Tuesday Tales 032: Police escort

The thirty-second prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales (my twenty-sixth story for them) was a photograph of the trunk and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 619-worder, at Jean’s request, a follow-up to last week’s story Ocean drive.

Police escort

Watching the policeman in her rear view mirror, Rosie clicked the button to release the central locking and got out the car.

“Surprised you got here at all,” he said softly, kicking her flat tyre.

Rosie had watched enough TV to know his American accent to be Californian. “Me too,” she said, not meaning the car.

“But we’ll have away in no time.”

“No hurry,” she said and hoped he’d take all day. With the choice of views being him or the sea she could think of nowhere else she’d rather be.

“Do you have a spare?”

“No,” she said, knowing that her model of car didn’t come with one. “I thought they had to, by law, but apparently…”

“No problem,” he said. “You’re travelling a bit back-heavy? Got a body in there?” He laughed, exposing brilliant white teeth.

 Rosie had never been good at spontaneous laughter and didn’t think now was the time to try so just smiled and shook her head. “Moving house.”

“Oh, all your worldly possessions.”

“Yes,” she said quietly, picturing the heavy old chest that took up most of the boot.

The man stopped smiling. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK, really it is. New life, new start.”

“New man.”

Rosie didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “just here to fix your wheel. I’m new… I’ll shut up now and…”

“It’s OK, really it… I’ve said that already.”

“Don’t be nervous. It’s the uniform, I know, even makes me nervous.”

She laughed then, a natural laugh, and enjoyed it.

“That’s better,” the man said and held out his hand. “Bryan… Josh Bryan.”

As Rosie looked at him, she imagined him not in his uniform but in a dinner suit, sipping a cocktail that had been shaken not stirred, with a gun tucked discreetly under his jacket.

“I have some stuff in my trunk that’ll fix your car… what is it you Brits say? In a jiffy?

Rosie laughed again. “We’ve not said that since Jeeves and Wooster.”

“PG Wodehouse! You read?”

“I do… try to, when I have time.”

“I love the old ones. Really funny. Not as far back as Jane Austen, the romance, but…”

“You don’t like romance?” Rosie surprised them both with that question. “I mean, the classics.”

“20th Century is as old as I get. Still living there so my wife says.”

Rosie’s shoulders slumped.

“Ex wife, I should say. She’s still in the States. Couldn’t see why I would want to live here, but just look… the sea, the beach, the sun…”

“But don’t you have all that in California?”

“How did you know? Oh, the accent. Giveaway isn’t it. We do but it’s a different kind of sun. It’s… anyway, you’ll be wanting to go and we do need to fix your car.”

“We do.”

She watched him go the back of his patrol car, return with a yellow and black can, connect the tube to the air valve then reinflate the tyre. “Is that it?” she asked when he screwed the caps back on both the tyre and can.

“Not permanent. Should get you to the gas station.”

“Oh.”

“Of course, you won’t know one, will you? I’m finishing in a minute anyway, you can follow me.”

“Really?”

“Sure. There’s one just down from the PD… I mean police station, just down the road from the garage not gas station. I said I was new.”

Rosie smiled. “Thank you for everything. You’re very kind.”

Josh nodded and they returned to their cars.

Rosie followed him at just below the speed limit, without the sirens she’d hoped for but knew wouldn’t be warranted. It’s not every day you get a police escort and Rosie hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 031: Ocean Drive

The thirty-first prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales (my twenty-fifth story for them) was ‘ocean’ and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 319-worder.

Ocean Drive

As Rosie drove over the hill and caught her first sight of the sea, The Lighthouse Family’s ‘Ocean Drive’ was playing on the radio. ‘It’s a sign,” she said to Bertie, her tabby, now meowing from his carrier on the passenger seat of her Suzuki Swift.

Escaping Trevor had taken seven years and nothing was going to spoil this moment. Looking in her rear view mirror at a clear road, she pulled into a layby and onto uneven gravel.

She sat for a few minutes, just thinking, staring at the cloudless sky and blue sea, a postcard in the making. Fishing around in her handbag, she found her camera. She’d come up here, she decided, whenever she could, at… she looked at the dashboard clock… midday, and take a photograph regardless of the weather. They’d remind her that however gloomy the photographs or things got, this had been the perfect start to the rest of her life.

Looking through the lens she was about to take the shot when there was a tap at the window. She flinched and dropped the camera into the footwell. She knew she had to turn round, had to look through the window, had to see the face.

“Be strong,” she whispered then flinched again as a second tap came.

Checking the central locking, which she knew to be secure, she slowly turned to her right and looked at the face. Heart thumping, Rosie recognised the uniform. “Oh no!” she said. Bertie whined in unison.

The man pointed down at the ground and said something inaudible.

Rosie pressed the button for the window, moved it down a couple of inches, but said nothing.

“Madam,” the man said, “you have a flat tyre. Want me to change it for you?”

Rosie looked at the stranger’s dark skin, pale green eyes and broad white smile, and knew she was going to like living by the sea.

***

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 030: Root of all evil

The thirtieth prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales (my twenty-fourth story for them) was ‘money’ and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 387-worder which brings back Thelma and Eddie from Eddie’s fault and is written in second-person point of view.

Root of all evil

Thelma was your root of all evil, not money, although being poor most of the time didn’t help.

She’d wanted a new car and blamed you for not being able to afford one.

You’d wanted a dog but she’d only allowed you a cat, which you adore, but which she now hates even more, given that it was Tommy that made her swerve and hit her mother – you’re the easier one to blame.

It doesn’t take much for her to remind you that you had a good job – as if you’d ever forget – Manager then Director then lost the lot. She blamed you for not knowing what your Finance equivalent was doing when you were just selling the things.

You soon learned that no-one wants a 50-something salesman, however good you used to be. Thelma never appreciated that either.

You’d hidden it, like many do, same routine, only off to the library instead of PFT Engineering. When they came to collect your car just as you were going off to ‘work’ you could hide it no longer. After the initial eruption of Mount Thelma, she lay dormant, simmering like a slow cooker. Then she checked the savings account only to find less noughts than she’d expected. Lava flowed that day.

So you kept out of her way, doing up the garden, digging a hole for a lovely big pond.

Your trips to the library hadn’t been wasted though, the hours you’d spent researching methods.

She’d threatened you once too often and you’d finally flipped, although part of you had meant it. It had been quick, silent and she’d slumped to the floor, your petite wife losing her power in an instant.

With the neighbours of the only house to overlook your garden away in the Algarve you knew you could take your time burying her body, in the whole dug deeper than any pond, the lining material set in place just to be sure.

And now you have the house to yourself. When your neighbours return you’ll have filled the pond, be admiring your new fish when they pop in to thank Thelma for watering their plants. You’ll turn on the waterworks, tell them she’s left you and say you looked after the plants, then offer to look after their dog the next time they go away.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 029: Sentimental keepsake

The twenty-ninth prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales (my twenty-third story for them) was ‘red’ and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 536-worder.

Sentimental keepsake

It was the little girl in the red jacket that Eileen remembered the most from Schindler’s List.

She’d imagined it was her mother, she’d have been about the right age. She didn’t speak German, never had an interest in going there, and certainly wouldn’t watch any war movies, favouring comedies and the lightest of family dramas.

