Andrew Wille

=)

Hallowed Evening

The Bakers have lived over there for nearly fifty years now. I recognise the car in the drive. They bought it just before I arrived here. Then there’s Helen Smith’s house. I know she’s still there because I saw her heading out an hour ago. She’s changed a lot over the years, but I’d recognise her anywhere. Not sure who the neigh…[Read more]

Done! and lol! 😀

@knickylaurelle just to let you know Sandra won’t be able to set a challenge as she’s offline for a wee while. Did you want to set another? Or I can invent something?

Very deserved win @sandradavies, well done! & thank you for an unusual, fun challenge @knickylaurelle. Everyone’s entries were great (& fascinating insights into your psyche!!).

Fabulous stories and especially well done, @Sandra. Thanks for a great comp @knickylaurelle

449 words. CW – it’s a little bit dark.

The Hounds

Dark water curls around the bases of the towers and somewhere the hounds are baying. From here, on the bared skeleton of the top floors you can see fires burning on other towers, flags red as blood flying like strings of prayers and there is safety there, possibly, but they are as far away as…[Read more]

Another pieced-together piece, and only 245 words, but best I can manage.

Bourbon dreaming

A bottle of Makers Mark from my husband for Christmas and a wine-free tea (Köstritzer Schwarzbier instead) so I took a glass of bourbon to bed with me, along with John Rebus.

And I dreamt, more vividly and memorably than usual, with more logic than usual…[Read more]

Jay

Jay says he loves me. He says ‘I love you, man’. He tells me he’s killed his mother, or maybe I just think that he did. He says he crushed her like Plasticine, but I can remember that it was really me who crushed my mother. She was made of red plastic and her feet were set on a little tab so she could be stood up. I crushed her with my thumb…[Read more]

In the place and time I found myself, I had done something wrong.

My punishment? A chain of large metal links, secured around my throat, pressing against my flesh, reminding me of its presence every time I swallowed or turned my head.

A man, with whom I had a connection – were we related? Was he the reason for my wrongdoing? – received the sam…[Read more]

What a beautiful bird and how evil to kill it. But then, I probably don’t understand “country ways”. Actually, my mother was born and bred in a tiny farming community in the heart of Somerset and my father was born into a tiger-murdering family in Kanpur (Cawnpore as was) Northern India. I’m quite familiar with country ways. Generally, country…[Read more]