As Aisha and I ran down the underground corridor, squinting in the dim light, we heard a voice crackling from an old wooden speaker box on the wall. It was Silas. “You can’t escape you know.” We darted to the passage’s end. A blank wall. Backtracked to an intersection. Ran right. “I had the tunnelsContinue reading “The Sale. Part 13.”
Tag Archives: #flashfiction
The Real News. A short tale.
Here’s a post I did for a recent uni course. The course is over so I can post it now. The idea was to take a news story and extrapolate what it was about. A man attacked a woman in a Victorian Shopping Centre. Although the news story was light on details, it wasContinue reading “The Real News. A short tale.”
The Sale. Part 12.
My hands were in the air and so was the rock-solid Maglite flashlight. Silas was watching the Mexican standoff in the store room where crazy woman Junifer had confronted Aisha. I threw the torch as hard as I could. It was a crappy throw. The flashlight hit Silas in the side, surprising him more thanContinue reading “The Sale. Part 12.”
The Sale. Part 11. A short series.
Aisha froze and dropped her phone. The screen cracked on the concrete floor as it bounced at her feet. Across the large, concrete-walled room was Silas, the aged and insensitively tall butler. He was no longer dressed in his servant togs, having changed to a white lab coat and matching trousers, and accessorising with a .38Continue reading “The Sale. Part 11. A short series.”
The Sale. Part 10. A short series.
Climbing down the ladder we came to the ground floor, with the passage leading to the pantry. “Should we stop here?” said Aisha, taking the iPhone out of her mouth and shining the torch light up the dingy corridor. “I really think we need to check out the basement.” I tapped my foot impatiently onContinue reading “The Sale. Part 10. A short series.”
The Sale. Part 9. A short series.
We made it to the floor access. The iPhone torch light reflected off the shiny ladder, floating dust motes and hanging cobwebs. “We’re going down there?” said Aisha. Her face wrinkled in dismay. “I don’t know. It’s bad enough I’m in a dark passage with some stranger…” I slapped my forehead. “Oh, sorry. I’m John.Continue reading “The Sale. Part 9. A short series.”
The Sale. Part 8. A short story.
I flung myself off the bed, seeking to extricate my lower leg from whatever was grabbing it. My effeminate scream echoed through the room. “Oh, shut up,” cried a female voice from below. My leg was released and I huddled against the wall under the shuttered window. An attractive African-American woman in her mid-20’s pulledContinue reading “The Sale. Part 8. A short story.”
The Sale. Part 7. A short story.
The musty corridor receded into the darkness. Silas, holding his lighter aloft, turned and beckoned me to follow. I trailed him as he crept forward, sweeping dusty cobwebs from the way as he went. Before long we came to a ladder marking the end of the passage. It led up into the dark and downContinue reading “The Sale. Part 7. A short story.”
Sucker Punch. A short tale.
Here is another piece I wrote for a recent course that is now finished, so I’m free to post it. Cheers Steve 🙂 I feel the fist as it hits me hard in the jaw. My head shakes violently; I hear the soft crack at my jawline and a seeping pain overwhelms my thoughts. IContinue reading “Sucker Punch. A short tale.”
Copyright Means Rent.
This was a submission for a uni course I recently finished, answering a question about Australian copyright law. I included Alpha Girl and Beta Max because copyright law is pretty dry, and I don’t actually say that much about it here. When I undertake university courses I see questions like this all the time, and thinkContinue reading “Copyright Means Rent.”
The Sale. Part 6. A short story.
I pushed off the door and bolted to the pantry, glimpsing back briefly to see the flame-haired mistress of the blade standing in the frame as the door swung open and hit the wall. The pantry was bigger than I expected, a central corridor lined with shelves of food products—more like a mini-market than aContinue reading “The Sale. Part 6. A short story.”
The Sale. Part 5. A short story.
I ran. The old butler had a head start into the corridor, but he was shuffling at such an antiquated pace I easily overtook him. I glanced back at the mad woman approaching from the living room, knife flashing in time to each stride. “Where?” I yelled, manically. “The kitchen, sir,” he replied, pointing aContinue reading “The Sale. Part 5. A short story.”
The Spell. A short tale.
I saw you again today. You hadn’t changed at all, but of course I shouldn’t have expected you too. After all, it had been but a few weeks, and nobody can be expected to change much in that time. Your beauty outshone everyone else in the room, like a lighthouse between hazardous reefs. I couldContinue reading “The Spell. A short tale.”
The Sale. Part 4. A short story.
The crazy lady was right up in my face, spittle flicking onto my cheek as she voiced her objection. I backed up, hands raised. “Look, I’m really sorry,” I said. “I really didn’t know you had a tragedy related to…cleaning products.” As if from nowhere, she extracted a huge butcher’s knife from its hiding placeContinue reading “The Sale. Part 4. A short story.”
The Sale. Part 3. A short story.
The living room was immense, I almost needed binoculars to identify the furniture. This consisted of a few ornate and dusty lounges, chairs and a worn coffee table, all encircling a huge twenty-foot wide hearth, a fire burning briskly within. Exotic, cobweb-covered chandeliers shone dimly from the ceiling far above—the light they cast had veryContinue reading “The Sale. Part 3. A short story.”
The Sale. Part 2. A short story.
The rain was falling harder now. I raised my collar against the cold and turned to go, lifting the heavy vacuum kit awkwardly beside me. The door slowly opened with a long creak (it was like it had its own theme song, the patter of rain the accompanying percussion). I turned and jumped. The fellow in theContinue reading “The Sale. Part 2. A short story.”
The Sale. Part 1. A short series.
I’ve just started a new uni subject, and one of the threads on the discussion boards is about re-writing clichés. This is my first post from that thread (it’s not part of the marking process so I can post it here now, otherwise I would have to wait until the course was over). I’m goingContinue reading “The Sale. Part 1. A short series.”
Drifter. A short tale.
I am shapeless, without form or feature. I float in the ether between worlds, a wisp of aimless consciousness, searching for convention. Twisting, turning, the eddies of astral winds cycling like water down an infinite drain. Drifting in and out of reality, an incorporeal whisper. I sense a gateway, hovering above me, yet below. IContinue reading “Drifter. A short tale.”
The Wet Street Shuffle. A short tale.
A flash fiction about rainy streets, and the people who walk them. In the tradition of noir. Sounds serious…
Session. A short tale.
Isn’t therapy wonderful? It makes you feel so good to get all that crap off your chest. Or bad, depending on how it goes. But what happens when it doesn’t go to plan?
Missing. A short tale.
Ever felt like something was missing? I have. And that’s what this brief tale is about…
Date Night. A short tale.
The mirror image was unflattering. She had been trying on dresses for the last hour. They always looked better on the rack and in the fitting rooms before she bought them. She knew there was something about the mirrors in stores. Like the ones at carnivals, but warping everything to look better (maybe she shouldContinue reading “Date Night. A short tale.”