October 27th, 1814, and the wind blowing over the clouded northern moors had winter on its breath and darkness in its heart. Rustling over the heather, hissing through the bracken before moaning down the slopes of the natural bowl which couched the still waters of the small lake. The smooth surface of water heaved and tossed at the arrival of the devil’s wind, as the villagers called it. They knew it was the early herald...

“I really despise this couch. Everything about it. You need to get a new one, or I’ll stop coming to these little chats.” “Focus, Daniella,” the therapist’s voice is low and colorless, like a forced kind of calming. “You were going to tell me about that night in the village, please, let’s just stick to talking about what happened that night.” Daniella fidgets, her lithe frame squirming as if her tattoo-covered skin is cra...

“Hi, Mum!” “Jeannie! How lovely to hear from you. Where are you?” “I am on the motorway. I'm finally coming down to see you at last! I hope it's alright at such short notice.” Jeannie Powell had not seen her mother for nearly two years, not since before the Coronavirus pandemic had hit. The last eighteen months had been difficult. Her mum, Harriet, was just over eighty years old, and, whilst of sound mind, she suffered fr...

The office was empty when Jack came back from the archives. He could not hear any sounds or see anyone around. Jack frowned, then went into his private office and dropped the pile of files he had pulled on his desk. The clock on Jack’s desk phone showed eight-thirty. He found it odd that no one seemed to be in yet. Then again, most of his co-workers arrived between eight-thirty and nine so maybe that would change soon. Ja...

I have a strange tale for you, a very strange tale indeed. I almost don’t know where to start. I suppose the beginning may be a good idea. Firstly, I’m a writer. I write crime novels, perhaps you’ve read some of them. My name is Rambles, Verity Rambles. Oh dear, I’ve only just started and already I’m sounding like James Bond. Sadly I’m not; I’m just a writer. I’m a big fan of the nineteen-twenties. Most, if not all of my...

Dear Reader, Nobody believed our story. But the events I relate to you below really happened. It may seem fantastic, but they do say that truth is always stranger than fiction. You can make up your own mind — I only want to set the record straight before — well, you’ll see… Our journey started one inauspicious evening almost six years ago; the seven of us unaware, as we embarked on our incredible adventure, that nothing w...

The events that would end in the major’s death began to unfold long before Christmas Eve. This I know only retrospectively: until the moment the major was shot, none of us could have predicted it. One thing you learn during wartime – more than at any other period, perhaps – is that while you may sense an imminent threat, or shiver with foreboding, it is only afterwards the connections that contributed to an event become c...

Hi, folks.My name is Bruiser. I'm a little dachshund. I weigh in at five pounds soaking wet. I'm two years old. I'm adorable and playful.But enough about me. This story is about my human Mommy and Daddy.I was just sitting there eavesdropping under the coffee table as my humans had a conversation about my human Mommy and her doctor's appointment yesterday. Her doctor wanted her to go see an oncologist. I wondered what that...

July’s midsummer heat stuck. It stuck to the blades of grass. It stuck to Sumire’s beige romper. It stuck to everything and anything like a sweltering bog. Sweat drenched her underarms as she set up her easel and foldable chair. Even at her elevated vantage point, the muggy draft painted her body with its salty sheen.Wiping her brow, she gazed over the stacked rows of terraced rice paddies below, bristling with the vibran...

Tina felt the bedsheet peel away from her skin as she sat up. She was covered in a sheen of sweat from head to toe. Her hair was damp and matted. Even at midnight with all the windows open and no clothing but panties, Tina could not seem to beat the heat. It was making sleep more and more difficult all the time. For days, the city had been caught in a heatwave. The temperature had cracked thirty degrees Celsius on each of...

His simple question rocked her; hurt bubbling to the surface and etching itself on her face. Paul was alarmed he had spoilt their growing rapport. “I’m sorry, Sara. I didn’t mean to pry. Let’s talk about something else.” “No. It’s not your fault,” Sara replied, her smile watery, “It’s been a few months since my break-up, but I guess I am still a bit raw.” “I know what you mean by rawness. I’ve been separated longer, but s...

The impact was sudden and fierce. But the fear didn’t set in until I saw the vehicle that rear-ended me rolling toward me. “I’m not ready to die,” I prayed out loud. Then I closed my eyes and let faith wash over me. When I opened my eyes again, the silver SUV was inches from my door. Miraculously, it was standing on its side instead of on top of me. I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding and let fat tears roll...

“Goodnight, Miss. Go safely, now.”   I closed the door behind me, leaving the warm fireplace and friendly chatter behind, and stepped out into the cool night air. It had been a wonderful evening. I had only moved into the village the week before, exactly six months after my divorce had been finalised. This had been my first visit to the Shipwreck Hotel, and the locals couldn't have been nicer. They treated me as though I...

They say that war is hell, it is. It’s a hell I unwittingly chose. I was fifteen at the time. I lived in a little known northern town in England. Not much happened in my town. The men went to work down the mines, the women stayed at home. It was all quite simple really; I could tell you all about it on a single page. Then the war came and everything changed. I watched as the men went off to war, my father included. They t...

“One day, you’re going to thank God you’ve got that speed, lad.” Those were the words of old Jack Linley to eighteen-year-old Danny Friar after the young man had run a solo one hundred metres trial on grass. While Danny, in his running gear, and spiked trainers, looked on anxiously, from a distance. the old man showed the time on his stopwatch to his two back-up trainers Vic Tanner, and Sid Dawson. Danny saw some approval...