Bryan Hallett
Bio
As prime suspect at a murder mystery company, I spend most of my writing time dreaming up interactive murder mysteries - but every now and then, another nugget of creativity shines forth and I love to share these where possible.
Stories (15)
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A Benchmark of Understatement
The British, and perhaps the English in particular, have a certain reputation for restraint and understatement. This reputation is not wholly undeserved (You see, I don't write "is totally justified", because, hey, I'm English, that's what we do, which is my point, really.)
By Bryan Hallett4 years ago in Humans
Deputy Dawg. Top Story - September 2021.
The best ideas so often come from the most random of places. In 2005 I was a succesful engineer, in charge of a team developing systems for a new helicopter. It was challenging work, but I faced a number of frustrations which frequently stopped it from being fun, and eventually decided it was time for my 20 year career to come to an end.
By Bryan Hallett4 years ago in Petlife
A Revenger's Tragedy
“ I will not tolerate that man anywhere near this theatre again,” yelled Angelica Lake, to no-one in particular throwing her mink stole onto the chaise lounge in the number one dressing room. “For God’s sake, Jessica, chuck that bouquet out, will you? I simply cannot have any reminder of that man’s existence in my own creative space. Jessica Purcell tried to suppress her frustration at this woman’s demands, and complied by unceremoniously dumping the wilting irises into a bin in the green room. She so hated that woman, with her constant stream of unreasonable demands and zero gratitude for all she had ever done for her.
By Bryan Hallett4 years ago in Fiction
Close Encounters of the Bird Kind
I’d gone to bed plugged into The Great Gaspy for as long as I could remember. Nathan had nicknamed my breathing machine that several years before he disappeared – mainly because he hated the wheezing sound it made when my mask wasn’t quite secure. Dad would usually just brush off his complaints and tell him just to ignore the noise. It helps me sleep, after all, and keeps my asthma at bay.
By Bryan Hallett4 years ago in Fiction
Black-Eyed Susan
Scrub, scrub, scrub. Scrub and scrub again. Ansell Rubber Co. Pty. Ltd “Marigold gloves” are great, but this rug’ll never be clean. It ain’t been since Missy were born. I never could get them stains out. Always a constant reminder of the pain and ignominy of her birth. Samson never got it, of course. He was off with his buddies, tossing horseshoes or whatever it was he got up to when she was born. And when he got home, drunk, as usual, he never even looked at her. Just patted me on the head like I was some barnyard animal to be petted and congratulated for a job well done. I’d calved my foal, and so now, I was simply required to nurture his spawn -my own daughter, let us not forget, until she was old enough to fly the coop and further his cursed bloodline through whatever means necessary. His ma may have been a whore, but in my mind, there was no way that Missy would be following in her footsteps. Poor Missy – she never deserved what she was dealt. Ironic really, I think, as I scrub away at this blood-stained rug. The last real gift he ever gave me was that pot of marigolds which are currently straining towards any light which this godforsaken kitchen may offer, and here I am, garbed in yellow Marigold gloves and a blood-flecked apron, attempting to eradicate any signs of his crimes.
By Bryan Hallett4 years ago in Fiction
Big Boys Don't Cryo
“Did any of you guys order anything in the last few days?” yelled Saskia as she attempted to manoeuvre around the box in the hallway so she could reach the front door. Its presence made getting through a habitually cluttered space even more precarious, and she swore loudly as she whacked her ankle on the mudguard on Tom's bike. That would be another gripe to be added to Saskia's list at the flat meeting that evening. If she could be bothered to host it in this heat.
By Bryan Hallett4 years ago in Fiction
