For whom does the dead ringer toll?

It was Hamish who first noticed it. We were sitting in the back room of the abandoned offices that were our temporary home when he said ‘You know, we could be brothers.’ I was a little offended, given I’d maintained some level of decency in my attire and appearance in my fall from grace and …

Owl’d lang syne

This was written for the monthly Blog Battle challenge, up to 2000 words, with the prompt word of 'owl'. This piece is 1400+ words. As Carter made his way carefully along the rutted track in his ancient, poorly-suspended car, he wondered for the umpteenth time why McGee had invited him to celebrate Hogmanay at his …

Unfiltered

This story was written for the Six Sentence story challenge with the prompt word of 'filter'. You know that filter that’s supposed to intervene between what you think and what you say, that filter that weighs up the consequences of honesty versus the need to be polite and to consider the future consequences for your …

‘Currying Disflavour’ is a winner

I crave your indulgence in a little immodesty. I am delighted to report that I have just been advised that this story has won the Longer Flash Fiction section (up to 500 words) of the The Andrew Siderius Memorial Writing Contest, run by Friday Flash Fiction in Edinburgh, Scotland. The Judges' comments included: 'We especially …

Bach to the future

The boy stayed in the shadows as he peered into the window, noting the half-empty whisky bottle and the last century headphones and the old man’s arms waving, and the wooden spoon in hand and the closed eyes and the knitted brow. On the side table sat an ashtray full of forbidden butts, an empty …

Thou Shalt Not

1700 words It was a fact that Phil had organised for Matthew to die. Phil took full responsibility but there would be no trial. He could have confessed but he chose not to. On principle. When the Reverend Matthew Patterson and his wife, Penny, moved in next door they seemed a pleasant enough couple to …

Finn McCool, the first Gaelic vegan

This piece was written for the D'Verse Prosery Challenge, with the prompt to write a story that includes: ‘I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head’. I went out to the hazel wood because a fire was in my head. I sat at the feet of Finneces, who awaited …

Bones made of air

Written for the D'Verse 144 word challenge, requiring the use of this quote: 'Sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy' from the poem Spring Azures by Mary Oliver. Sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy, not proportionate to the flesh they support, but I have little choice if I …

When the chickens come home to roost

Walter McGillicuddy’s only, and supremely effective, defense against the charge of being insane was that he always remained within the bounds of the broad church of sanity. When he was questioned by the railway police as to why he was tearing up strips of newspaper and throwing them out of the window, he said it …

When is a revolution just a circle?

Matt waited in the darkness of the verandah, his cheek against the stripped timber of the front door he’d meant to stain one day. As he waited, Dee played the piano and sang at the end of the corridor, on the other side of the door. Sounded like an original. It suited her voice. At …