Category: Writing
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A Creak On The Stairs
That creaking wasn’t normal. It wasn’t the house settling, or the wood moving with the temperature change. It wasn’t a half dreamt noise. Someone was in the house. Dan opened his eyes, saw the red glow from the alarm clock illuminating his half-empty glass of water. Moments ago he was drowsy, had finally shushed the…
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The Development Paradox
Leigh-Anne didn’t have any friends, and it didn’t bother her one little bit. She played alone, indulging in elaborate fantasies that took her to worlds of her own making. The garden was her blank canvas, the small woods a few streets away was an empty notebook, and the little stream nearby sang its ideas to…
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Empty Inside
Dan used to be a happy chap. He always had a nice thing to say about someone, always had a smile, or a joke. And it was genuine. It was never a front. He wasn’t hiding his real feelings, or masking the depths of his emotions. But lately, he just felt empty inside. The verve…
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Bottled Anger
I never understood the phrase ‘don’t bottle it up’. But the day I took it literally was the day that changed my life. It was also the day that changed the world. Anger is an odd thing, I realised, and noticed that when I was angry, I got hot, bothered, fidgety, my mind raced. Basically,…
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Up A Tree D-Y-I-N-G
It seemed like a good idea at the time. For some reason, the zombie horde couldn’t climb trees. But now they were circling the base of the trunk, moaning and stretching out their arms at the last remaining brain container on the planet. Deborah looked down at them, then let her eyes wander, examining the…
