Other Fiction

He is a grey man. Side-step him on a busy street and you’re faintly aware of his passing no more than that.

Beginning of what I hope will become a novel. A combination of fiction and lived experience.

...tears are fruitless...

Something my old Grandad would say.

‘I am safe with you,’ he said. He put his hand on my knee. I could feel the gun pressing against my bra.

On a hazy autumn afternoon, shaded by the faint brume of the grey skies that settled over low flats of the airy region, a slender woman in a red coat listened as a man in a leather jacket spoke to her

Just a very short start to my story, Smudged Graphite..

HUNGER HAS NO RESTRAINTS.............. COLOR OF BLOOD REMAINS THE SAME FOR PEOPLE OF ALL CASTES AND RELIGION... JUST THE THINKING DIFFERS.....

Craigs surprise doesn't quite go according to plan. A short story in 700 words.

The Surmai Feast
- Sunila Karir

Jason looked at Debbie and handed her the broom.

“Never let this out of your sight,” said Jason. “You’re going to need it.”

The first thing Debbie noticed about the Chelsea Book Shop was the aroma. There hung in the air an intoxicating blend of old books, coffee and cinnamon.

"I tell them not to look at me. To stop looking at me. Who are they to lay eyes on me?

The last fix.

On Saturday morning at eight thirty, Debbie Johnson approached the Chelsea Book Shop and felt like throwing up.

Emily and Fat Tony meet for a chat. Emily has an early day but has unexpected company.

Clara spends a night in Darkmoor.

200 words.

Rupert felt sleepy behind the wheel of his ‘65 Chevy as he waited for the old car to warm up. So he rolled down the window to let in some of that snowy fresh air.