A Brief Moment With A Vampyre. By C A Middleton © 2017 Phen tasted vague, frayed strips of broken memory regarding their earlier meeting. She carried the gift. Not all of her kind did. Flitting around and within the memories, like emotional weave, sang his lust for her. She also tasted a little infatuation: the … Continue reading
Kangaroo’s Didgeridoos? By C A Middleton © 2017 I’m all for an individual’s rights. Even rights of other creatures. And since science introduced the ability to communicate with what used to be called “wildlife” and now are referred to by the PC brigade as “opposably-challenged-sentiments”, or “OCS”, the demise of certain individual species has thankfully … Continue reading
Five Seconds To Go. By C A Middleton © 2017 ‘Ladies and Gentlemen! See before you, Gord Specker!’ The grinning gameshow host began. His eyes wide and unsteady, like a televangelist on sixteen Red Bull and an ounce of cheap whizz. ‘His life will end after five long seconds! Unless, of course, it doesn’t!’ He … Continue reading
Grindstone, competition holders for my fourth placed story, The Snake Charmer sent me feedback. Again: not too shabby!
Evie’s Sanctuary. By C A Middleton © 2017 The clatter and thud of metal on tarmac filled Evie’s ears. She didn’t need to look around to feel the adrenaline coursing through the veins of her neighbour friends. Self-survival, however, superseded any thought of tribal unity. They each scattered around the street to avoid detection. Evie’s … Continue reading
It’s not first place, but coming fourth in Grindstone’s short story competition for The Snake-charmer ain’t too shabby. Feeling quite chuffed this fine morn!
Tag Lines by C A Middleton © 2017 Glued to the bed by last night’s cocktail, Farrin Smorvinger, allowed his index finger to do the walking and talking for him. With a tip-tapping, reminiscent of the irregular beat of filthy water dripping from a blocked gutter, Farrin sent his thoughts around the world. His friends … Continue reading
She’s Only Happy…by C A Middleton © 2017 Josephine Picklesworth liked it when it rained. And not just the tiny droplets of mist type rain. She liked the bullets of water which bounced on the tin-roof of her mind like angry midgets, pissed they signed up for the Riverdance class. It cleared the streets and … Continue reading
The Jar-man by C A Middleton © 2014 It had been a long time since I’d crossed the threshold of such a garish joint. My coulrophobia and allergies to children gripped my legs. These establishments, in my experience, had their fair share of both. I could feel the cold carving-knife of fear sawing through … Continue reading