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Short Story – For the love of the game. Part 3.

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Saturday 18th December.

Richard made a list of chores he hoped would make the day quicker. He made swift work of it until he reached the final one.

“Go for a run.”

He warmed up as he got changed. He left the house and was at the park quickly. Running along the path and weaving his way through other people, he turned a corner and continued around the pitch. He glanced down and tripped as he stopped.  

“It’s just below the height of the grass,” he whispered.

The day was clear and cold as he examined the best he could while running. Richard ran laps off the pitch before making his way home.

Later in the afternoon, he joined his friends on a video call, and they watched the last ten minutes of the football for the day. As they finished, Richard sat back in his seat.

“That was a decent afternoon of football,” said Richard.

“Yeah, I agree,” said one of his friends. “And Richard, you seem more upbeat than usual.”

He frowned.

“Mate, in a good way. After what happened with her, on calls, you’ve been a bit quiet. Nice to hear the real you coming back.”

“I know. Sorry. She just…well. You know what she did,” said Richard.

“She let you down, mate. You’ve been friends for years, and then she gets a boyfriend two months ago and ignores you? I expected more from her.”

“Yeah, so did I,” Richard said.

As a lump built in his throat, he let his friends talk for a while. He went to exit the call.

“Rick, is that football anniversary coming up? I read something the other day.”

Richard coughed.

“It is. Tomorrow. I might pay my respects.”

He spoke for a while about the tragedy and the match before stopping.

“Mate, keep talking. We’re just glad you’re getting back to your usual self.”

An hour passed by before they signed off. Richard decided against walking to the takeaway and cooked something himself. He walked into the park afterwards. The fog had grown and was now covering the pitch. Only the trees closest to him were visible. 

He sat down on the bench, and all the while, the mist did not move.

“No training the night before,” he said.

*

Sunday 19th December.

Richard smiled as he took his morning walk. A few passers-by sent funny looks his way, but he continued on. He stopped to check the weather on his phone.

“All the fog. All the time,” he said. 

Richard stopped and surveyed the mainly white and almost smoky view in front of him. 

“I’ll come back later,” he said.

Richard lost track of time as he settled into this settee and caught up with his family over the phone. He laughed and talked as he walked around his house. The night drew in as if a curtain had sharply closed on the day as he looked out of the window. He finished his last call with his Mum before opening his French doors to his back garden. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Only the sound of cars from nearby filled his ears and he smiled. He checked the time.

He slammed the French doors shut behind him, locking them quickly and went upstairs to get changed. He double-checked he had everything, and he took a few moments to shut the front door as he left the house. As he approached North Park, he checked his watch.

“Not long,” he said.

Richard slowed and rubbed his cheeks to get some feeling back into them. The fog arched over the path and got lower as Richard made his way towards the pitch. As he had hoped, the entire pitch but not the park, was hidden beneath a thick, white mist.

“Five to midnight.”

He looked around and could see no one else. The houses surrounding the park were masked by the cloud, with only a few lights peeking through.  

“Just watch. Just appreciate,” Richard said as he sat on the bench.

His eyelids became substantial as he took a deep breath of the cold night air before shoving his hands into his pockets. As he did so, his eyes closed. The fog cleared as they reopened. A rich, green football pitch with thick white lines to mark its dimensions lay before him. Richard looked behind, and the fog made a wall around him and the field. The referee, the only man in black amongst the twenty-two players, eleven in blue and eleven in red, brought the captains of each team to the centre. He flipped a coin, and the red captain motioned that he wanted to stay on his side. All three nodded, shook hands, and the captains joined their teams. Just before he blew the whistle, the referee looked over at Richard, nodded, and put a finger to his lips.

The smile across his face rarely faded as Richard watched the game. He looked to each face, some with long sideburns and mops of hair to others with quiffs and combovers. Each face was lit up with a smile or a laugh. Richard did not fail to notice that some of the goals were spectacular. Multiple passes strung together, coupled with decent positioning and an incredible piece of skill that ended with the net rippling with satisfaction. The goalkeepers were making the occasional save as Richard sat back and laughed as the players bantered. The referee blew his whistle as another goal nestled in the back of the net.

“Full time, lads.” 

Each player shook hands and spent a few minutes chatting and hugging. Then, after each player and the referee had spoken to each other, they all returned to their starting positions on the pitch. Richard stood up. The players turned to him and gave a slight bow. He felt his bottom lip quiver as he bowed towards each team in reply. The referee walked over and put out his hand. Richard reached out, only for the referee to point at a non-existent watch. Richard frowned before falling back. He opened his eyes. The mist had returned, and the players were gone.

“Thank you,” he said, as the tears fell down his cheeks.

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Short Story – For the love of the game. Part 1.

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Hello,

I hope you are well.

I started this short story during lockdown and finished it 6 months ago. It’s just shy of 2000 words long, so I’m going to post it in three parts.

It centres around a mid-thirties man named Richard. He is becoming slightly obsessed with the anniversary of a plane crash that happened in a park near him almost fifty years before. As he tries to get his friends interested, it becomes clear that he is using this to ignore some more pressing matters.

I’d appreciate your thoughts, and I’d be happy to return the favour. Apologies for grammar and punctuation errors this is a 3rd draft (I think)

Part One – Sunday the 12th December to Wednesday 15th December 2021

*

Sunday 12th December.

