It was dark but for the stars twinkling above. Crouched behind a tree, her muscles were tight and she was ready to run. She clenched
This story is dedicated to Maureen Turner, who sent me the prompt: “Oh no, not again!” The young boy clambered onto the stage, darkness before
“’Ere, what’s your name, then?” the scruffy boy asks. He gazes up at the pompous looking podgy man, who stares at the empty road and
This story is dedicated to Svein Klunderud, who gave me the prompt: Keys, in his reader interview. He strides down the dark, dusty corridor,
This week’s short story is dedicated to Jo Rodrigues, who sent me the prompt: “Centred Pete, The Centipede” Pete stood at his window, watching the
“I will stamp on you, you mark my words,” I heard Queen Queenie screech to Robot One just outside the door to my work station.