A series of short stories, mainly written either at my Creative Writing meetings or for homework, from first line prompts. I have purposefully used the same central characters, and will eventually roll these short stories into a book.
James was hiding behind a tree at the edge of the forest behind his sister’s cottage. He wondered how he was going to do it now. His sister had told him that Tony would be in bed by now and fast asleep, but here he was, planning a break-in, and there were lights on in the cottage. He could see the figure of a man sitting at his desk writing, under a desklamp.
His task was to break in and steal the documents in the writing desk drawer. Continue reading
Rachel’s first trip to England didn’t go as planned. A week before the trip, her horse threw her as she was attempting to jump it over a low hedge. The horse was fine, fortunately, but Rachel broke her leg. It was a compound fracture, and she would be on crutches for months, needing regular hospital treatment. A three month visit to England was out of the question.
A postal worker notices that the mailbox at one of his stops is overflowing, even though the family’s two cars are up the driveway. He is a temporary worker and forgets to report this fact to his superiors. He gets another job the next day, and doesn’t bother to return to complete his two weeks assignment on post relief.
Colin Cross, the regular postie, had been away for nearly two weeks doing up his house, but now he had been asked to come back a day early because the temp had left. He was not a happy chappy, but the promise of overtime was hard to resist. It was Friday and he could hopefully finish the job over the weekend.
He hurled the phone against the wall. It had been ringing incessantly for the last five minutes, so he knew it was urgent, but he had checked the phone and it was a withheld number. He presumed it was “him”.
The last twenty minutes were a blur. Continue reading
Janice was meticulous in her preparations for her departure. She wasn’t going to take much with her to America. It was going to be a new start for her. A new life in a new country. She packed one small suitcase with all she would need for her first few days in L.A. Then she planned to go shopping. Oh how she would shop!
We were all alone in the cold and clammy darkness. There was an eerie drip, drip, drip from somewhere further into the cave, almost muffled by the crashing of the waves against the rocks below us.
Why on earth had I let Rob persuade me to go climbing over the rocks with him? Even worse, why hadn’t we turned back while we still could before the tide came in? But there was no point worrying about that. We had to get through the night, marooned halfway up the cliff, with no means of contacting anyone. Why is it that mobile phones never have any reception when needed?
I wanted to sympathise with her, but inwardly I was elated that they had broken up. Rob had been my childhood sweetheart, later my boyfriend on and off throughout my teens. Jenny, my sister, had taken him away from me when I was nineteen. At the time, I was devastated, but I just shrugged my shoulders, saying that we were only ships passing in the night. Rob and I had been good mates, but he was always one with an eye for the girls, and I knew he would break my heart sooner or later.
She was a wonderful liar, my sister, always had been. Only I knew the truth.
Now there was likely to be a confrontation, here in my house. Ruth, my best friend, had come round in distress to tell me that she suspected that her husband, Des, was having an affair. My sister was visiting me at the same time, and she sat sympathising with Ruth as she voiced her suspicions. “You can’t trust a man further than you can throw him,” said my sister. “You should kick him out!” I glared at her. I could say nothing – how could I? She was my sister, and anyway, I didn’t want to upset my best friend Ruth any more than she already was.
