Jamie Horton
Bio
Almost finished my first novel with a second in part production. Have mainly written poetry and now looking at short stories. I love to write and share ideas with others.
Stories (4)
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Tilly
Tilly Having been brought up by domineering evangelists, who believed that their word was the only word, my freedom from the flock came at a cost. Extricating oneself from any manner of perceived cult is never an easy feat, and that much more difficult when the leaders are bound to you by sinew, blood and bone. Tammy and Jack had managed to misrepresent, misconstrue and miscommunicate for my entire 16 years which had left such an imprint that I felt it impermeable and unlikely to ever truly come out in the wash. Of course, my world view was not only tinted and warped beyond the concrete but also the conceptual and before the reprogramming could commence, I had to undergo some very intense counselling. It was a confusing time with one manacle loosening enough to be replaced by, what I thought, was a distractingly shiny and new one. Whilst this was a modicum less manipulative, we had only just met and time would provide the necessary confirmation.
By Jamie Horton5 years ago in Fiction
An assemblage of things
She was kind and thoughtful and found me, that first day, sitting alone and crying waterfall tears into my sister’s handkerchief. I was six and felt lonely and sad. My father had ‘passed on’ and was gone to be loved by another child that was not me. I hadn’t understood the language of my elders and had thought papa had moved away to a better place without me. I must have been bad. It must have been my fault.
By Jamie Horton5 years ago in Fiction
Not quite Hollywood after all.
“Jump”, was the last thing I heard before the darkness consumed us. Why it always has to happen in the dark is beyond me. It’s as if Hitchcock is reaching out from behind the veil and mocking our idiocy. “Jump woman, bloody jump”… and now I am jumping into an abyss because I obviously can’t see a thing. I recall an overly obvious trust exercise in school where we had to close our eyes and fall backwards into the ambiguously outstretched arms of Berian the Bully and that girl from down our street with Tourette’s, but this is next level faith and I am renown for my faithlessness.
By Jamie Horton5 years ago in Fiction
Waking from a Dying Dawn
I gave up hoping of something better the moment she left. Two of us. That was the pact. Two halves of a whole, one heart beating in tandem, a unity that strengthened our resolve and made us resilient against the world. You will not understand what this means if you haven’t sheltered a moment in our shadow and seen it intertwined along the darkest edge. I never truly knew how feted our air was until all reason for breathing was taken from me. We were … we are the … last.
By Jamie Horton5 years ago in Fiction
