Week 4

Dad is in the kitchen. Mum is in the back garden. Michael wants to play.
“Dad, can I go to the playground?” asks Michael.
“Not just yet,” says dad. “We’ll go this afternoon. Do you want to help with lunch?”
“No thanks,” Michael says as he turns away. He goes outside to find mum pulling some weeds.
“Mum, I want to go to the playground,” he says.
“We’ll go after lunch,” mum replies with a big smile. “It should be ready soon.”
Michael spins on the spot for a moment before making a decision.
He walks back through the house, past dad in the kitchen, past the TV and a couple of his toys left lying around, and out the front door.
Michael walks up the driveway and says hello to his cat. He walks past the letterbox and peers inside.
Standing on the footpath he announces to the world: “I want to go to the playground now!”
He looks up and down the street and back down the driveway.
There is no one around.
“And so I will,” he whispers as he checks left, right, left and begins to step across the road.
Before he takes his first step though, Michael’s stomach roars! It growls! It grumbles!
“Actually…” Michael says, looking down at where the sound is coming from. “I think I want to go after lunch.”
Michael spins on the spot once, twice, and a half. He is now facing back down the driveway to where he imagines the walls disappear and he can see through to the kitchen.
He walks down the driveway, past the letterbox and past his cat (who is ignoring him).
He opens the front door and walks past the TV and his toys, which have been tidied up.
He walks past dad in the kitchen and straight to the fridge.
“Grab the juice, son,” says dad. “Lunch is served!”
“And after lunch,” adds mum, “we’ll go to the playground.”
Michael smiles.
“That sounds like an excellent idea.”


Week 3

It’s so loud. Can everyone hear it?
Thump. Thump.
If they can’t hear it, at they will see it. Surely.
Thump. Thump.
Every heartbeat like a hiccup as it attempts to force itself out; desperately trying to move past her ribs.
Thump. Thump.
This is the moment. No turning back. She takes a step towards the stage.
A thousand tiny pins stab through her chest, directly into her heart. From the outside it looks like someone simply pressed pause, her body freezing mid-step.
Inside, the tiny pins continue to prick at her heart, while more travel in pods, firing down her arm, tearing up nerves, ripping apart anything they touch.
She tries to move forward, manages a couple of steps before dropping to her knees.
She can feel the vibrations of shoes against wood as people rush to her aid, but the pins are spreading throughout her body, shutting off sound, and now, sight.
The pain is burning. Her heart feels like it is being torn apart. The nerves of her arm are going through a shredder.
She can barely feel the touch of helpers as they lie her onto the cool floor and roll her onto her side.
Everything goes black.

Week 2

Scott’s eyes were heavy but his thoughts buzzed loudly. Endless ideas and memories flickering and fighting for attention.
‘At least it’s still today and not tomorrow’, he thought.
The glaring red light of the clock radio burnt the numbers into his eyes as Scott rolled away from the light.
Six hours until his alarm clock would start screaming. Just six hours until he would have to drag himself out of bed and into the shower. Six and a half hours until he had to be in the car. Seven hours until he had to be at work. Eight until his first big meeting of the day. Nine… Scott yawned.
Nine, eight, seven, six… Asleep at last.

Week 1

The shake of a rattlesnake sounded from behind.
There were no snakes in this country, let alone in the back of the car and almost as immediately as the thought had formed, it was replaced with the realisation that the noise had been a rear window wiper, rarely used.
As rain flooded the windscreen and the wipers sliced the water not quick enough to scurry away, her thoughts danced back to the image of a rattlesnake; lying in wait, slithering amongst Christmas presents and over-packed suitcases.
Of course there was no snake, but it was nice to think that life held some surprises and excitement even now.

It’s a Monday thing

Well hello there!

I work in radio, which is good for me as I like to talk a lot. But I also like to write.
Whether it’s short stories or tweets or… well, I guess now… blog.

There’ll be opinions, links and photos on here but I also have a new attempt for 2013… to write a paragraph or two of fiction each Monday.

It’s up to you how you take this – you can either see it as a short story or use it as a beginning for your own writing (I’d love to see anything done with it!)

I can’t promise that anything written on a Monday will be good, but comments are always appreciated.