Raymond G. Taylor
Bio
Author living in Kent, England. Writer of short stories and poems in a wide range of genres, forms and styles. A non-fiction writer for 40+ years. Subjects include art, history, science, business, law, and the human condition.
Stories (158/663)
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Witches of the waterfront
"Bless this day and make it fruitful. Bring me a man with gold coin, a hatful." Jacinda's sing-song voice was a delight to hear on a bright spring morning, as the four women strutted through the streets on their way to the harbor market. Baskets on their heads, laden with their simple wares, the women teased and taunted the good people they passed. Many shook their heads at so brazen a procession, some mouthing "harlots" or even "witches" under their breath. Witches they may have been, harlots they were not.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 years ago in Fiction
Run with the Pack: Chapter 11
When Bahr returned from his night’s hunt for food, unlike Elha, he did not bring a freshly killed carcass with him. His muzzle was hardly bloodied from the scraps and carrion that he had unearthed on his circuitous route through the labyrinth of the forest. There would be no family feasting that morning. A wolf could not expect to feast every day and would soon grow to a lardy, disfigured lump, if it did, and would likely fall prey to the forest. Feast followed by famine was what kept the wolf sleek and fast at the chase and allowed it to fight off any kill thief, whether wolf, bear or just a mangy, scavenging no-wolf.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 years ago in Fiction
The witches’ granddaughters
Shepherd's crook and monkish cassock, Crucifix and jewelled haddock. The words were chanted over a pitch pot aflame in wreathes of slick and slimy smoke, on a solid island within the rank marshlands beyond the western wall of the city.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 years ago in Fiction
Cottage in the forest
For many days I trekked through the King's forest known as Sherwood, in Nottinghamshire, fearing I was walking in circles. I was also nervous, for the paths I trod were reputed to be patrolled by vagabonds and cut-throats, not least the notorious outlaw know locally as Robin in the Hood. I was heading for the city of Nottingham, wherein my betrothed awaited me.
By Raymond G. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
How the Earth came to be blue
At the beginning, in the time before men, the world was a vast wilderness of rock and sand: dull, flat, monotonous and uncaring. There were no trees, no flowers, no meadows, no rivers or valleys, no wind and no rain, no day, no night. Just vast empty plains and rocks sweltering under an endless Sun. The only creatures to walk the Earth were fauns. Playful, horned, hoofed, happy fauns. Watched over from the heavens above by Mother Sky and her two daughters Soul and Song.
By Raymond G. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
Lord help poor fishermen
“Lord ’elp poor fisherm’n on a night like this!” said Jim to himself as he stood at the rear of the Crow’s Nest Inn, watching the French fishing smack fight heavy seas as it crossed the bay, lashed by wind and rain. He pulled his collar tight around his neck. As a lad, working the nets with his father and brothers, Jim always knew he would find something better.
By Raymond G. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
Reach for the sky
Swooping low over the runway, the Spitfire throttled back to a roar of highly-tuned Merlin engine, making a perfect landing on the grass strip at Kenley. Flight Sergeant McKinley nodded his approval as the pilot taxied neatly into position by the fuel bowser.
By Raymond G. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
The inside job
I was nervous as hell that day. It had all been arranged. As one of only three senior executives with access to the strong room combination, I was alone out back with Christmas takings of over $2.5m in used notes awaiting cash-in-transit collection. The heist mob agreed a cut of $250,000 to me as the inside man. The plan was for the heavies to arrive at exactly the moment I opened the walk-in safe. Two men inside the safe and one outside, holding me up with a gun to the head. Just for appearances of course.
By Raymond G. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
