
Mat Barnsley
Bio
I strive to make sense of the world through writing. I break it apart, twist it, and bend it until it reflects new light. I invite you to see the world cast through my written stained-glass windows.
Stories (33)
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The waiting room: a retrospective
Read the short story here: https://shopping-feedback.today/fiction/the-waiting-room-vu7d30ir4 When I wrote "The Waiting Room," I wanted to explore not just the uncertainty of death, but the profound sadness, shock and trauma that accompanies the sudden loss of life, specifically in this story I wanted to explore the very sad, and very real occurrence of a school shooting. At first glance, the story appears to centre around a young girl, Clara, simply waiting for a routine doctor’s appointment. But I wanted to subtly layer in the true nature of the situation, letting it unfold slowly so the reader experiences the same creeping realization as Clara does.
By Mat Barnsleyabout a year ago in Chapters
The waiting room.... Content Warning.
The door creaked shut behind the girl as she stepped into the waiting room, clutching her school bag tightly in one hand. The smell of vanilla hung in the air, and a faint hum emanated from the above overhead lights. She glanced around. The waiting room looked just like any other doctor's office she had been in. Worn chairs lined the meticulously painted pale green walls, and faded, well-read magazines strewn on the coffee table. The girl traced her eyes along the walls to an enormous clock which ticked slowly, each second dragging on as if the room itself was caught in a time loop.
By Mat Barnsleyabout a year ago in Fiction
Do lizards smile?
I went to London on a couple of occasions before emigrating to the United States, not because I felt a duty or need to visit the capital before leaving the country, but because it was necessary to do so as part of the emigration process to move, being where both the physician and embassy are located. I found London as a city to be a foul and repulsive place, the streets were certainly not paved with gold, but they did have plenty of brass sitting on dirty old hats which lined the thoroughfares, cardboard mountains piled just out of sight and out of view of the camera frames, and graffiti seemingly done by the dyslexic and artistically challenged victims of the English schooling system.
By Mat Barnsleyabout a year ago in Chapters
Why do I do what I do?
I get asked on a semi-regular basis when it comes to my work, "Why do you write what you write?"; It's a relatively difficult question to answer in such a nonchalant, brief manner. The opposing person, "the questioner" as I'll call them, often merely wants a quick and simple, yet poignant response and I find that in those situations my default answer almost always ends up simply being "I enjoy it". It's not the best answer to give I know, however, to answer it truthfully would require me and the questioner to engage in a rather deep and meaningful conversation about me and my life and it's hard to do that with a stranger who's merely asking out of a small curiosity as to why I write.
By Mat Barnsleyabout a year ago in Writers











