Pre-dawn on a midsummer morning, Tait Duncan, drove  south-east along an A1 empty of all but Highlands-bound supermarket wagons, conscience similarly uncluttered by the lie he’d last night told his wife as to the reason for his early morning departure. (In what had become th…[Read more]

1)  choose  a  significant anniversary in your life:  e.g.  birthday,  wedding, first child: graduation – then,

2 ) Google the UK Top 10 singles chart for that week.

3) select two, three or four  song titles  from that list and,

4) use them (loosely if necessary!) as a basis for  a short story, of…[Read more]

Thank you , Terrie, both for the challenge and your comments on both my entry and Jill’s excellently crafted, sensitive  story. I’ll aim to set something for June by the end of today.

Crikey Moses, William, I’m heart-heartedly glad to hear you are home and hopefully on your way to some sort of recovery – what a torrid time you and your family must have gone through, and thank you for updating us so vividly.

Sendng love and the most healingest of good wishes

Sandra

‘Gobsmacked’ the inelegant word that came to mind when I read the letter. What else would you expect , being told your three year-old daughter’s poem had been awarded first prize ?  A prize  which earned her up to three sittings with well-renowned portrait artist Bernard Broom. Especially when I’d not an inkling she’d  written any…[Read more]

Having heard Athelstone indisposed again, it’s unlikely he’ll be be judging  this any time soon

Wine-heavy eyes and naked, she was cleaning her teeth in front of the bathroom mirror when he came in through the door behind her.   He stood behind her, serious-faced, saying nothing, but unignorably attentive.   She finished brushing. Spat, rinsed and spat a couple more times then put the toothbrush back in the glass on…[Read more]

From the steps of Leith’s registry Office, exceeding the word count and containing expletives, but the best I can do given other demands.  

Then, hand in hand, another looking-to-be-wed couple arrived from the rear carpark. On foot and windblown,  Well-matched in the scruffiness of their clothes. Even earlier for their ceremony th…[Read more]

New book and a new – and very welcome – experience for me:  a “How To” write book received as a birthday present which I found many times more compelling, educational; entertaining and personally useful than the many “How To” books on writing I own: a dozen on my bookshelves, and knowledge of one di…[Read more]

The telegram sent by my new-made grandfather, telling my father of my safe arrival, at five minutes to midnight on the twentieth December (and, according to my great-grandfather’s fish scales, weighing 6lbs 4 ozs) is explanation enough of why I don’t remember my first Christmas. To establish whether it was my sec…[Read more]

Games people play

Monday morning’s plumping of the pillows of our marital bed effortful, thanks to both sleep and sex absent as snow in August throughout the weekend. Similarly,  energy enough to dissipate the sourness of my reaction when I noticed  the wor…[Read more]

Ulysses

The Morning Gift

The Lies of Locke Lamora

The missing shade of blue

The book was finished, the story told. But more importantly, the truth laid bare. Every pocket dimension of past trauma exorcised. Every chapter of his life stamped adult, checked as complete. Every fragment of what it meant to be human sorted and struck through.

Now was a new time. A beginning time. Time to rejoin the…[Read more]