“Life is hard enough than to be reminded of it,” she’d say and Eileen knew she’d had her ups and downs but couldn’t imagine anything would have been as bad as that but understood living that era had been close enough, so didn’t press the matter.

It was too late to ask her now. Eileen wished she could turn the clock back a few months, to when they had their long conversations every other month when Eileen visited from her Scottish home. She should have persevered with the idea of Hilda writing her autobiography, recall those missing years hushed into the corners of her mind. Like an old house, the dust was swept aside, different memories uncovered during each visit. It was only in the last few months of her mother’s life that Eileen started to write things down, the last few weeks recorded on her dictaphone. She would recount previous conversations, to check her facts, only to be met by blank stares as if the events had happened to someone else. Even mention of Frank, who Eileen had been too young to remember, would merit a tilt of the head and the offer of another cup of tea.

Then a few weeks later Eileen had received the call she’d been dreading, travelled the journey long enough to dictate earlier conversations and the jobs ahead.

There followed the paperwork, the funeral, distant relatives giving their condolences to a woman they barely knew. Eileen had put her mother’s house on the market and set to the task of dividing her possessions between charity shop, skip and sentimental keepsakes.

In one of the drawers in the bedroom’s dresser, Eileen found an envelope containing a small silver key, with it a note of the bank and box number. Having lived frugal lives it was the last thing Eileen had expected so drove straight there and asked to see the box. She’d taken her mother’s death certificate and probate documentation and after a phone call and hushed conversation, the bank manager had introduced Eileen to his colleague who would show her the vault.

The man shut the door behind him, leaving Eileen alone surrounded by what felt like her school’s changing room, only the lockers would have held much poorer contents.

Eileen stared at the metal box and turned over the key in her hand. Like the room, it felt alien. Her box was one of the biggest and yet, she guessed, one of the lightest; not light enough to be empty but not containing weighty jewels, bonds or cash that she suspected the others housed.

The key glided into its hole and turned easily. Lifting the lid slowly, it made no noise but as Eileen let it fall backwards she leapt back as it clanked onto the hard counter top and exposed the contents within. Just one item: a child’s red woollen jacket.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 028: A lot to learn

The twenty-eighth prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales (my twenty-second story for them) was ‘city’ and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 933-worder.

A lot to learn

There was something about being a city vet that always appealed to Mark, something about the delight on the children’s faces when they saw a live animal, bigger than the stick insects, gerbils or cats they lived with.

Nothing, however, had prepared him for Brady ‘What’s that?’ Smith.

***

“No-one will take you seriously if you wear an Eyeore tie,” Emily, Mark’s girlfriend, had said that morning.

“I don’t want them to take me seriously, they’re children.”

“What about their teachers? Aren’t you supposed to be setting a good example?”

“AA Milne, Emily. There’s nothing more wholesome than Winnie the Pooh.”

“Eyeore.”

“Exactly.”

With that she’d kissed him goodbye and gone off to her first day with Clampett, Taylor and Browne.

Mark rinsed his cereal bowl, grabbed his black bag, dropped the flat’s Yale latch, then locked above and below it, something they’d never had to do at Broughton Heath.

As newlyweds they had little to steal but if the place didn’t look secure it was an open invitation – or so said Nick and Rachel who’d moved to London a couple of years before, and whose neighbours had both been burgled.

So after checks bordering on OCD, Mark took the no.27 bus making a mental note of the route so he could walk it home.

Entering the surgery immediately felt like home and Mark knew he’d made the right decision.

“Morning, Mark,” his new boss, Tom Sanderson, said before sipping a cup of steaming black coffee. “Want one?”

“Please.”

“If you’re quick, Josie will get it for you… kitchen on the left, from then on you make your own. We all do.”

“Sure. Thanks, Tom.”

“Good to have you on board. We’ve got Roehill Juniors today.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Tell me that again later and I’ll buy you a pint.”

“Deal,” Mark said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

***

Mug in hand, Mark was given a guided tour of the complex then shown to his office and given his itinerary for the day, with 10am ’til noon blocked out for the school visit. This left four early slots for patients; Muffin, a sock-swallowing Beagle; Roger, a sneezing rabbit (who it turns out was allergic to carrots); Daisy the Jack Russell for her first inoculations; and Henry the fat hamster who turned out to Henrietta and fat for a very specific reason.

Mark was writing up Henrietta’s notes when he heard loud voices coming from the car park. Pulling up his blind, he saw a congregation of royal blue-uniformed children running in circles, waving their hands and a couple playing patty cake. There were two teachers with them, a tall blonde lady and a shorter black woman who stopped suddenly, making a couple of the children bump into her, then blew a whistle, the children immediately standing to attention. With a click of her fingers the children formed an orderly line and followed her and her colleague round the corner, towards the building’s front door. Knowing he had a minute or two at most, he finished his notes, screen-locked the computer, and headed out into reception to meet them.

The children were standing gazing up their teachers, the blonde woman talking to one of the receptionists, Sylvie, who was pointing in Mark’s direction.

“Thanks Sylvie,” Mark said, and with a swoop of his arms, said, “Do follow me, ladies and gentlemen,” and the teachers escorted the children, one adult at either end.

Mark walked past his office and the consulting rooms, and through a back door. Some of the children gasped and looked around at the array of animals; the pigs, cows and chickens being the nearest enclosures. Mark turned to the two teachers. “Good morning, I’m Mark Sullivan. I’ll be your guide for today. Any questions at all just let me know.”

“By raising your hand,” the blonde teacher said to the group, then turned to Mark. “Erin Talbot, Mrs, and this is Mrs Jackson.”

“Pleased to meet you Mrs Talbot, Mrs Jackson.”

Mrs Jackson smiled briefly then clicked her fingers at a young boy who had started to wander off. “Keep in the group, Brady.”

The boy duly returned but looked around him rather than at her.

Unsure as to what the children wanted to know, Mark showed them the first pen, of a variety of chickens, and explained the different species, ensuring he didn’t get too technical.

The pigs followed next and while some of the children stayed with Mark, the rest went on to the cows with their two teachers.

Brady stood closest to the pigs, in front of Mark, and started emulating their noises.

“Very good… Brady, is it?”

The boy nodded.

“You like pigs?” Mark asked.

The boy shrugged his shoulders.

“You don’t know?”

Brady shook his head.

“I like pigs,” Mark said.

The boy said nothing but looked up at Mark.

“Do you eat bacon?”

The boy nodded eagerly.

“Ham sandwiches.”

He nodded again.

“Then you like pigs,” Mark said, trying to be helpful.

The boy frowned.

“Bacon… ham… come from pigs and…” Mark stopped talking when the boy screwed up his face and started bawling. Mark went to crouch down to him, to console him, but Brady ran towards Mrs Talbot and buried his face in her skirt.

Mrs Jackson stormed over to Mark. “What have you done?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Jackson but he didn’t seem to know what a pig was.”

“And you told him?”

“I am a vet.”

“And he’s just a boy.”

As Mark looked at Brady, he realised he had a lot to learn about children before he and Emily started a family.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are fortnightly episodes, usually released on Sundays, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 027: Half-human

The twenty-seventh prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales (my twenty-first story for them) was a photograph of a limousine and a plane (with a 300-word limit) and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 292-worder.

