Short stories
Short but thought provoking tales for the 5 minute reader.
Opening lines and a link to read it all.
Emotional and complete, lose your world and enter mine.
Away with the faries
I remember that day, like it was yesterday. Well it actually may well have been for all I know. I was sitting by the french doors, which were wide open letting the warmth from the sun stream in, when I got to thinking about something I decided to call perspective. Who knows if it was the heat of the day or just me being me, but there I was warm and contended, a smile on my face, drinking in the day
The Taxi Ride
Standing on the pavement I move from one leg to the other, coat pulled in, collar up and hands balled tight rubbing against each other. My briefcase sits beside me delicately balanced on the footpath. The cold biting wind of winter permeating through to my every bone. I turn my head side to side looking down the road, through squinted eyes, each way, willing the taxi to arrive.
Kick the can
I have no idea why I decided to do it at that particular time. I suppose apathy and boredom were the catalyst. Was there any point to it? Well yes there was, for me anyway. It gave me a sense of personal satisfaction. Just the knowing I was doing something for me, for everyone, was enough. What about the ramifications, what do I think of that? I had no idea quite what I had begun but I would do it again in a heartbeat. These things need to be aired and this was the only way I could think of at the time. It wasn’t really planned, more of a spur of the moment thing, but it made me feel good. Do I make any apology for my actions? Hell no. It had to be done. It was all I could think of at the time.
The Night Shift
James Jones was 45 and single. He lived quietly in his flat on the top floor of a high rise block. He mostly kept himself to himself. Certainly his direct neighbours had probably never ever seen him. That was the way he liked it and it had to be. James had been released from prison three years earlier having served nearly twenty years for manslaughter, he drove his car and hit a cyclist killing her dead. She died an agonising death taking several hours.
A change for the better?
Brian sat by the window. He had sat there every day for the last five years, ever since his wife’s passing. How he missed her, but that was life. At 89 years of age they had a good 50 years together before the cancer took her away. He was over that now. He had no children and even when his wife was alive he didn’t mix well. His wife was popular in the village and was always popping out to see someone or to nip to the shop. Now she was gone there was nobody.
The Last Supper
Shortlisted competition finalist May 2021
Lydia relaxed in the bath, closed her eyes and pondered her last ten years. The bath had been dutifully prepared by her husband, James. Bath salts, bubbles and scented candles creating a giddy aroma filling the room. Classical music floated into the bathroom from the bedroom speaker. She was truly being spoilt. Their tenth anniversary and James was making an enormous effort. ‘At last he is appreciating me for who I am.’ She thought to herself.
Contemplating Death
Peter was driving home, when the call came through. He slowed the car, pulling into an entranceway to a field.
“Hello doctor, do you have the results?”
“Hi Peter, Yes, is it ok to talk?”
Paying your respects
Janet got up and walked away from the coffin. Moving slowly past the mourners; some of whom sat on the sofa in quiet contemplation; others standing in small groups making idle chat. She made her way beyond her husband and the two children and out into the hall. Sunlight streamed in through the open doorway at the front of the house. Janet headed out.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
That was the last visit. Cathy left the prison gates and strode away, giant confident steps, her shoulders back and her head held high. She left behind her ex-husband and abuser.
The Lucky Coin
“Now, Charles, take this lucky coin and carry it wherever you go.”
The final words from the fortune teller as she left the caravan at the funfair. Slipping it into his pocket, Charles ambled off heading towards the exit. It had been a lovely day, reminiscent of his childhood, one day a year as a child with his mum. Now an adult he was there alone. His wife couldn’t quite understand him, but it was his strongest link to his past, and gypsy Sara Lee has given him guidance every year.
The madness monologue
Looking back now, I have to wonder if it was me, or simply the way I was brought up that left me in this strange situation. I’m only 23 but my life is effectively over. How did it happen? Let me tell you about it and see if you can help me.
I was raised on a council estate, the middle child of three boys. My parents had a two bedroom flat so all the boys shared a bedroom. Of course we fought, but we had a deep ingrained respect for one another as well, we were family after all. The house was a mess. There was rubbish everywhere, the kitchen was full of dirty dishes and the main room with the TV was a potential death trap with syringes discarded on the floor and bits of foil and burned teaspoons on an old secondhand wooden coffee table.
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