crawling its way back from the abyss. It was pallid creature of crumpled skin and flannel texture, a voiceless horror without hand nor face: … Continue reading A New Day
Tinned Peas and a Bottle of Beer
'Did you know that a beer bottle fits perfectly inside an empty can of snow-peas?' 'What are you on about?' Claire replied, vocally severing the prefix off of the word nonplussed and tossing the lexical fragment into a bin, 'Please don't tell me this is how you spent the day, Martin, you were supposed to … Continue reading Tinned Peas and a Bottle of Beer
A Song of Rain
The rain softly falls upon ancient bricks and day takes on a melody rarely seen within these Eastern Steeps. A pattern of droplets tentatively fall to the ground and paint a portrait of spots across the small courtyard, slowly giving life to the canvas of moss and ancient brickwork that has rested untouched for time … Continue reading A Song of Rain
The Best Ever Head-butter of the Garuul Plains
Odreck Iron-skull was the best ever head-butter of the Garuul plains. Harking back to the barbaric days fighting for power and food, head-butting as a practice has become somewhat diminished within the conscionable thinkers of a politely modern world, but, as with all games of skill, the sport has proven itself to be somewhat enjoyable … Continue reading The Best Ever Head-butter of the Garuul Plains
Keepers of the Beacon
You step from the hatch and see a line of bricks built into the wall that protects this section of the parapet from rough sea; it's a day of symphonic bluster and the azure sky has become overtaken by the glow of a nearby brushfire. A warm buffet of ash sweeps past as the howl … Continue reading Keepers of the Beacon
Long Way to Monday
Cardy had a long way to Monday. The thoughts of the sepia hued sunset that lived beyond today enriched the penultimate start of another shift and called the moths of revelry to assemble around the lightbulb of hedonism--the slump of Monday morning not yet ordaining to obscure their delusion. Yes, it was hot, yes, the … Continue reading Long Way to Monday
A Fighter
Theo was not a violent man. Well, I mean his love of a fight was as boundless as the will of any person, but there was never any malice in his bones. He fought with pride, a quiet smile on his face and a focus to his eyes that refused to look away from a … Continue reading A Fighter
Sunday Short Stories 