H R Honeybun
Bio
I can usually be found reading a book, or chasing my toddler around the house. My short stories have been published in Black Book Magazine and Flash Fiction Online. I live in Vancouver, with my husband, two cats and our baby girl.
Stories (2)
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Leave Room for Dessert
"I ordered the Merlot, I hope that is ok?" he said, passing the filled glass across the table towards her. She smiled timidly at him, pushing the glass up against her nose and inhaling. She wasn't a fancy wine person, that was for sure. On occassion she would buy a cheap box from the local store, the kind that burnt the back of your throat as you drank it. This one was rich, and warm. She felt her toes tingle. As she sipped she began to relax.
By H R Honeybun5 years ago in Humans
Buried Treasure
Reggie Somerville was somewhat of an oddity. He had always been an eccentric, but the current world he was occupying made his existence an antiquation. He had settled into island living almost twenty years before, when he and his wife, Moira had retired. (This was at a time when retirement was still possible.) It was everything they planned until it wasn’t. Moira had gone too soon, and Reggie was lost. He had tried the usual things to reacquaint himself with the society in which he now found himself. He frequented coffee shops, soon learning that sitting with a coffee and looking out at the world was a thing of the past. Now people nursed strange concoctions known as pour overs, and allowed the world to pass them by behind the glow of a screen. The island he had known was swarming with hipster aliens and he didn’t enjoy their company one bit. Instead he sought solitude outside, losing himself on hikes or kayaking expeditions. His sons had told him he was too old to be gallivanting off without letting one of them know, but what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t stay at home, sitting across from Moira’s empty chair all day. When Reggie had fallen on one of his favourite trails, realizing all too late that he had left his phone on the nightstand he thought that perhaps his sons were right. After thirty-two hours on the side of a mountain waiting for the next hiker to pass him by it was a foregone conclusion.
By H R Honeybun5 years ago in Families
