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I stepped out of the cool air-conditioned gun shop into a moist cauldron that posters call Midsummer Florida. The sun blazed molten gold through a haze-hidden sky, causing the drooping palms to dance in the shimmering air above the tarmac. The evening breeze that made the place bearable at this time of year was still Continue reading Soul Mates Edward Cubbington parked the range rover off the road by the old bridge and walked over to peer down at the river below. The heavy rains that had fallen a fortnight before, raising the level and muddying the waters with silt were history and now the river was reborn, running gin clear beneath him. Returning Continue reading The Big Fellah ‘Don’t let the way he looks bother you too much,’ the hushed tones of the nurse interrupted his train of thought, ‘ there’s no cause for worry. It’s just that the stroke froze the muscles on the left side of his face that makes him look a little strange, but he’s not suffering, not in Continue reading Evening Reflections The pavement was hot. I could feel the heat burning through the soles of my sandals making me pick up each foot in turn to cool, like the Sahara ants Mrs Bloomfield had told us about in natural history class. Not that I minded, it was fun being a Sahara ant Editors’ Choice Continue reading Sunrise Paving While walking the dog one morning it occurred to me how much he resembled my late Uncle Silas. They shared the same eyes, the same coloured beard, and more extraordinary still, both of them dribbled when turning their head to the right. In my Uncle’s case this unfortunate lapse of good manners was an ill Continue reading Uncle Silas 7 The continual squalling of the brat was getting on my nerves. I didn’t care what the girl did to silence it, providing she did it fast. The surrounding woods were alive with marauding French Grenadiers and the last thing I needed was a screaming baby to attract their attention. To battle-hardened troops like Continue reading Private Lives book excerpt Lydia stared across at the slumped form of her snoring husband, sprawled across a double seat in the empty third class compartment. Chins spilling over his collar, food stains blurring the patterns of his spotted tie, mouth half open with a driblet of spittle coursing down the left gutter he painted an ugly picture. Continue reading The Anniversary |
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