Stories & Poetry
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Evening Crickets — A Poem
Crickets roam our bedroom, gentle chorus in the gloaming. Stalking through once-silent dreams; on tiny feet, a-roaming. Where do they go, my crickets, when the nighttime hours fade? When the darkness peels away to light, and the bed is carefully made? I check in all the crevices, the crannies and the nooks— I research on the internet. I cross-reference it in books. I riffle racks of dresses in the murky walk-in robe, peer under all the scattered shoes and unfold my folded clothes. But my gryllidae stay hidden until the evening falls. I am left here—searching— amidst four silent walls. Some days are for writing veterinary biographies, some for dreaming…
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Finding Ourselves
For those who don’t know, I used to write on another blog. I started it in 2014 post-Afghanistan, when I was ensconced in a new city, in a new world, in a new self defined by confusion and pain and loss; I started it as a way to try and heal myself through a medium that I instinctively knew I belonged to, and that belonged to me. But the truths I found that year, that I fought and bled for in the depths of my soul, are no less true for the passage of time and the healing of those wounds. They still resonate with the parts of me that…
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The Lost
The paper was late again. He peered out the window onto his front lawn, and frowned, then strode onto the porch. The empty wicker chair stood at attention beneath his scrutiny, but the man ignored it, and was rewarded with the sight of the paperboy flying around the corner on a black Avanti. “Going damn fast, too,” he said to himself as the teenager skidded to a halt and pegged the rolled up newspaper towards the front door. It wouldn’t take much for him to hit someone and knock them flying, the fool. “About time,” he said, more loudly, but the boy only laughed. “You’re welcome, Grim!” The kid yelled,…
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A Blue Wren
The world outside was still black when the man awoke. Heavy curtains draped over the cold expanse of glass, separating the outside from what lay within, and in the darkness, the man tossed restlessly. Shifting traces of light snuck beneath the door, beckoning him to wakefulness; he opened a single eye to glare blearily at the seeping white light. What he wouldn’t give to sleep again, to slide back into the nothingness… to dream of birds whose beaks were tied shut with ribbon and bodies bound with silver wires. He frowned. Birds? Even as he thought it, the crisp edges of a little blue wren seemed to materialise out of…
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The Final Waiting
The moonlight shattered around the darkness of her shadow on the ground. In the still air, the silence—peace, or simply violence without a voice?—felt as fragile as a frozen pane of glass, and she breathed softly, lest it fracture. A bird whistled to itself far above, then stopped abruptly, as though it too knew what lay at stake. A whisper of a breeze caught at her clothing, the raking of icy claws across her skin making the tiny hairs stand on end. She fought against the shiver that threatened to rattle its way up her spine: she needed to be still, still and silent. She was waiting again, below the…
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A Poem for Humanity
I haven’t written a poem in a while, but a combination of what’s been going on in the world recently and my psychology studies brought this together for me: we’re really just a bundle of nerve endings and electricity, of muscles and bones and chemicals, and somewhere beneath all of that, our thoughts, our loves and hates, our fears and hopes – our soul. Humanity Place them all ‘neath a microscope one by one. Beyond differences, an assault of similarities: kidneys, lungs and heart. Further in, a twisting acid helix underwrites an interplay of the invisible. Search a spangled web of brain tissue to try and find where thoughts…
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NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge #2 – The Evacuees’ Circus
This is my second entry for the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge, where my prompts were historical fiction, a circus tent and a doll’s head (creepy, right?). When Operation Pied Piper sends forty little girls from their school in Manchester to Lyme Park in Cheshire, Lord and Lady Newton find themselves having to make some adjustments for their new wards. “Clara!” Lord Newton exclaimed as he walked into the room, two favourite dogs in tow. “What on Earth is this?” Lady Newton spun around. “Oh, dear,” she laughed, a long-fingered hand flying to her chest. “You startled me.” She turned to survey her handiwork. “Wonderful, isn’t it?” Lord Newton looked around…
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An Introduction to my Novel
Happy Hump Day everyone! The middle of the week is always a time for partying and celebration… Okay, that’s not true. But it does mean you can all get a little bit excited because it’s that much closer to the weekend (and sleep-ins! Also maybe waffles – James?). Before we get to the promised post though, I wanted to remind you about the Flooded Anthology! The Kickstarter went live yesterday and we’re trying to drum up support for this project: please, spare a few minutes and go over to have a look at this. Perhaps you know someone with a brain injury, perhaps you have suffered one; maybe you’d like to know…
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The Woman in Red
Since I have an exam tomorrow, and I recently rediscovered some short stories (that still need a lot of extra work – don’t get me wrong!) on my laptop, I’ve decided to wimp out of actually writing anything and simultaneously give you all a break in the form of a story. “So sorry dear. How is your mother?” My reply is the same each time. “Thank you for coming. She’s well, thank you.” We repeat this over and over and over. Shaking the damp and wrinkled hands, faces scrunched with pity. The procession marches on, an sea of black upon which crumpled parchment faces float from one wave to the…
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NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge #1 – Redemption
Redemption As a poor teenager on a scholarship to a private high school, Ethan fell in love with a rich, wayward and rebellious Imogen Howard, but knew he could never tell her how he felt. When she shows up unexpectedly as a patient in the rehabilitative nursing home where he works, everything he once felt for her comes rushing back… but will she ever let down her walls to let him in? * * * * * It started off as just another day. “New one in for you, Ethan,” Marie called out as I strode through the foyer. “I hear she’s fiery,” she added conspiratorially, stage whisper bouncing off…