Half-human

Winning a luxury weekend for two to Paris, all expenses paid, should have been the thrill of a lifetime for Nicky until she realised she’d have to choose someone to go with her. Boyfriend, girlfriend, or mother.

Mother could be discounted quite easily, she would have assumed she’d be last choice, and wouldn’t even have to know.

Nicky’s girlfriends would be too engrossed in their own love lives to notice that she was away.

So that left boyfriend, but which boyfriend should she take? Graham who she’d known since school and was now more boring than watching a slug climb uphill; Terry her boss who would say “yes” but cancel at the last minute because his wife picked that weekend to drag him round Ikea; or Pierre, the sickly-smooth eye candy who came from the city of love and would jump at the chance to show her round his old stomping ground, probably bumping into a few of his amours in the process.

Nicky’s heart told her Pierre – he’d have to ask for time off from the restaurant but she’d met his boss and thought that was feasible, he’d seemed fairly human.

But her head told her Graham – put some romance back into their relationship, see if there were still embers glowing or whether they were as soggy as his fishing gear.

“Graham,” she said when she arrived home from work.

“Yep,” he’d replied, half-listening, hovering over a tub of maggots.

“Busy next weekend?”

“Nope.”

“Great,” she said, smiling. “Going away on business, so you’ll look after the house, yes?”

“Er, OK,” he’d said just as the front door slammed.

On the way to Chez Bernard’s, Nicky figured that even if Pierre’s boss was only half-human she could do a lot worse.

***

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 024: They try to with the food

A couple of weeks ago, the 24th prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales was ‘pie’. I was on holiday so didn’t get it done in time but wanted to do it anyway.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 670-worder, inspired by Roald Dahl’s Fat Chance (and I’ve given my characters the actors’ names).

They try to with the food

“Cherry Pie, John?”

“Yes, Miriam.”

“No stones?”

“No, Miriam.”

“Thank you, John.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh yes… it’s still warm. Well done you.”

“Shall I put the kettle on?”

“That would be lovely.”

“Right you are.”

Miriam knew the pie would taste even better with the tea but didn’t want it to get cold so took a bite and savoured it until she heard the kettle boil.

“Are you not having any tea, John?”

“I have to go back to work.”

“This late?”

“We’re a doctor down so I’ve been seeing more patients, more paperwork. Don’t wait up.”

***

Had Miriam looked out the window or waved her husband goodbye from the front door, she would have seen him turn left instead of right as he should have done to go to the surgery. Of course John knew she’d still be sitting on the sofa as she did every Monday and Thursday evening when he brought her cherry pie.

***

“Oh, John!”

“Oh, Sheila!”

“That was wonderful.”

“It was.”

“When are you going to leave Miriam?”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

“Soon, my darling.

“You know I have a business trip next week.”

“I do and I shall miss you dreadfully.”

“You will?”

“Of course. You know I only want to be with you.”

“Then leave her.”

“I shall.”

“While I’m away. If you’ve not left her when I come back then we’re over.”

“Sheila!”

“I mean it.”

“OK.”

“OK?”

“Yes, my darling.”

“You will?”

“I will.”

“While I’m away.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, John!”

“Oh, Sheila!”

***

“Hello, McNeill.”

“Hello, Doctor Castle.”

“Do you have…?”

“I do, sir. You did want this strength, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“They’re quite lethal in the wrong hands.”

“Just as well they’re in mine.”

“Fair point. There we are then.”

“Thank you, McNeill.”

“Good day, sir.”

***

“I’m home!”

“Goodie. Do you have it?”

“I have, Miriam, still warm.”

“Thank you, dear.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Work again, tonight?”

“Not tonight, no. I thought I might go to the club though.”

“You do work so hard.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. There’s a really good program about dung beetles just about to start.”

“That’s nice dear. I’ll make you a cup of tea first though, yes?”

“Not tonight, John, not thirsty.”

“Alright then.”

“…Not hungry either,” she said when she heard the front door slam.

***

The program it turns out was less interesting than Miriam had hoped and she’d swiftly fallen asleep only to be disturbed by a visitor who hadn’t stayed long.

***

“It’s last orders, Doctor Castle, would you like another?”

“Better not, Derek.”

“Will we be seeing you tomorrow for the bridge match?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll know better when I get home.”

“Not a problem, Doctor Castle. Have a good night, sir.”

“Thank you, Derek.”

***

John Castle quietly let himself into his house and crept into the lounge. He smiled when he saw his wife sprawled across the sofa, eyes firmly shut. He looked at the coffee table and saw no pie.

He was leaning over her when her eyes sprang open and she screamed. He backed away just as violently.

“John! What were you doing?”

“Oh God! Er… sorry Miriam. I thought I saw…”

“What?”

“I don’t know, something moving, I’m not sure.”

“Where?”

“I think it’s gone.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Was your pie, nice?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh? You’ve not eaten it yet?”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Never mind. You could have it now. I’ll put the kettle on.”

“No need.”

“For lunch tomorrow then.”

“If you buy me another.”

“Sorry?”

“I wasn’t hungry so I gave it away.”

“Gave it.. away? There was someone here?”

“Only for a few minutes. Was in a hurry. Had to catch a plane.”

“Really?”

“A business trip, she said.”

John swallowed hard. “She?”

“Oh, yes. Sheila, one of your receptionists. Said she wanted an update on something…”

“And you gave her the pie?”

“I didn’t think you’d mind. I wasn’t hungry and you know what aeroplane food is like. If they don’t kill you with the turbulence, they try to with the food.”

***

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 026: Hold On

The twenty-sixth prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales (my twentieth story for them) was ‘trees’ and below is the result. You read the other writers’ stories for this prompt here.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 725-worder. If you’ve been reading my Story a Day May stories you’ll recognise this from 12th May but the prompt was too perfect not to re-post this.

Hold On

No-one’s told him how he should be feeling but it’s nice… a kind of tingling.

He stares at his new neighbour. He wants to curl his mouth, if he had one, like he’s seen those pink stick things do. He thinks they’re called ‘peeple’. He’s heard one of them say “sum peeple!” but he can’t be sure. He has to call them something and they’re small, like beetles, so they’re the beetle peeple.

He doesn’t understand their language, still feels like he doesn’t belong, even after all these years.

He did once, he thought, hear familiar words, his mother tongue, but it came from a little black box. He was listening hard until one of the peeple prodded the box and it crackled, like it was in pain, then the voice was replaced by music… loud, unpleasant, not like the birds. He knows music from the birds but that doesn’t help because he can’t speak their language either.

The new neighbour’s really quiet. He’s sure he should be picking up something… maybe she’s still too young. He can’t remember how old he was when he first started sensing things… not feeling, he doesn’t feel as such, but he’s old, wise and knows how life goes – in his part of it anyway.

He’s seen thousands of peeple coming and going, using him as shade, shelter, protection… a climbing frame, until one got very high then screamed as it… ‘he’ went down very quickly. A moving white box with coloured lights came and put him, and a screaming bigger ‘she’, inside and went away making lots of noise.

He prefers it when it’s quiet, and dark, it’s cooler when it’s dark. Sometimes it gets too hot. He thinks where he’s from, originally, is colder, except he can’t really remember. He remembers a journey, going over some water but most of it was land, green like here. He thinks he was young, like his neighbour, when he arrived. It was a long time ago. When she’s old enough he’ll ask her if she remembers. There won’t be so far back for her to think.

