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It was then, as he was just about to bring his hands flutteringly down, that the most extraordinary smell assailed my nostrils
What dark resentments stir in the primitive brain of Frankenstein?
The Neanderthal’s dog had been barking all day.
- Length: 6 pages
- Age Rating: 15
- Genre: Fiction
In thirty-eight years my writing on the labels had changed from big and wonky to neat and tiny.
Not even the best shepherd can keep his flock completely safe
The water is pink, the blood seeping into the crystals.
Haut Graves became hot graves, in his mouth.
Kerryn watched as the lotus bud took shape...
Two travellers meet on the night flight from Bangalore.
A young boy heads to the pond to go fishing but catches something much bigger along the way.
They heard the sirens in the distance and they watched the flames gasping into the night and he thought that this must be what the end of the world was going to look like.
Relaxing at home, Fernando spots an attractive young woman on the balcony opposite.
In 1954, a round-the world hitch-hiker takes a break in Jamaica
A man is asked to collect some items from a house where the lover of an old acquaintance recently died.
Sometimes everything depends on the odds.
A game of Scrabble has serious consequences.
“Go to Goldman’s Greenhouses. Joseph … will start you … at a buck sixty an hour.” His lungs empty of smoke, “Go talk to him. He’s your uncle. He’ll hire you.
A semi-barbaric king devises a semi-barabaric (but entirely fair) method of criminal trial involving two doors, a beautiful lady and a very hungry tiger.
Detective Inspector Dave Box entered the room: an elderly man sat motionless in a wheelchair in a blue dressing gown open at his pale chest, revealing sparse hairs and a plastic tube entering the bottom of his throat.
My mum is the undisputed tea-drinking heavyweight champion of the world… or at least the whole of South Lexington Avenue.
Shepherd's family made money by being outlaws. Well, outlaws in the governments' eyes.
Olly Rice had given his life to literature, but what had literature given him? A wound in the head that oozed something worse than blood or brain matter.
Dessie O'Connell was 6 feet 3, thick of bone, and naturally muscular. Unlike almost all of the actors with whom he'd first competed for parts, he hardly needed to work out in order to resemble a Hellenic god.
The spark of his life was fading, but his mind was still sharp, and his memories cocooned him.
"Damn thing," old Ernie muttered, glancing up from his laptop. He reached out to shut off the annoying noise but noticed the call was from his area. This was unusual.
