Microfiction
The Mother Buffer
"Mum, can I stay in town after school? Me and my mates are going to play football on the field for a bit." Jo thought about this. They were going away the next day which meant that she had packing to do and she really ought to make sure that all of the washing was done. Dinner, of course, needed to be cooked and then the washing up and the loading of the dishwasher. They had run out of milk so she had get that. She could really do with going home and getting on with things. She would leave work for school pick up and then it wouldn't be worth her going home because by the time she'd got home, she'd need to leave again. She'd be best to just hang around town and kill some time. Time that she didn't have. She supposed at least she would be able to get the milk from the supermarket on the main street. If she remembered. It might be nice to have a moment to herself although as she was thinking it, she knew that she would rather have that moment after everything that needed to be done was done. It would just be delaying the inevitable hurried rushing that awaited her.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
I am Robin
In order to enjoy this fully, you may want to read the following, or not, as the mood takes you: And: He put Carys down on the pallet in the corner. He hadn't slept on it in weeks. He set about lighting a fire, all the time conscious of Carys' fear and wariness. He understood. She would learn soon enough who he was and why he had rescued her.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Oval Door
Before starting this one, you may want to read this, which is the precursor to what happens here: *** Carys regained consciousness, after dreaming of bobbing about on a clear, blue water. It was serene, the sun warming her. She was happy to let it take her.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Dark Threat. Content Warning.
"And so our quest begins! And what a jolly troupe we are!" Argan's delight was not transmitting to the other two. Baffor was packing his horse and trying to resist the temptation to knock out the annoying little arse. Argan the arse! He smiled satisfyingly to himself at his nickname, which he would keep secret. For now. But if Argan kept on being so fucking cheerful, Baffor might have to do something. For his own sanity. The only thing that would redeem Argan was if he had some good stories for the fireside.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Gary's Break
"Gary, as a gentle story to break you in, can find something with an animal? A nice story. Of a rescue, or something." Gary listened to his editor and felt a bit disappointed. He wanted to be a gritty hard-nosed news reporter, investigating crime in the sleepy town of Hatford, not finding out about ducklings down drains or cats up trees.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Sock's Journey
It was impossible to see through the dense layers of blackness, but something continued to stir beyond the veil of my limited sight. Terrified of what was making the mysterious sounds, and having no way to defend myself, I did the only thing I could.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
To Every Sign I ignored, From Every Worry I'll have
The worries of yesterday always seem to creep up when things are at their brightest. Dusty skeletons I believed to be buried in their respective closets burst through flooding my mind. easily overthrowing any of the things I held in high regard. The scales are tipped and they rarely seem to fall in my favor. But when they do life has its way of reminding you.
By Somebody's Something 2 years ago in Fiction
88 Lunch Date at the Bloodbath & Beyond Bistro
They met as always, for lunch, at the Bloodbath & Beyond Bistro. It was their weekly ritual, and serial killers like them were all about rituals. They would meet n' eat and compare notes of their nefarious deeds of the week.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