After the white box went, some more peeple came and put a barrier around him, and big yellow squares with black squiggles he couldn’t understand but he knew what it meant; that no-one could touch him anymore, couldn’t climb, couldn’t hug.

He liked it when peeple touched him, even when they cut squiggles into him. It didn’t hurt, just tickled a little, felt nice, like they were making him their own, like he belonged.

But now he has a different kind of company, his own kind and he can’t wait for her to grow, to have someone to ‘feel’ with.

There’s that tingling again. It’s like… no, it can’t be. He tells himself not to be so silly. He knows ‘silly’ from the little peeple. They’d do funny things with their faces then tell each other not to be silly, but silly looks like a lot of fun.

It is! It… no, it can’t be… It is! A new bud!

He’d felt sick for ages, not like the little ‘he’ who’d fallen from him because ‘he’ hadn’t moved… but tired, old. It’s not like that now. It feels like when little ‘he’ started climbing, to explore, reach out… grow.

They’re taking the barrier away! He must be better. He can have peeple touch him again. He feels like being very silly today!

There’s a big ‘he’ with a large shiny stick. What’s he doing? He’s pulling a bit of… something out of it and it’s making a roaring noise, like he’d seen one of the little ‘he’s do which made a little ‘she’ scream. All the other peeple laughed but he didn’t find it funny. The little ‘she’ had looked scared. He remembered scared from when the sky grew dark, and the rain came, and there were loud noises way above them and the peeple screamed and ran to him, and he made them feel safe.

Hey! He’s cutting squiggles into him, making him his own. It’s not unpleasant but it’s not stopping, he must really like him.

He feels all wobbly, wants to put his branches out to balance himself. He felt like this when he got sick, but he doesn’t feel sick now, he feels… free. He feels… aliv…

“Timber!”

“Hold on!”

***

A couple of weeks ago the prompt was ‘pie’ and I missed it as I was on holiday. I’ve written the story and it follows later today.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 025: The photo that no-one else can get

The twenty-fifth prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales (my nineteenth story for them) was ‘chase’ and below is the result. I owe TT the prompt for pie and was going to post it last Sunday except I was on holiday and had written it but left it at home. It’ll post it sometime soon.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it.

Below is my 356-worder in second person. In case you think you’ve read this before, you may well have. I posted it mid-April not realising that the prompt had been postponed so sorry if this is a repeat but sometimes it’s better the second read as you’re not concentrating on the story…

The photo that no-one else can get

You’ve been chasing her for days, to get the photo that no-one else can get. She knows you’re there. There’s always someone there.

It’s a lifestyle she’s had to become accustomed to, only you don’t think she ever will. It’s not one you’d want, except she’s become your job, your life.

When she emerges out of the building, you reach over to your camera, on its dashboard tripod, and set it to continuous.

You follow her car through narrow streets, wide streets – her executive to your jalopy, the only thing you could get at short notice. You’re used to this place, she’s been here a lot.

Most of the shots are of the back of her head but you know she could look round. She has before.

As her car gathers speed so does yours. It complains but it’s not yours so you’re not bothered.

As she heads into the tunnel, she edges forward and you floor the accelerator, a little too close for comfort but you decide to go alongside, get level, no other cars in sight, so you swivel round your camera in anticipation, a momentary lapse in concentration.

You scream as your car clips hers, a white graze on a black beast, but you keep driving, then slow… watching in the rear view mirror as the Mercedes’ offside hits the pillar, then spins, making contact with the front, ricocheting into the nearside, only the boot intact.

Then you see the other cars, lights on, stop at the scene and you speed away, heart pounding, sweat rising in your armpits and head back to your room, taking the smallest streets you know of, hearing but not seeing the sirens that wake up a sleeping city.

***

As you look at the screen, you study the dozens of photographs that you know no-one else but you will see. You’ll delete them, never printing them, burn the memory stick to be sure, buy a new computer, but not yet. You put them in a folder and know that whatever you do with them you’ll never forget – the world will never forget – the day you killed a princess.

Apart from being inspired by true events, some months ago I read Alexis Sayle’s ‘Barcelona Plates’ and that story’s always stayed with me.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers. So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit.

Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum and you can follow me on Twitter, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 023: A Bad Feeling

Armed with a 300-word maximum and the picture prompt (right), the twenty-third prompt by online writing group Tuesday Tales, I headed out for a dog walk and below (after a little tweaking) is the result, my seventeenth story for TT.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 300-worder (excl. title).

A Bad Feeling

He had a bad feeling about this one. ‘Body under bridge’ never brought about a good one but tonight…

Tonight followed afternoon, the afternoon’s argument with his daughter, Charlotte, and a back-and-forth over the length of her skirt. Every parent / daughter does it and neither side wins; resentment, looks of hurt, mistrust, regardless of which side gets their way.

He’d phoned her mobile later, left a message, said he was sorry, that he had to go into work, for her to be careful. He knew she’d shake her head, feel stifled, like a child.

Elizabeth often told him he was too soft, that Charlotte took advantage, that she was a Daddy’s girl, and she was usually right. He’d known Elizabeth half his life and it had taken half of that to have their daughter, their only child, so it was his job, like it was his job to go and see dead bodies under bridges. No other detail than that; no age, no gender, but he didn’t want to know. Know too much and you start thinking, give them a family, a life.

If he was lucky tonight it would still be clothed, intact, simple. A mugging gone wrong, gunshot wound, knife through the heart. He was nearing retirement and that didn’t suit complicated.

Slipping down the wet steps he growled and went to put his hands out but steadied. He hated that; lack of balance, of control.

Those already there, his colleagues, looked particularly grim. “Crap. It’s a bad one,” he said to himself.

No-one spoke as he walked to the bridge, to the body.

He felt the tears come and he didn’t care who saw them, then felt his phone vibrate, looked at the name on the screen. He pressed the green button hesitantly. “Charlotte. Your mother.”

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers and you can read the other stories from this picture prompt here.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum and you can follow me on Twitter, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 21: Eddie’s Fault

The twenty-first prompt from online writing group Tuesday Tales (my fifteenth story for them) was ‘daffodils’ and below is the result. You can read the other writers’ stories for that prompt (please do) here.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 454-worder, and strangely this week isn’t second-person viewpoint.

Eddie’s Fault

“Daffodils, Eddie! Mum’s favourites are daffodils. What are these?”

“Gerberas, my love,” Eddie replied, deflated. “It’s all the shop had left.”

“I suppose it would make a change,” she conceded.

Eddie looked at the vases of daffodils filling the hospital bedside table and nodded. “How is she?”

My love, Thelma, burst into tears.

“She’ll be fine, my love,” Eddie said reaching out for his wife’s hand, which remained in her lap.

“She won’t! And stop calling me ‘my love’!”

“I’m sorry, my… People come out of comas all the time. I could bring the CD player and her favourite Andre Rieu… might cheer them up too.” Eddie looked at the only other bed in the room; at the other crying relatives, the other silent patient.

“It’s your fault she’s here!” Thelma snapped, bringing his attention back to her.

“My fault?”

