50 Word Stories – 3G

Behind every twitched curtain, eyes twinkled. The issue came with whether they twinkled with glee, gladness or gore. How could one judge a sparkle in the night, a flash in infinity except with one’s heart. So, I walked through that village to nowhere smiling sweet kindnesses. I didn’t walk out.

The New Shoes (5)

I hear them giggle. I feel them wiggle. I smell an unknown scent. My wife is with another man and a rage I have suppressed for a decade surfaces. Why I carry a knife I do not know, but I do and it feels good in my palm. I act before they stir. I stab […]

The New Shoes (4)

The landing has a familiar air that the other rooms have not. I know there’s a picture of Helen and myself looking right at me even if I can’t see it. The picture is yet another bane; it is of our wedding day, a constant reminder of my shackles.I sneak towards our bedroom: first door […]

The New Shoes (3)

I bumble my way across the dining room to the foot of the stairs. Here, I pause. I know full well the first three steps creak from shoddy workmanship. Even though our house is still new in the timespan of such things, the stairs are a constant noisy annoyance. I step to the right which […]

The New Shoes (2)

I run my fingertips across our new kitchen doors; they seem less polished, more ragged than the lacquered finish that cost me a holiday and a year of moaning. I don’t know why this is because I bought them for Helen, or so I convince my obsequious self each new day that I fawn upon […]

The New Shoes (1)

The gravel driveway crackles in explosions of conflicting mass, tyres on stones. It’s impossible to see who wins this war as the security light isn’t on. But it should be on? It’s always on?I skip from the car like a child of six just glad to be home from another remorseless evening, forget my briefcase, […]

As the Lights Dim

 “There’s never been a day without darkness.” I remember my dad’s words with a clarity not afforded much else. He’d adjusted his starched collar with one finger as he spoke them, a bead of sweat noticeable beside one eye. This was unlike him; he never got flustered. As I’m sure you’re thinking, too, every […]

Dead Enough

 One never expects to be told they’re dead not even by God himself. Is it not supposed to be a quick transition, a passage from light to dark to light again? Yet there I was lying in my hospital bed when a figure dressed head to toe in flowing black robes bent low and […]

50 Word Stories: Bathed in Green

 Two in the morning and I still can’t sleep. The night stands silent bereft of even cicadas. Everything is still. My bedside alarm blinks in slow motion illuminating a small, green patch of table, then flicks to darkness. When it flicks back, you’re there. You’re always there bathed in green.