Intermission #shortstory

Lying in a tangle of sheets, I watch a spider cross the ceiling while Jacob struggles unsuccessfully to open the window.  ‘I’m afraid I’ve broken off some of the paintwork,’ He holds up the thin white slivers, and lets them fall from his hands onto the wide windowsill of the triangular alcove. ‘Leave that.  Come … Continue reading Intermission #shortstory

My Quota of Joy (short story)

The highest perfection of intellectual nature lies in a careful and constant pursuit of true and solid happiness –  John Locke One morning at the end of February I look up at the colossal wooden frame mounted above the fireplace and I can see I’ve already used up my Quota Of Joy for the rest … Continue reading My Quota of Joy (short story)

Breakfast (short story)

Hanging on the wall in the hallway of my parents’ house is a portrait of my great grandparents on their engagement day.  It’s one of those typical, non-smiling sepia photographs.  He has a massive moustache and her hair is scraped back off her face so hard it must have been painful. They’re both facing slightly … Continue reading Breakfast (short story)

If you missed us live this morning, catch us live on STV Edinburgh tonight #dwf15

Jemma and I had a lot of fun (& surprisingly few technological mishaps) live broadcasting our writers tour of literary Edinburgh this morning as part of the Digital Writers Festival  '20 Minute Cities' strand. For those of you weren't able to follow the live stream, the recording has been Youtube'd with immediate efficiency thanks to … Continue reading If you missed us live this morning, catch us live on STV Edinburgh tonight #dwf15

It must be Fête (short story)

Bending over the cash box – pretending to count the float – I inhale the sharp, tin scent of well-handled small change and lick my lips. ‘Jacob? Is that what you’re planning to wear this afternoon? How rustic.’ I straighten my back, sifting coppers through my fingers and forcing a smile. ‘I’ve been prepping the … Continue reading It must be Fête (short story)

Creeping Like Snail (short story)

He watched them running: slipping and grabbing each other’s hands and shoulders in an attempt to break through without breaking rank. The mud plastered their hair wetly against their scalps, making so many shadowed skulls where a moment before had been grim faces. He thought – and didn’t know why, except that with the deafening … Continue reading Creeping Like Snail (short story)

Words Cannot Express (short story)

After reading the first line out loud, my mum falls silent.  I dig my nails into the palm of my hands.  She holds the piece of paper away at arms length while she reads and narrows her eyes.  Her reading glasses are in her bag but she always squints, claiming that they tend to smudge … Continue reading Words Cannot Express (short story)

One Vial Act (flash fiction)

Even the stains on the towel looked authentic. I didn’t know there would be so much of it.  The small red bottle was a tardis. With an hour still to go before Maurice returned from the garden centre, I washed my hands repeatedly with his special carbolic soap.  No success. The nail brush was at … Continue reading One Vial Act (flash fiction)

Flashing around: June 2014 round-up

Mildred passed Ernie the small silver jug of cream and he attempted to balance the blue cup and saucer on the thick ridges of his corduroy trousers. extract from 'Things We Do Not Talk About' June has been a flash-fiction month for me, perhaps appropriately as it has the shortest night of the year. National … Continue reading Flashing around: June 2014 round-up

Birds may fly (flash fiction)

Falling off the wall had been the most exciting thing ever to happen to Jane.  The doctor’s soft hands, the crisp white hospital sheets, the smoothness of the empty vase next to her bed. ‘I promise to be more careful,’ she said, scrunching her eyes as the plastic tube was slid out from her arm. … Continue reading Birds may fly (flash fiction)