“If you hadn’t… oh, there’s the doctor.” Thelma leapt to her feet. “Dr Chapada…”

“Chapadandraha, Mrs Boyle.”

“Yes, quite.” Thelma looked at Eddie, who was still seated, and glared at him.

He duly stood and waited for Thelma to continue, not an expert on hospitals but an expert on Thelma.

“Any news, Doctor?”

“The tests have come back negative…”

Thelma yelped and grabbed Eddie’s hand who yelped as she crushed it.

“I’m sorry…” the doctor started.

Thelma whimpered.

“No, I mean…”

“Will she be OK?” Eddie chipped in.

“Should be fine, Mr Boyle.”

“Should be?” Thelma eased up on her grip of Eddie’s hand.

“She’s under an induced coma, Mrs Boyle, but her brain activity is normal so in usual circumstances, patients even with her level of crush injuries do go on to make a recovery.”

“Full recovery?” Thelma pressed.

“We’ll know more when she wakes.”

“Thank you,” Thelma said, a little more cheerful.

The doctor nodded and went to the other bed, where an elderly man had had complications after heart surgery.

Thelma returned to her chair and sank slowly, staring at her mother as she lay unconscious, every now and then eyelids twitching.

Eddie watched his wife sit down then joined her. He replayed the events of the previous day in his head; of Thelma driving him back from the supermarket, of her mother coming out of the house to greet them, of the cat dashing across the driveway from under a bush, of Thelma’s confusion between foot pedals and the screaming.

“Thelma,” Eddie started gently. “Thelma,” he repeated, knowing she’d heard but not responded. “What did you mean when you said it was my fault?”

Thelma turned to him, the glare returned. “He’s your cat!”

There was one thing Eddie knew; he was only ever right when Thelma was wrong and he wasn’t going to hold his breath on that one.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be. You can read some of mine (free and otherwise) at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore and Kobo, and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum and you can follow me on Twitter, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me. Finally, I also now have a new blog creation service especially for writers: http://icanbuildyourwritingblog.wordpress.com.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them) on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 19 part 2: ‘Where’s the fun in that?’

It turns out I hadn’t been paying attention in class (and I used to be so good)… or rather, with the Tuesday Tales prompt for this week. I thought it was ‘chase’ (the story for which, The photo that no-one else can get, I posted on this blog yesterday) but that had been postponed in place of a picture… the handsome one below. So with less than 24 hours to spare I got cracking… actually I didn’t straight away, I started this afternoon… 3pm, two hours ago, but shorts are my forte (or so I’ve been told) so 300 words in two hours. No problem.

Online writing group Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 300-worder (finished with 10 minutes to spare ).

Where’s the fun in that?

This wasn’t Nadine’s idea of fun.

Knowing she wanted to be an actress, her flatmate Tim had sold it to her as an opportunity to get in front of the camera, but neglected to tell her the camera wouldn’t be shooting at the time.

“Come on, it’ll be a laugh,” he’d said. “Get you away from those infernal study books. You’ll meet people. You know, real people who earn money for a living and you’ll earn a bit in the process.”

But this wasn’t what she classed as a ‘living’, strutting around semi-nude – the men of course, not her – and it was their silly too-big-for-their-heads cowboys hats that made her laugh, which didn’t impress them or the photographer… although Tim thought it was hilarious. Then there were the rips in their jeans her mother would have insisted on sewing up.

The models reminded her of the Chippendales except this was more tasteful… a campaign for a top jeans designer. She couldn’t remember which one, Tim had told her when they’d booked his dad’s farm, and had seemed suitably excited, but it had meant nothing to her, still didn’t. Actors and actresses, that was a different matter but fashion… modelling… had never appealed to her.

And the models could tell.

She knew they weren’t renowned for their brains – deciding that was probably why their hats were too big – or stimulating conversations, which was just as well as they were too busy preening for the camera.

“Now!” the photographer shouted, and although he was looking at the models, Nadine knew he meant her.

She sighed, picked up the bottle, shook it and headed towards the men. She wanted to be helping the photographer, adjusting lighting, whatever needed doing. Not this…

…squirting baby oil all over them

…where was the fun in that?

The links to the earlier prompts can be found on the Tuesday Tales page here on this blog. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales site.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called Short Story Saturdays where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 019: The photo that no-one else can get

The nineteenth prompt from online writing group ‘Tuesday Tales’ (my thirteenth story for them) was ‘chase’ and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it.

I did this but had been asleep in ‘class’ as it had previously been announced that ‘chase’ was postponed and a picture prompt had gone up – I’m a glutton for punishment (which is no hardship as I adore writing something new) so did this as well as it resulted in a 300-worder ‘Where’s the fun in that?‘, posted on this blog on Monday 16th April. Below is my 356-worder second-person viewpoint (as most of my Tuesday Tales have been) for the original prompt of ‘chase’…

The photo that no-one else can get

You’ve been chasing her for days, to get the photo that no-one else can get. She knows you’re there. There’s always someone there.

It’s a lifestyle she’s had to become accustomed to, only you don’t think she ever will. It’s not one you’d want, except she’s become your job, your life.

When she emerges out of the building, you reach over to your camera, on its dashboard tripod, and set it to continuous.

You follow her car through narrow streets, wide streets – her executive to your jalopy, the only thing you could get at short notice. You’re used to this place, she’s been here a lot.

Most of the shots are of the back of her head but you know she could look round. She has before.

As her car gathers speed so does yours. It complains but it’s not yours so you’re not bothered.

As she heads into the tunnel, she edges forward and you floor the accelerator, a little too close for comfort but you decide to go alongside, get level, no other cars in sight, so you swivel your camera round in anticipation, a momentary lapse in concentration.

You scream as your car clips hers, a white graze on the black beast, but you keep driving, then slow… watching in the rear view mirror as the Mercedes’ offside hits the pillar, then spins, making contact with the front, ricocheting into the nearside, only the boot intact.

Then you see the other cars, lights on, stop at the scene and you speed away, heart pounding, sweat rising in your armpits and head back to your room, taking the smallest streets you know of, hearing but not seeing the sirens that wake up a sleeping city.

As you look at the screen, you study the dozens of photographs that you know no-one else but you will see. You’ll delete them, never printing them, burn the memory stick to be sure, buy a new computer, but not yet. You put them in a folder and know that whatever you do with them you’ll never forget – the world will never forget – the day you killed a princess.

***

Apart from being inspired by true events, some months ago I read Alexis Sayle’s title story from his collection ‘Barcelona Plates’ and that story’s always stayed with me.

The links to the earlier prompts can be found on the Tuesday Tales page here on this blog. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales site.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called Short Story Saturdays where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 018: Cocoon

Online writing group ‘Tuesday Tales’ this week gave out the prompt ‘airport’ and below is the result, my twelfth for them. You can read everyone’s stories for this prompt here.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 200-worder second-person.

Cocoon

It’s the one place you dread. Psyche yourself up so much that you feel sick before you get on the plane. If you liked alcohol more you’d get drunk but then you know that would make things worse.

Looking around, you compare like-for-like; ‘suits’ on the red eye, but even the shades of grey differ. You’ve been often enough the past few weeks for some to become familiar but they look through you, used to seeing the same faces but not communicating, unless it’s mobile to ear.

You send a text to your brother, always waiting at the other end, say your flight’s on time and you’ll be there as usual.

