'Grass is a carpet,' said Mat, yawning as he lent back onto a fence post and content in the belief that he had just discovered something quite profound.The land was vast in this part of the steppes, fields that swallowed the horizon stretched off in totalic wonder as the enormity of this world became unflatteringly … Continue reading Grass
Tag: story
To Fish in a Waterless Creek with a non-existent Rod
On Coalbank road there is a bend of listless navigation and beside that bend there is a stump. Be it a marker or simple piece of passing scenery, this stump has become indelible to the bend of Coalbank road, existing as the setting sun that lives within an amber skyline. The dirt road of this … Continue reading To Fish in a Waterless Creek with a non-existent Rod
The Balendup Tributary II
Article taken from the Balendup Tributary, dated February the 19th 1996 New Creek Crossing a 'Bridge to Balendup's Future' 'The sky was never really a limit,' Geffrey Markson announced to the collected media pit today, its mass of mottled journalists clipping irregularly over ardent note taking and a gaze that was yet to unsettle the … Continue reading The Balendup Tributary II
Afternoon at a Yard of Bricks and Lawn
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
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
A Confrontation in the Lobby
'Now open the door before I open it with you,' Tony Valleri said in a brutalist form of monotone to the porter who stood by the entrance to Krisnial's hotel. The crime boss had a bluntness lain upon his every inflection implying to anyone in his vicinity that they were about to become a statistic. … Continue reading A Confrontation in the Lobby
I Made a Friend
I made a friend. It feels a sad thing to admit now that I've written it down, but the fact is that I've usually struggled whenever meeting someone new.I should say that I'm not a total basket case, despite my rambling ruining the argument; It's just that words are hard, they're a tangle of lagging … Continue reading I Made a Friend
An Inn Called Copperpot
He was a cliff. The rough side of a shale mountain stood impassively behind the bar moving as a human might and frowning as if embodied by the chiselled caricature of true stoicism. As proprietor of the quaintly simple Copperpot Inn, the unblinkingly dead-faced gaze of Errol Grangly stood like a silo stack over a … Continue reading An Inn Called Copperpot
The Balendup Tributary
Article taken from the Balendup Tributary, dated March 10th, 1986. Avian Falls Foul of New Hospital Wing "Salt the earth and may you water the daisies that sprout below my headstone." Were the final words of Mayor Barlow Avian as he attended the opening of the newly renovated Balendup hospital today, becoming not only the … Continue reading The Balendup Tributary
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
Sunday Short Stories 