Divides. A flash fiction.

This is a short fiction I wrote for a Uni subject I completed a while back. Enjoy! Cheers Steve 🙂  Divides. By Stephen Thompson. My mother is dusting. The feather duster she uses swishes lightly over the mementoes and photo frames on the shelf, cautiously tracing a path through our family history like a shipContinue reading “Divides. A flash fiction.”

Finding My Voice

“In truth, I never consider the audience for whom I’m writing. I just write what I want to write.” J.K Rowling. “You have to follow your own voice. You have to be yourself when you write. In effect, you have to announce, ‘This is me, this is what I stand for, this is what youContinue reading “Finding My Voice”

Sucker Punch. A short tale, revisited.

Here’s a flash fiction I wrote a while back. It wasn’t seen by many at the time, so I’ve decided to re-blog it in the hope that more may get the chance to read it. https://stevestillstanding.com/2017/06/24/sucker-punch-a-short-tale/ Hope you like it. Cheers Steve 🙂    

The Great Australian Novel. A pondering.

So, what exactly happened with the writing of my great Australian novel (and I use the term ‘great’ very loosely)? I don’t have writer’s block*. I know a lot of writers suffer from this, and I am always sympathetic (did I say sympathetic. Sorry, I meant uncaring and sociopathically lacking empathy), but not me. Actually,Continue reading “The Great Australian Novel. A pondering.”

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.”

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.”

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 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.”

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.”