The sign comes up and you switch off your phone, put it in your bag, no need for the formality of a reply.

The flight’s not too bad and you think you might actually start to enjoy it but you know you won’t have to do this much longer. That Dad won’t last much longer.

As you walk into arrivals, a stranger holds a placard containing your name and you feel your legs weaken. You switch on your phone and it beeps, clicking the ‘read’ button confirms the worst.

The links to the earlier prompts can be found on my new Tuesday Tales page here on this blog. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales site.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called Short Story Saturdays where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 017: Siesta

Armed with online writing group Tuesday Tales’ seventeenth prompt ‘chest’, my eleventh short story for them, I got writing and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link, then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 316-word second-person story.

Siesta

You can’t help staring at his chest. Only a mammoth has more hair than Eddie. It’s the only thing you dislike about his body so you close your eyes and think of proverbial England… the country of your birth… the country you miss, despite everything you have here.

Eddie mistakes your closed eyes for ecstasy and gives one last thrust, groaning as he does so, then flops back to his side of the bed and promptly falls asleep, the effort clearly too much. He puts his constant lethargy down to advancing years but you tell him that fifty is the new thirty so he’s thirty-two. You put it down to his sedentary lifestyle, easily done where you are, except you go out and find things to do. Solo but not solo, enjoying other people’s company but wishing it was Eddie’s.

You look at the expanse of hair – more of it, it seems, due to his expanding girth – and you watch it rise and fall. The mouth above it whimpers and you catch your name. Soft, romantic, like you know Eddie to be… under all that hair. He’s grown his head hair long, dark like his chest, looks like a rock star only he doesn’t play the guitar so well.

Leaning in, you smell the still-evident aftershave, the last of the Duty Free. You rub his chest, determined to make friends with the mammoth, remind yourself that Eddie can be an animal in bed when he’s not so tired, then your hand stops… replays, just to be sure, and it is sure. You’re sure. You’ve felt this before… with Frank. Images flood your brain: beeping machines, shaking heads, forms to sign.

You feel a sensation in your nose, you always do before you cry, but you sniff away the tears as Eddie opens his eyes.

You smile, kiss his chest, then go downstairs to make the dinner.

This story is one of twelve to be found here.

The links to the first seven prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on my new Tuesday Tales page here on this blog. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales site.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called Short Story Saturdays where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 016: Date Night

Armed with their sixteenth prompt ‘night’, my tenth short story for online writing group ’Tuesday Tales’ is below. Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us that link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 258-worder…

Date Night

Date night has become a weekly tradition you look forward to. Thursdays. When others go out with the lads… the girls… it’s just you and Evelyn. Your French Fancy. You think it’s corny but she still finds it funny – even after all these years.

She acts differently on a Thursday morning. More loving. Like a teenager, even. She becomes your Frisky French Fancy.

You’re a private couple and go somewhere different each time so no-one remembers you but always classy, expensive. You pay cash as if it’s going to impress but the only one who feels differently is you.

A young man with an ice bucket of individual red roses stands at the table and wishes you a Happy Valentine’s then asks if you’d like to buy a flower “for your lady”, which you gladly do, even though you’ve bought her an expensive bracelet.

You order steak, medium-well done, Evelyn has trout, and you talk about everything and nothing; work, the children – you still have plenty to say.

Sharing a caramel roulade takes you back to your first date and you mention it. She stops smiling and you see a tear forming.

“Je suis désolé,” you say, putting down your fork, and signalling for the bill.

You pay and leave the restaurant in silence, remaining so as you walk to the car park.

You kiss her cheek and she smiles briefly.

You open her door and she says a “merci”.

You watch her drive away, back to her family and you get in your car to return to yours.

***

PS. Evelyn / Evelyne means ‘little bird‘ or ‘hazelnut‘.

The links to the first seven prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on my new Tuesday Tales page here on this blog. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales site.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called Short Story Saturdays where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 015: Consolation prize

Armed with the prompt ‘sky’, my ninth short story for online writing group ’Tuesday Tales’, I headed off to the park, and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 301-worder, back to second-person viewpoint.

Consolation prize

As you lie on your back, looking up at the cloudless sky, you wish that life could always be this easy.

The answer isn’t 42, as Douglas Adams would have had you believe… unless you could work out what the question really was. The age you’d like to be? The age when things get easier? You hope so.

“I don’t love you anymore.” You play Terry’s statement over in your head. It’s something you’d heard before – not from him, but in movies with Terry sat beside you, vowing to never say those words, to be that hollow. He’d squeezed your hand as if to seal the pact.

But he has, and you’re the one feeling empty because he now has someone who makes him anything but.

He has Jack.

You thought you’d misheard, that he’d meant Jackie, or non-gender like Chris or Sam, but then he’d shown you a photo; of the two of them smiling. He should have picked one of your opponent alone, looking miserable, like you are now.

But Terry said it. Deed done. Packed his bags, wedding ring on his bedside table, gone to live in sin.

You wonder if there’s such a thing as double-sin. Living with someone who isn’t your wife, living with your own sex. And you suppose that’s what it’s all about. That sex with Jack… you don’t really want to think about it, but it must be better than with you. Different at least… a novelty. But then you start wondering whether it’s not novel at all, that you were the novelty, one that turned out to be a consolation prize.

Your mind drifts as clouds gather and the sun disappears, until you realise the shadow’s not a cloud. You look at it, recognising the smile, then take the hand you’re offered.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 013: The Milkman’s

Armed with the keyword of ‘life’, the twelfth prompt but my sixth short story for online writing group Tuesday Tales, I headed off to the park (as seems to be the best place for writing these).

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 134-worder – they’re getting shorter, it’ll be a 100-worder next. And yes, it’s a cheery second-person viewpoint for a change.

The Milkman’s

Staring at the picture you wonder why Jeff had never queried the resemblance. He’d joked about Simon being the milkman’s but you knew he was never serious. Simon always laughed alongside him but gave you a quizzical look which you shrugged off, joining in the laughter just a split second too late.

It was never the right time to say anything – come clean to one or other of them. To both. But now is the right time, Jeff’s funeral a distant enough memory.

You wonder how much to tell him. Simon. Your only child. A teenager, born when you were a teenager. Old enough to know the truth, but you still worry about him handling it.

So you sit him down, start at the beginning; the moment when your uncle opened your bedroom door.

***

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales picture prompt 001: ‘Badge of Honour’

Armed with the picture prompt below, my first for online writing group Tuesday Tales, and a 300-word limit, I got writing and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales usually provides a new one-word prompt each week, but this was an extra and fun.

It follows the same format whereby the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim.

She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link **** WHICH IS HERE **** then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 259-worder ‘Badge of Honour’ (no surprises that it’s a second-person viewpoint)…

Badge of Honour

You know it could be anything, but you’re pretty certain it’s a body. You want to say something to Neville, but you know he’ll laugh at you, as he does. Never with you. So you leave him topping up his suntan lotion, escape before he asks you to rub factor 30 into his gorilla-like back. Again.

You head back to the long, narrow orange and white boat, to the cobalt-blue sacking, the human-shaped canvas that made your heart race when you walked past it yesterday, solo, during Neville’s siesta.

As you pull at the sacking, you scream and jolt backwards into a tall islander.

