“What have I done? This isn’t funny.”
He’s terrified, of course he is. It’s like a nightmare. His supposed best friend has just taken him to a strange home, mainly full of slowly moving old people and earnest, mumbling bearded men in pants. I even let one of the crazies play cards with us and joke with him. Just when he was starting to find it a bit funny and enjoy himself I told him that I have to go. I have to go and he has to stay. When he starts getting a little loud and realises that I am being serious. He stands to leave but orderlies come in to calm him down and comfort him. However, the more they attempt to sooth him and talk familiarly with him the more confused he gets. He starts to get agitated and almost aggressive as they linger, ready to restrain him.
“Get off me! How do you know my name? I don’t know you.”
I feel on the brink of tears as I leave him. I’ve let him down but I can’t do anything else.
I still don’t totally understand it. He’s usually fine. But today it’s like for a moment he forgot where he’s been living. Or maybe it’s more like he remembered for too long, and that can be unkind.
I think about his words again as I get into my new car that’s lost its novelty. The words linger in my head. What have I done? This isn’t funny.
Because some days it isn’t. Read More.
I’m lying on my bed with my chin hanging over the side, wondering whether I’ll get up now or wait a little bit and be late. Something like a heavy fly falls from the curtain into a box full of books under the window. Read more.
The voices from downstairs gently wake me. I can’t make out words but I can tell who’s talking from the depth and pattern of their speech. It sounds like we have a full house this morning. Since everyone is about I should get up and join them; they’re probably having breakfast together. In five minutes I’ll rouse and either see if I can help or guiltily eat some of what they’re making. Stupid, I fall asleep again. I only realise I didn’t actually get up as I had planned when I re-awake minutes later.
‘Be careful on the way back, it’s slippery,’ I said to my sister, feeling like that’s a really big brotherly thing to say as we went in our separate ways home from our brother’s flat. As if on cue, I slipped and nearly toppled over. I turned, of course she saw. She laughed at me as I sloped off round the corner.
As I walked home I listened to the way the Sunday night snow popped under my footsteps. I always loved the way it crunched under my feet as I compacted it. An inch is quite a lot for England; it’s a hell of a lot for London. Read more.
Sam zipped up and picked his way through the gravestones and back onto the path. Grinning, he took the cider bottle from his friend. He swigged it and passed it back, hoping that the others would have brought something so they wouldn’t scab off them.
Actually, hold that a sec, I’m gonna go too, Jay said nipping between the grassy graves. Sam waited on the path, looking over at a tomb with a worn down statue of something on the top of it.
Whoa. Sam. Come and look at this.
I saw it last time you stayed round mine and I don’t want to see it again, thanks.
Hehe, no, I’m not talking about that, the beast’s back in his cave. This is something else. Sam found where his friend had stopped and read the engraving he was pointing at.
Spooky eh? Samuel Phillips.
That’s not my middle name though. Read More.
Dedicated to Maurice Sendak
I love talking about Monsters, when the mobile library came round I got the best book about monsters which I bring to school everyday. It teaches you how to identify all the main types of monsters. The best bit about it is when it shows you what their weaknesses are and how to defeat them. It’s basically my guide-book to keep me safe. I’m definitely the best at knowing about monsters in my age category anyway in case I lose it.
She could hear something going on that she didn’t like the sound of. It was something that she usually liked the sound of but she was used to being able to see it as well, and make some sound herself. She rushed up the stairs silently, despite herself she wanted to catch them at it. She hated that slut from the moment she lay eyes on her. Felicia or whatever her name was, the one that flirted with Johnny shamelessly when she was there, knowing she was winding her up. After all she had done for him, he was cheating on her. She couldn’t believe it. She could believe it. She swung open the door. Read More.
Go on without me
The gun feels light in his hand as Mike watches the first armed guard fall over the balcony.
Bang bang bang bang.
He shoots the next two before they can get a shot off and stops the other from pressing the alarm over on his left. He’s under fire from somewhere above so he ducks behind a low wall to reload. He’s seen where the sniper is hiding and picks him off. As each new enemy pops up he takes them out. Minutes later he’s made his way to the penthouse suite of the heavily fortified castle where his girlfriend is being held captive by the evil prince. Read more.
She squeezed him in the doorway and he could smell that she was drunk already, as she kissed his cheek. She was a jovial drunk though and it had been a while since he had seen her. His friend was introduced and hugged. He passed a bag with some bottles of wine to the host who, smiling, managed to accept them without actually taking them. Jonah had strategically given the bag for his friend to hold just before they arrived while he tied his shoelace. Since he was meeting people for the first time he wanted to add to a good first impression. Read More
I will post another short story for you as part of the ongoing Eat My Shorts series tonight. The illustration is by my partner in crime, Danny Chidgey of Lazy Gramophone, who provided the wonderful inky pictures for my book Tastes of Ink