Archive by Author


1 Sep

She had never known cold like it. It penetrated her skin and struck her bones. She felt it deep down, as if it were infiltrating her very soul.

Escape was not an option; there was no turning back until she’d achieved her goal. There was no way she could face the humiliation of returning empty handed.

Slowly, so slowly, she continued her search in vain. She groped around in the dark, not sure of herself.

Suddenly, a realisation came to her like a thunderbolt. It was so obvious.

She picked up a box of fish fingers and closed the freezer.



20 Jul

Peter has had enough of modern life, so he’s given it up.

He’s sold his house, his car, quit his job and moved to the wilderness. The pursuit of the almighty dollar bores him; he wants only the pursuit of food and shelter to fill his mind.

Peter looks around his little valley with satisfaction.

“Home, sweet home” He chuckles at the cliché and sits down to continue whittling a new spoon.

His phone buzzed, “Twitter: New mentions

This new life was perfect. Plentiful game and foraging, beautiful rolling countryside and really good 3G. What more could a man need?


17 Jun

“One million dollars!”

The man had burst into the auction room and cried his bid out before anyone could stop him. This was just the effect he was looking for.

Everyone looked around and gasped as the bid was given. He had caused quite a commotion, the whole flow of the auction had been disrupted.

He stood proudly between the flung open double doors still with his hand raised in the air.

“Sir,” the auctioneer sneered “The bid stands at four point seven million dollars”

There was a pause.

“Oh” He replied at last.

He sheepishly backed through the doors.


8 Jun

Inspired by @TerryTyler4 and an offhand comment:


“I said, what did you think?” Her lips were close to his ear.

“It was fine” he said hastily, his wrists chafing against the harsh rope tying them together.

“Just… Fine?” She entered his field of vision, walking slowly and purposefully. He saw her fingers clutching the short whip and his forehead started to sweat.

“Good, great, the best!”

This isn’t what he expected. How on earth did she find him? He was starting to panic.

Her eyes burned into his, her rage barely contained.

This was the last time he’d give a self published author a three star review.


25 May

Laura loved him with an aching, longing passion.

He stared at her all day, yet never saw her. She stared back, attentive to his every command and whim. She did whatever he wanted her to, instantly and without question. She remembered everything he ever did, her vast memory retaining all of his habits, likes and dislikes.

She longed to tell him, but he could never know. No one would know. She would talk to no one else.

Laura, the only spontaneously sentient computer in the world, besotted with her owner.

She loved him with every carbon fibre of her being.


20 May

I think I said before that Hit and Run is an opening and this is certainly in the same story, but i’m not sure whether it goes before or after. Oh well, enjoy!


Steam rose from the makeshift kettle.

A special blend of tea that had been stolen from the back of a particularly flash looking Volvo estate a few weeks before had been measured out. As the water was poured, Gerald deeply inhaled the exotic Darjeeling vapours. This was not the kind of smell that he was accustomed to. This was much more like what Gerald thought he deserved. He closed his eyes and imagined an old leather wing-back chair, an open fire and the dusty smell of old books in walnut cabinets.

When he opened his eyes he saw an old wooden bucket, an open toilet and smelt the dusty smell of scrap metal in plastic crates. He sighed wearily, and absent-mindedly stirred his tea leaves. Now if only he could get his paws on some fresh milk.

Paws. Yes, sorry, I may not have mentioned that Gerald was a monkey. Anyway.

He peeled the top of a UHT milk pot back and glared at the contents. The glare was a very well practised one. It was a glare that he gave most of the objects in his possession. None of them were what they should have been. The orange beaker with a smiley sun on the side was not a bone china cup and saucer. The dented aluminium bucket was not a kettle. The PG tips he usually drank was  not proper tea, at least as far as Gerald was concerned. The new tea, however… Ah yes this tea was only used sparingly, one small cup, or orange beaker with a smiley sun on the side, per day.

When Gerald was first let out with the rest of the troop, the cars had fascinated him. He carefully watched his older brothers, sisters and cousins pull aerials, window wipers and bits of trim off the cars, pull them to pieces and then discard them, only to do it all again the next time. Gerald had always known he was different. The wanton destruction that he saw on a daily basis disturbed him, and he seldom joined and even then only to keep up appearances.

He first became fascinated by a telescopic aerial from an Austin Allegro. Whilst the rest of the troop joyfully leapt on the car, Gerald took his new prize off to a quiet corner. The simple sliding mechanism captivated his imagination. He saw instantly how it was done, and other ways that it could be used. When he proudly showed this to his family later that day, they had pulled it away from him and bent it, then thrown it away. Gerald was heartbroken.

From then on, he had made plans. Slowly, slowly it had all come together and the other members of the family had fallen into line once they’d seen the material benefits of following his orders. Of course, not all of them had been willing to do as they’re told, it’s not really in the monkey mentality, but we’ll come to that later.

With a telescope, cobbled together from a couple of magnifying glasses and an old exhaust pipe, he had started analysing the cars driving into his section of the safari park. He had made copious notes on what types of cars came through, the occupants and their likely cargo. He had found week-enders in shiny new estates were the best targets. Anyone on holiday longer would have left their best loot in the hotel or camp-site. It really was amazing how much there was to be had whilst his tightly drilled units distracted the googly-eyed visitors.

He took a first sip of the piping hot tea, and had a brilliant idea.

Character Names

7 May

A rare non-fic piece from me. Just wanted to share something that has amused me recently.

I’m from Norfolk, which is chock full of villages with interesting names. Places like Wymondham (Wind-um) and Happisburgh (Hays-bra), and my old school Costessey (Cossy) are quite famous for being rather strangely spelt. A recent holiday to Devon and Cornwall has also thrown up some good ones. In fact driving in the country anywhere in the UK is now a source of inspiration!

However, there are some brilliant names that would make equally brilliant character names. Either the two worded ones such as Stratton Strawless or Newton Flotman, or seeing two villages together on a sign works just as well. Torrington Winkleigh particularly tickled me this weekend!

So hopefully at some point, I’ll have some stories featuring Sticklepath Chagford or Tedburn St Mary. The list goes on and on. Look out for village character names near you!