“Hello ma’am,” he says in his strong Jamaican accent.

All you can do is laugh nervously. You’re sure he’s the boat owner… sure he’ll overpower you if you try to make a run for it, that’s if you could get past.

He looks at the face. The woman’s. You think she’s a woman, you can’t really be sure, and he laughs. An indistiguishable laugh, but it makes you uneasy. You’re too far from Neville, from anyone, to make screaming again worth it, so you decide you’ll reason with the man, but before you can say anything, he speaks.

“You thought…?” and he laughs again, this time his green eyes sparkling, then he pulls away the sacking, revealing her body. Limp. Lifeless. Hollow eyes. Then you see her name badge, ‘Anne’, and you realise what she is. Beside her is a first aid kit and the man’s uniform featuring his badge, ‘Montego Bay Rescue Service – Trainer’.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 011: ‘Small Steps’

Armed with the prompt of ‘dress’, my fifth short story for online writing group Tuesday Tales, below is the result (a second-person short story for a change).

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it.

So, without further ado, here is my 162-worder which features with 22 other writers on the Tuesday Tales blog post dated 28 February 2012:

‘Small Steps’

It doesn’t bother you that you have to teach him to dress himself. All over again.
It doesn’t bother you that he doesn’t remember your name.
It bothers you that you’re the reason he’s like this.
A constant reminder that you didn’t take any notice when he asked you to slow down.
Begged, even.

Totally out of character, you chased the other car.
The driver.
The woman who’d cut you up.
The woman you recognised from the picture.
 
You were only supposed to be giving Andy a lift to football.
They weren’t supposed to be playing.
Didn’t usually in the rain but he’d had a text at the last minute, too late to walk or take his bike.
So he missed the game, and you missed the bend.
A lamppost slamming into the passenger door as the car spun.
The woman stopped then, ran back, helped you both, all the time crying.
“Jack loves you, Emma. We’ve only ever been friends.”

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 010: ‘Trust Me’

Armed with the prompt ‘cheat’ for my fourth short story for online writing group Tuesday Tales, I took the dog to the park and below is the result. Just for a change, it’s second person point of view… sorry about that.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 393-worder.

‘Trust me’

You’ve cheated your way here and you know you have to be careful. You suspect one or two of your colleagues know and it’s only a matter of time before someone asks you to do something simple. Something a junior doctor would know. Something a man of your standing could do in his sleep – a man who would worry in his sleep if he were you, but you don’t.

You’ve done this dozens of times. Not be a doctor – a first time is always thrilling – but pretend to be something you’re not… someone. It’s now second nature. You don’t have to remember lies anymore because the boundaries have blurred. You were a high court judge, a barrister, lawyer, until legal got boring so you switched to medicine, Googled your way through the basics – terminology for your fake CV, enough of those to paper your flat, more fake passports than MI5… or is MI6, you’ll Google that too for when you tire of medicine. Probably not long, you’ve never really been comfortable with hospitals but this one’s warm and spacious unlike your tiny flat – a hovel that only a legal or medical student would inhabit, but your scams get you by – make up for the pittance you earn when you’re ‘inside’. It’s been a while and you’re almost missing it. The familiar faces.

These faces have become familiar, especially the student nurses who hang on your every word so you make sure they’re good ones. Make some up, knowing that the girls would be too early on in their studies to know them, make sure they don’t write them down to look up later – keep their attention with every syllable. That’s how you get away with it: cover model looks, physique to match, thanks to Her Majesty’s gyms, and a photographic memory, thanks to Great Uncle Albert.

There’s one girl you’re concerned about; doesn’t write things down but doesn’t look at you in the same way; attentive but aloof. The first to put up her hand. The first to get the questions right. Sometimes the only one.

You’re looking at her now and realise she’s the prettiest. Behind the nerdy glasses the greenest of eyes, sexiest body beneath the too-baggy uniform and when you hear your boss’ voice, asking you to follow him to his office, you’re sure you catch her smiling.

Please do go and read the stories from the other authors from this week’s posting.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on this blog’s Tuesday Tales page. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales blog – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 009: ‘Two Hearts’ (upbeat second person tale)

Sorry, couldn’t resist and yes, it’s another second-person story – anyone would think I can’t write anything else, it’s just that’s what’s coming out at the moment. It’s my favourite viewpoint so no hardship here.

Armed with the prompt ‘heart’, my third short story for online writing group Tuesday Tales, I headed off out with the dog to the park, and below is the result.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 504-worder offering. You can read the other 19 stories via http://tuesdaytales1.blogspot.com/2012/02/tuesday-tales-free-reads-from-16.html.

Two Hearts

The surgeon had told you that you shouldn’t feel any different after the operation. Uncomfortable, yes, but you’re not sure what you are feeling. Elated? Strong. Youthful. Not how you’d expected but then you’d spent years feeling sub-human, on enough pills to be a walking Tic-Tac packet, so anything else would have been better. And this, whatever it is, is beyond that.

Someone remarks on your lack of visitors, of family. Not loudly but just enough for you to catch it.

Norman, next door, has so many relatives that they have your allocation of chairs, and the almost-constant chatter is enough company when you need it. Norman’s had a bypass, just like you, but he’s not taking it so well. Or rather, it:him.

You’re due to be discharged today, soon in fact, you’re dressed, bag packed, just waiting for the all-clear but you’re in no hurry and you listen in on the conversations around you, from both sides; Norman on your right and Elvis on your left. You know that’s not his real name, you’ve not caught that yet as he’s a new recruit to the Thompson Ward but all he hums is The King so you’ve pretended it’s him; with your eyes shut, curtain closed.

As the doctor approaches your bed, you smile, sit up straight and shake his hand when he offers it. He asks you how you’re doing and you say you’ve never felt better. You mean every word and you’re glad you don’t have to lie any more. You want to start over, go back to your bedsit and look forward. Stop dwelling on things you can’t change. So you sign the discharge papers and leave.

It’s a 10-minute walk, past the park and normally that’s all you’d do, go past, but today you want to stop, go in, go to the lake, watch the dogs chasing the geese, the children feeding the ducks. Watch your old life but without regret.

You have pocket change so you head for the café to see it all from behind the warmth of the glass. You’ll buy some chips, hot, salted, unketchuped. They’ll be washed down with a large mug of tea, sweet and strong like Dawn said you were. In the early days.

Today feels like an early day and you don’t mind that it’s cold. Not really. The freshness feels inviting, crisp, but you’ve skipped breakfast so you’d rather eat here than at home.

As you approach the large panoramic window you see that the café’s packed, but figure you can probably squeeze in somewhere. You’re not as big as you used to be.

As you head for the door, you see a young woman struggling with a pushchair. You lunge forward, grabbing the door handle and pull it open, waving her in with a dramatic, sweeping gesture.

“Thanks,” she says in a broad, local accent. “You’re all heart.”

You smile and let the door close after her. You watch her take the last seat and you head for the lake.

The links to the earlier prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on my new Tuesday Tales page here on this blog. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales site – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers and specifically the other 19 of this week’s stories via http://tuesdaytales1.blogspot.com/2012/02/tuesday-tales-free-reads-from-16.html.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 008: Two Rows (second person pov)

Armed with the prompt ‘Love’ I headed to the park this morning (Sunday) to write my second short story for online writing group Tuesday Tales and below is the result. Last week I wrote a third-person story called Two Backwards One Forwards and in it was a small amount of second person. It’s my favourite point of view so I chose it for this week’s story. I hope you enjoy it… oh, and apologies in advance but a lot of my writing is quite morose and this is no exception.

