Joe Forsyth
Bio
I am a full time athlete and coach looking for a creative outlet...
Stories (3)
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The cosmic bookshop
The book shop felt oppressively narrow, a feeling that wasn't helped by the fact that air hung thick with dust and the scent of musty old books. The shop consisted of two parallel corridors flanked with bookshelves that disappeared back into darkness; each bookshelf bowed under its heavy load. The man behind the battered wooden counter seemed almost catatonic, despite his stupor he sat bolt upright on a three legged wooden stool, no mean feat considering his obviously advanced age. Peter moved further into the shop, past the old man, down one of the aisles, noticing immediately how the book lined walls deadened all sound from outside. He sauntered down the book lined passage, eyes sliding over the typical assortment of second hand books- entire shelfs of unread biographies and walls of literary classics studied in every school up and down the country. However he noticed as he continued that only one copy of each book appeared on the shelves, no duplicates. Determined to find a double he delved deeper into the shop. Passing countless alcoves containing old threadbear armchairs with a reading light above them, he continued. The books seemed to become older and less distinctive; the faded fabric covers with paling gilt titles on their spines seemed to blur into one monotone shelf.
By Joe Forsyth3 years ago in Fiction
Lake of Dragons
“There weren't always Dragons in the valley”. Grandad leaned forwards conspiratorially, the hushed circle of little ones automatically followed suit. “Back when I was a lad, this was a bustling fishing village, we alone knew the secrets to pluck the sweet treasures from the depths of our lake”. His eyes clouded with the far off look of reminiscence, that and cataracts. “Back then we had the whole lake we didn’t cower in the shallows, scraping a life off what the dragons left us”.
By Joe Forsyth4 years ago in Fiction
