Robert Craven
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My stories
The last Job
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THE LAST JOB “I always hated the rain,” said Brian. “Good for the farmers,” replied Ed. “The poor farmers,” “There’s no such thing.” “How do you know...
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- 409 reads
Holt: The Andalan Affair Chapter one (wip)
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Cairo 1956 A mosquito hovered lazily, moving in ever tighter decreasing circles, its drone nothing but a whisper. Sebastian Holt was awake and lay...
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- 891 reads
Along a Roman Road
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I’m travelling to Lexhane, along a Roman Road; Where twinkl’d glass beckons me through hidden river fords. To a pond that softly brooks and whispers...
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- 1652 reads
a Jazz copy called Vanessa
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I have a bass guitar, Its a Jazz-copy that I call Vanessa; Vanessa is my road bass, and travelled around with me in a battered old flight case. Along...
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- 557 reads
Quitting Time
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"Quitting time" A watch hand moves in a mechanical twitch A cigarette smoulders on a chipped china saucer A magazine title reads 'Want to start over...
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- 400 reads