The sky was angry.Atop a signal tower somewhere unknown and staring into the abyss of distance, an engineer named Talbot shivered in the frost-touched wind and drew his coat tighter around his shoulders.It was hard to remember the air before it was this broiling knot of rage and static, the coiling sprawl of a horizon … Continue reading Morning’s Waiting Part II
Tag: short story
Morning’s Waiting Part I
‘They always make that noise,’ Talbot shouted above the rumble of the switch-room, his words were muffled in their usual way from the tail of a half-smoked cigarette wedged into the corner of his mouth.Closing the access panel behind him, the engineer loafed down the ladder and looked out into the depths of the jumbled … Continue reading Morning’s Waiting Part I
Fire & Socks
It was an elongated stretch of boredom that led me to throw a pair of socks against the brick wall of my apartment, one afternoon misspent and wanting of purpose. To my surprise, the dull thud of knitted cotton on render had found itself to be just quiet enough that it might not wake my … Continue reading Fire & Socks
A Walk Around Trugala Station
‘You may not know this, but every goat in Australia is orientated by nautical terms.’ Walking past a ramshackle gate without fence, the old farmer, known as Noel, placed his boot up on a shin-high post and looked off into the flat of a long-stretching horizon, ‘clerical error I heard, way back in the seventeens … Continue reading A Walk Around Trugala Station
A Note Left on My Fridge III
Hark!Hark, I wailsome-ly call to the heavens and hells of mighty horsemen bounding toward apocilypta! Hark, I call out so loudly that seraph above become unseated from their cloud and scatter halo, serif marks and dainty wings across the landscape below, falling to the vortex of your abandon. Why must this house of fragility be … Continue reading A Note Left on My Fridge III
John, why are there Grass Clippings all over the Floor?
A short story about a very odd friend.
A Single Stone
A single stone sat upon the edge of a distant shoreline and contemplated existence. Surrounded by a panoptic wreath of sea and sand, the outward world felt expanding and almost unending: like a single needle placed into a pin-cushion, as if a lone dot was struck upon a canvas; the stone would think of distance … Continue reading A Single Stone
A King’s Coup De Grace
I always assumed that I’d die surrounded by my friends, their steely knives bearing down upon me as I looked up in surprise to be cut down: inexplicably thinking about Caesar and wishing I took better notice of the exit path. A king’s death, that’s how I wanted to go. Not a gout laden heart-burst … Continue reading A King’s Coup De Grace
A Knock at the Door
A single knock landed upon my door much in a way that a bookcase might fall down a set of stairs. The heavy handed slap of deadweight echoed through each corner of my small apartment, seemingly to make sure that every groutline, every granule of dust, knew that the door had just been resoundingly knocked. … Continue reading A Knock at the Door
Quiet on the River’s Edge
Quick note: This is a horror short There’s a bridge a few minutes from my home that crosses over a small river. Not small enough that it should go without mention but this was the type of river that would be hard to describe if you were ever asked. It was bland in many senses, … Continue reading Quiet on the River’s Edge
Sunday Short Stories 