This Christmas will remain a Why? Christmas, which means that from now on all Christmases will be Why? Christmases because the answer never came. Even if it comes later, it will be at the wrong time.
Category: Short Story
The Cycles of the Ring
I'm driving down a country lane straight as a rolling pin. It crosses flat fields undulating with mournful high grasses and green-to-rusty gold crops. The horizon wraps them in fluffy but menacing clouds, wind and rain bashing the car windscreen. But what transfixes me, keeps my eyes open to the point of watering and my … Continue reading The Cycles of the Ring
Only Caterpillars
They're all trying to be clever. This is how we're supposed to do creative writing: exquisite descriptions. Shadows of ideas travelling like clouds over the steps of St Paul’s cathedral or memories in a whiff of a ghost’s whisper through the stained glass of the Dean’s Altar. I can write like this and better. The … Continue reading Only Caterpillars
Easter Bread
There is so much Easter magic for the children of the Thracian valley, cradle of Orpheus. The fields of fertile black soil shimmer with emerald-green waves that soon would become golden wheat. Saint Todor, riding through the sea of wheat on his black Arabian stallion, takes off his seven sheepskin coats one by one, under … Continue reading Easter Bread
Nightshift
She opened the back door. There, in front, stood a meagre fox, his glassy eyes fixed straight into hers. What a wonderful thing, she thought, to have a fox in my back garden. Pete had told her something everyone in England knew about foxes. “Nasty vermin, Pete said, they’ll tear your bin bags at night, … Continue reading Nightshift
Stranger
He was a small boy from a small village. Even if the village was small, the boy one day had to grow up and face the fact that it was a village torn. Between two countries. As was his uncle - a man torn between his vocation - Catholic priest - and his heart - … Continue reading Stranger
Dora Court 