Paul Wilson
Bio
On the East Coast of England (halfway up the righthand side). Have some fiction on Amazon, World's Apart (sci-fi), and The Runechild Saga (a fantasy trilogy - I'm a big Dungeons and Dragons fan).
Stories (31)
Filter by community
What Mummy Would Want
Timmy Roberts altered the angle on his magnifying glass, squeezing the sun's light into a tight laser beam, and made suitable 'zap' noises. The ant must have known what was happening, for the moment the tiny white dot flashed across it the insect put on a dizzying burst of speed that was almost difficult to follow. The six-year-old persevered, however, and after the third time the tiny creature gave a shudder and curled up into a ball in less than a second. There were lots of ants in the garden today, but Timmy didn't get chance to laser another one. "Timmy! Time to come in now, please!"
By Paul Wilson5 years ago in Fiction
Life After Life
I heard a sharp crack, and for some inexplicable reason I was in no doubt that the pistol was aimed at me. Maybe it was the garbled mixture of images flashing through my mind, as if I were watching two-hundred-and-eighty-thousand videos simultaneously, each one playing an hour of my thirty-two years of life in a fraction of a second. Maybe it was the acute pinhead of agony illegally accessing my brain, hacking into the operating system of the software and corrupting it beyond hopes of salvation, shortly before unplugging the whole thing and smashing it into an unrecognizable mass with all the inertia of a sledgehammer.
By Paul Wilson5 years ago in Fiction
Adventure Awaits
I have always been drawn to fantasy. Steve Jackson has a lot to answer for. If you don't know the name, he used to do 'choose your own adventure' books: The Warlock of Firetop Mountain; City of Thieves; Deathtrap Dungeon. There were more. Many more. Those were my favorites. In a world of dwarves, elves and magic, the impossible became real.
By Paul Wilson5 years ago in Gamers
The Pack
Harry didn't know what to do. He couldn't go home. It wouldn't save him. Anyway, he loved his wife and he didn't want to be responsible for a second corpse. The leather of the briefcase under his arm was cold against his sodden shirt, and he clutched it there desperately as if it were some kind of shield that would protect him. It wouldn't.
By Paul Wilson5 years ago in Horror
Message in a Bottle
Hey there. This your first one? There are a few out there, not sure how many. You lose count after a while. Pens aren't that common anymore, ones that work, anyhow. Something to write 'on' is easier to find than something to write 'with', but I guess that was always the case. Even 'before' I had an aversion to pens, or was that the other way around? Was it just me, or does that sound like you, too? Still, with that in mind, I have to tell you that this pen is about done, and I don't have another, so if this message suddenly stops then you know why, and I apologise in advance.
By Paul Wilson5 years ago in Fiction
