The ten leaders of the greatest country on the planet Girth sat in an emergency meeting. Civil unrest plagued the land. Something had to be done.
The oldest and wisest man – they were all men – spoke. His words were weighty. He put the facts on the table in a statesmanlike way. Only a few years ago, he was the supreme leader, but when his charisma faded a new leader, Peter, was elected. The Minister of Commerce, Still Gates, was a powerful man who benefited from small to no change in society.
Michael peeled an orange for me. Late summer or more properly early autumn and we had rented a villa in Greece, seven of us all from the same year at uni. A research trip, nominally, but the sunshine and the pool and the late warmth were a bonus. Paul didn’t come, he had been seeing practice all summer with a large animal vet near home which resulted in tickets for the races, tickets hard to come by and therefore precious that he didn’t want to waste.
Michael and James arrived later, driving a silly little hired car. They brought with them laughter and cheap wine.
Minutes of Meeting dated 05.11.13. 15.30pm
Those Present:
Jane McGuire – Unit Manager
Claire Green – Assistant Unit Manager
Andrew Reid – Nurse In Charge
Peter Welsh – Health Care Assistant
Mandy Fraser – Health Care Assistant
Jean Duncan – Clerical Assistant (Taking Minutes)
Continue reading “For The Best by Hugh Cron – Adult content”
It was a grey April morning in downtown LA. I’d stopped outside my office to relight a stale cigarette butt. A woman was standing on the sidewalk just a few yards away, dressed in a red two-piece, the shade of an irate poinsettia. She was looking at me.
‘You Marlowe?’ she asked.
‘That’s me, lady.’
‘My name’s Marcia Reilly.’
I noticed she was wearing a wedding ring. ‘How can I help you, Mrs Reilly?’
‘Oh, Mr Marlowe,’ she sighed, ‘I’ve lost my little doggie.’
I drew on my cigarette and looked into her anxious face. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help you,’ I told her. ‘I’m a Private Investigator, not a dog-catcher.’
‘But you don’t understand,’ she whined, creasing her face as if she were on the verge of tears. ‘This one’s twenty-two carat gold, with diamond eyes. It’s an antique bracelet-charm worth a thousand dollars.’
So there we are, the first full week of Stories for 2015. We hope you found something that you enjoyed. Actually we hope you liked them all.
As you know we like to give all the stories a fair crack of the whip so the first Oscar for story of the week will only be handed out next weekend. Please keep reading, “liking” and commenting to make sure your favourite gets the nod.
It begins as these things often do with a man talking to an imaginary cat. This fabulous and formidable feline is not only figmentary, but also sarcastic, cynical and prone to unprovoked bouts of profanity.
“So I’m supposed to say bollocks and the like for no reason?”
“Yes, that’s the sort of thing I expect. Now shut up and let me return to my musings.”
It begins as these things often do…
“You’ve mused that already.”
“Yes, thank you for that. Now once again shut up.”
“Just saying…”
Continue reading “Crouching Feline, Hidden Lobster by Nik Eveleigh”
Put yourself in my position. You can’t stop thinking about something that happened here years ago, when you were just a child.
Three boys wake up one morning. Three beds vacated eagerly.
You remember the incident but never really knew the details. Not knowing means your thoughts are just looping around uselessly.
It was late July when the lead story on the Ten O’Clock News opened with a view of our historic Freewater Courthouse and reported that a local, Philip Norland, had been arrested and charged with the deliberate murder of his 17-month son. He had left the toddler strapped in his car seat to die a long painful death by overheating in a locked car in the middle of a parking lot.
Phillipa had always known that she would be a nurse. The admission tests for University were easy because she was confident, no panic or night-time angst for Phillipa. She was born to be a nurse.
The University was attached to a teaching hospital with a world-renowned reputation. It would look great on her CV as she climbed the career ladder. She was a little regretful that they weren’t required to wear caps, crisp white aprons with scissor chain attached and black tights, but she made a supreme effort with the trouser uniform and always appeared smart, clean, fragrant and fresh.
At last, at the end of the Preceptorship, which of course she had zipped through in the shortest time possible, Phillipa felt that she was at last truly “Nursing” and was joyfully taking her turn at being “Nurse in Charge”.
“Everything happens for a reason, Josie, is the lamest philosophy – if you can actually call it a philosophy – I ever heard.”
“I’m sorry, I– ”
“–Why do you say such things?”
“I don’t know, Steve. I thought that–”
“–You don’t think Josie. You just repeat stuff other people say. Usually stupid people.”
“That’s a bit strong, Steve, isn’t it?”
Continue reading “Everything Happens For A Reason by Adam West”
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