Tuesday Tales provides a new prompt each week, the members write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean Joachim. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it. So, without further ado, here is my 467-worder.

Two Rows

You wonder if she’s married. She talks in first person. Always I, never we. Singular. No ring. Like you. You’ve never spoken to her, of course, just heard snippets of conversation from two rows ahead.

You think you love her – you’ve seen her every morning for the past three years. Evenings too sometimes. Strokes of luck that have you both finishing at the same time. You don’t know where she works as she turns left as she gets off the bus, you right. You’ve thought about turning left, following her, but that would be creepy and you don’t want to do anything that would put her off. Not that you’ve done anything to encourage her.

She knows you exist but not how much of an existence it is: work, sleep, little ‘play’ in between.

She’s always smiling, chatting to fellow passengers… on the phone. Never to you. But then you don’t let her get that close. Closeness is something you struggle with. Have done since…

You don’t like to think of back then. You’d rather it be a blank canvas on which to paint happy thoughts, fondly-remembered places, warm embraces.

She’s late this morning. You only remember her being late twice before – other than being on holiday. But then she didn’t turn up at all. You’d known she was going away – Mrs Davis had told you. Because the two ladies talk. A lot. Just day-to-day stuff, nothing too personal, more mother : daughter conversations.

Then you notice Mrs Davis is crying. You’ve never seen her cry before and you’ve known her longer than Beth. Just the thought of her name makes you smile but then you see Mrs Davis look at you and she bursts into tears.

You leave your seat and sit in the empty one beside her – Beth’s seat. You’ll keep it warm until she arrives. There are still plenty of people getting on so she has time.

You want to put your arm around her. Mrs Davis. Tell her it can’t be that bad and you’re still debating when she takes your hands in hers and starts speaking, between sobs.

“Oh, Tim.”

You wonder if her tears are because of Mr Davis but you don’t think he’s ever done something to warrant something like this. She doesn’t say any more and you wonder if she’s waiting for you to speak but she lets go of your hand and picks up a paper from her lap. She unfolds it, revealing the front page. You recognise the photograph. The smile.

You feel sick as you read the text. ‘Local secretary, Beth Robinson, killed in freak accident.’

The bus lurches and starts its journey. To the town centre. To the bus stop where you’ll be getting off. Turning right, as you make your way to the bank.

Smoky Zeidel, (currently challenging everyone to write 100-word stories including grasshopper, jackhammer and peppermint!) challenged me to pare this story down to 100-words so, always being up for a writing challenge (too many ‘challenge’s, get the red pen out!) I did it and you can read it below, within the comments section.

The links to the first seven prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on my new Tuesday Tales page here on this blog. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales site – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers and this story was listed, with 19 other writers, on the site on 7th February.

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called Short Story Saturdays where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.

 

Tuesday Tales 007: Two backwards, one forwards

A lot can happen in 24 hours. Last night (Saturday) I was invited by Jean Joachim to join her invitation-only online writing group Tuesday Tales. Being (predominantly) a short story author I was thrilled to be asked and gladly accepted.

The idea is that we’re given a new prompt each week, we write a story inspired by it and post it on our blogs / websites. Then we email the link and first two or three sentences to Jean. She then posts them on the Tuesday Tales blog (on a Tuesday ), gives us the link then we go out and shout about it.

This week’s prompt (my first) is ‘save’ and below is the 476-word story I’ve written for it. I hope you enjoy it (if ‘enjoy’ is the right word).

Two backwards, one forwards

John had never saved a life before. He wasn’t even sure this really qualified – the paramedics had taken over pretty quickly but he’d been the one who’d dragged the woman from the pool, lain her down and put her in the recovery position, something he’d not done since scouts, and Billy Wingate hadn’t counted as someone in any danger.

John hoped the woman would forgive him for chopping off her hair. He’d not been the first one to spot her but the only one with scissors. If it hadn’t been for Amy’s insistence that he mend her doll’s dress, he’d not have had them with him.

“I’ll do it when we get back, Amy,” he’d said.

“I want to take her with me.”

“But you’ll be swimming.”

“You won’t be, so it’ll give you something to do.”

When had his six-year old daughter become such an adult? he wondered. Since her mother died. Now he had both roles: father – breadwinner; mother – nurturer. He was better at the former. More practice: nine years vs. 18 months.

When you go to work, kiss your wife goodbye, as you do every day, stroke the side of her face as something had compelled John to do that morning, you expect her to be there when you get home, laughing and joking. You don’t expect a call from the school asking why no-one’s collected your daughter, regular as clockwork, only Laura’s clock had stopped ticking – just like that – as if the battery had run out. Two hearts, two batteries: Laura’s and their unborn son’s. Two lives he’d been unable to save.

A year and a half later, there he was, sitting by a Spanish pool in the summer’s early morning warmth – an only parent to an only child. A happy one, on the outside.

Amy’s screaming had jolted him out of a doze. Not quite asleep. Just eyes closed. Resting, if anyone had asked. Too little sleep for both of them. Nightmares – shared subconscious.

The sewing kit and tiny dress had scattered on to the concrete as he’d bolted off the lounger and run to where Amy stood pointing at a figure two metres underwater, hair trapped in the drain, costume sparkling like a mermaid.  He’d gone back for the scissors, panicking when he couldn’t find them, then spotting them under a neighbouring empty lounger, he’d straddle-jumped into the pool.

He’d felt guilty, cutting the woman’s beautiful auburn hair with the pathetic, travel-size blades until she came loose and started floating to the top. He swam up after her, grabbed her, towed her by her chin, arm across her chest, as he’d been taught.

She’d been lighter than he imagined she should be. Slim. Pretty. Laura-esque.

He’d felt a pulse, and as he watched the stretcher being taken to the ambulance, he was sure there’d been a hint of a smile.

Although the prompt ‘save’ started the story, the inspiration for the situation from Kate Atkinson’s When Will There Be Good News (character Reggie’s mother died drowning in a pool – no spoiler, we learn it early in the book).

The links to the first six prompts, and resulting stories, and the forthcoming prompts can be found on my new Tuesday Tales page here on this blog. Do go and check out the Tuesday Tales site – it’s a wonderful idea supported by talented writers. And the link that this story appears on is HERE – snuggled in with 18 other writers. :)

So, not only can you read these stories but you could also write your own using the prompts given each week. There’s no word count limit. Single-word prompts are something I regularly give my Monday night workshop and it’s amazing how different our stories can be.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything… and follow me on Twitter where each new posting is automatically announced. You can also read / download my eBooks and free eShorts at Smashwords, Sony Reader Store, Barnes & Noble, iTunes Bookstore, Kobo and Amazon, with more to follow. I have a new forum, friend me on Facebook, like me on Facebook, connect with me on LinkedIn, find me on Tumblr, complete my website’s Contact me page or plain and simple, email me.  I also now have a new blog creation service especially for, but not limited to, writers.

Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called Short Story Saturdays where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them)  on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are weekly episodes, usually released Monday mornings UK time, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.