He lived with me. No contract had been signed. I didn't ask for a lodger. I had asked on multiple occasions for him to leave. When it became obvious he wouldn't leave without a prompt, I packed a polythene bag full of sandwiches and threw it up the garden, where it smashed into my lame … Continue reading The House Guest
She watched, trembling, as he put his purchases on the counter and took his wallet from his trousers, gave the woman a crisp five pound note. He had green apples, a tin of ham, fresh milk, chocolate digestives, and a jar of something. The jar had a cream sticker on its front: a picture of … Continue reading Death by Fruit.
I opened my eyes onto red brick. Long since I had opened them onto anything more. I pulled myself upright, which was somewhat difficult and stared across the road at galvanised steel. Nothing. A spider with a body like a tiny black pin prick whispered across the grey, concrete step and disappeared into a hole. … Continue reading Shadow Lives
I didn't hear anyone. I had been playing with my doll, putting a new pink dress on her. It was a cheap doll and its body was hollow, not rubbery like a Barbie. They couldn't afford expensive toys, not now daddy had lost his job. A person grabbed my arm and I threw the doll … Continue reading Surplus
‘Mornin!’ Isla threw her woven shopping bag to the floor and quickly untied her headscarf. ‘Mornin,’ Alick shouted from behind the counter, bent down, picking up an array of books donated by a young woman earlier that morning. It had been such a large pile they had collapsed and fallen to the floor, scattered themselves … Continue reading The Village – A Story About The Consequences Of War
Bob Lightfoot held the large, shiny packet in his hand. It contained exactly 150 grams. He tore it open and removed the contents one by one. Piled them on top of the wooden table in front of him. A table full of dirty pots and pans, an opened jar of Strawberry Jam, a loaf … Continue reading Bob Lightfoot.
A short story involving Thatcher, a crime and a long hot school holiday, published by the fabulous, Sick Lit Magazine. I do hope you like it. https://sicklitmagazine.com/2017/04/21/memories-by-henrietta-ross/
I am over at the brilliant Twisted Sister Lit Mag today with a twisted tale. Enjoy. https://twistedsisterlitmag.com/2017/01/05/fiction-daddy-has-red-lips/
The last house on the street, separated by thick woodland to the left and an old tin shed to the right. Most of the neighbourhood stayed away. They knew the Talbot's. Arthur Talbot was a cantankerous old fool who chased the kids off his land with his shotgun or threatened them in the street with … Continue reading A Halloween Short Story.