Michael Darvall
Bio
Quietly getting on with life and hopefully writing something worth reading occasionally.
Achievements (1)
Stories (43)
Filter by community
Weaving a Tangled Web
Where do stories start? A story might start “once upon a time”, but that’s what it starts with. It might start with Grand Vizier Rumpole glaring at his chief court adversary, Duke De Stihle, but that is part of the who. No, where stories start is bound up tightly with when they start. And this story starts one evening, at the pub.
By Michael Darvall11 months ago in Fiction
The Fall of the Digital Gavel
2050, Monday November 28th, LC Station 17 Programmer 17 eased back from her work-station and stretched, then rubbed her eyes. The role of Legislative Computist was highly respected and highly paid, but it came with intense demands to operate at the very highest levels in both law and computing. She stretched again, called the amin assistant to get her another coffee, then bent back to her work.
By Michael Darvallabout a year ago in Futurism
Learning to walk on the road to equality. Content Warning.
Dear Grace. You challenged the world, and in so doing, made me see it differently, and it cost you all too much. It’s 2017. Australia is holding a plebiscite – a non-binding national vote – to determine if we should legalise same-sex marriage. No, wait, to see if we should introduce a bill to parliament that proposes legalising same-sex marriage. So even if the country votes “yes” the politicians might still vote “no”, and gay and lesbian couples will remain, in the eyes of the law, second class citizens. In Australia. In 2017.
By Michael Darvallabout a year ago in Humans
The Song of the Wild in the Concrete Jungle
Melody tried to block out the incessant sound of traffic that rushed along the overpass above her. She focused on the five river stones and placing them in the correct order – it was vital she get this right, and time was running out as the solstice sun approached the horizon. With each stone placed she murmured another phrase of the ritual.
By Michael Darvall2 years ago in Fiction
The Little Grembly Ladies’ Association Soiree. Second Place in Summer Solstice Challenge.
The town of Little Grembly was generally considered by the residents of the surrounding regions to be the absolutely dullest place imaginable. As a satellite suburb of Turping, it comprised housing developments and a shopping mall that had: a supermarket, a hairdresser, a liquor store that sold only mainstream brands, and half a pub – the other half being a small white-goods store that appeared to specialize in toasters and hair-straighteners. Consequently Grembly was avoided by almost anyone of taste, interest or good sense.
By Michael Darvall2 years ago in Fiction
A Sting Twice Over
He stared at the heart, nestled in the cabinet draw, slick and shiny and with tendril like filaments or tubes that disappeared into the recesses of the cabinet; a glutinous web of controlling strings. In the centre of that fleshy mass was an eye, huge and round and bright, rolling madly back and forth. And then it winked at him.
By Michael Darvall2 years ago in Horror
Air Fall in the Summer. Content Warning.
Alan “Big Al” Compton shifted his brawny bulk in the lounge room arm chair. It creaked and protested under his weight. He held his mug of tea, engulfed in one hand – the handles were always too puny for his thick fingers – and took a slurp. Janice had made it just right; she oughta by now, after 25 years together.
By Michael Darvall2 years ago in Fiction
The Darkwood Awakening
“Run,” says Gabrial, “and don’t look back.” “What?” says Dawydd, “why?” But Gabrial is already running, dashing along the forest path, light and shade dappling her lithe form. Dawydd runs, not a sprint, but quickly enough to be gaining on Gabrial.
By Michael Darvall2 years ago in Fiction