“Two football teams, playing on a Sunday morning at North Park almost fifty years ago, were tragically killed when a plane crashed into them. But, with each anniversary, it’s said that a dense fog covers the pitch, and from within you can hear them playing that fateful match. The fiftieth anniversary is next Sunday.”

“From within?” she said.

“Yeah. I thought it added something,” he said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes.

“Could you close the window? I hate the sound of cars from the main road.”  

“I quite like it,” he said before closing the window.

“You told me this already, Richard. I’m late to meet Lucas.”

“Stay a little longer. Please? We’ve spoken about the crash for months. You were interested….”

“I’m not interested now. Lucas thinks honouring something you’ve no link to is stupid.”

Richard stood up from his settee.

“And what do you think, Lucy?”

He waited for the answer as she looked at her phone, stood up as it buzzed a few times, and wrote a reply. 

“I don’t care. It’s stupid. You have no link to it, so why are you wasting your time, Dick.”

Richard walked to and opened his front door. Lucy’s eyes bulged before she regained her composure.

“We’ve been friends for years. In all that time, you’ve called me Dick once. And I told you then I didn’t like it, so you stopped. I don’t know who you are, Lucy,” Richard said as tears glossed over his eyes. 

“I have to go,” she said.

Lucy walked by Richard and out of the door.

“I’ll miss you,” he said.

She stopped halfway up the driveway for a moment before walking away.

*

Monday 13th December.

Richard strained to push the covers off him as he sat on the edge of his bed. He stretched his arms before taking a deep breath.

“The whole day to myself. Hmm… the sun does rise later,” he said looking out of his window through the blinds. The night sky was total, and stars were looking back at him. He checked his watch.

“I thought I dreamt that,” he said.

As he realised the whole day had disappeared, his bottom lip quivered. The tears began to flow as he got back under the covers.

*

Wednesday 15th December.

“Falling from the sky and crashing into and killing all twenty-two players contesting the season’s final game. No fans were in attendance due to an incident the week before. The managers and staff managed to get clear,” Richard said.

His friends smiled or raised an eyebrow over their video call. Richard clenched his fist out of sight.

“Look, mate, you’re better off without her. We’re glad you’re up and about,” a friend said.

Richard tried to get them interested but instead just listened to them. His fist unclenched as he began to join in. In no time, the call ended.

Richard smiled and went up to bed.

*

The Hunt: Part 3.

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https://johnrsermon.com/2020/01/27/the-hunt-part-1/

https://johnrsermon.com/2020/01/30/the-hunt-part-2/

The hunters scaled the car wall and onto the road. Their target moved at high speed down the middle as cars calmly drove to the sides. Sam and John smiled as they received cheers from the crowd. The lizard screeched back at them before jumping down from the road and into trees nearby losing the helicopters in the process. The hunters warned off the people with their cameras on the ground from following them as they kept chase.

“You talk to me about putting the public in danger? Oh, my days! Your aim is all over the place, and you fire bullets like they’re going out of fashion.” Said Sam.

“I’m firing the bullets to keep the target in my sights. It keeps feigning to go up a tree, and I keep stopping it. Unlike you and your archaic bow and arrow. Your arrows aren’t even sticking into the trees.” Replied John. Sam elbow barged John out of the way and smiled as he fell to the ground. John glared at Sam as he ran off. The lizard had now climbed a nearby tree and was moving quickly between the branches to stop Sam from getting a clear shot. Sam withdrew an arrow, but before he was able to fire, John speared him in the back with his shoulder and knocked the arrow out of his hand. Sam rose quickly and flew at John with carefully placed punches and kicks, which John was able to parry, but when he tried to retaliate each attack did not land and was pushed away. Each hunter was equal to the other, and as they fought, the lizard slowed down and stopped still in his tree and watched for a while. It slowly descended and continued to watch from the forest floor with its head twitching in different directions before stopping still again and calmly watching the fighting hunters.

“You really are predictable.” Said John as he kicked at Sam’s head only to miss as Sam spun on the ground and tried to land his kick, which John swiped away with a stiff forearm.

“How can you say that? The same person trained us. That makes no sense.” Sam said as he pushed John away and jumped into the air to try and land a punch from above. He missed as John took two steps backwards. “You are basically a blonde version of me.”

“You wish. You’re a brunette version of me.” John said. “And I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t you lie to me.” Sam said.

“He’s not lying.” Said a smooth voice from next to them. They stopped fighting and watched open-mouthed as the lizard morphed into a twelve-foot-tall man-lizard and stood on its back legs.

“Did you know they could do that?” Said Sam.

“No. Not at all.” Said John.

The man-lizard grabbed both men by the back of their heads and smashed them together. He recoiled and squinted as the crunching sound filled the trees and scattered some nearby birds. He then grabbed Sam’s hands and closed his eyes. Two huge black and green limbs changed into human arms and hands matching Sam’s. He carefully grabbed Sam’s bow and an arrow and fired one through John’s eye. He then took John’s hands and waited for the change to happen again. Once complete, he grabbed one of John’s guns and shot Sam through an eye. He placed the relevant weapons in Sam and John’s hands before looking carefully in John’s bag. The man-lizard found John’s spare bullets before searching Sam and locating all of his remaining arrows.

“Thanks for the chase and the fun, gentleman. And for the ammunition.” He said nodding in appreciation to the prizes he had just collected. With both eyes closed, he changed back into a lizard and disappeared into the night.

The Hunt: Part 2.

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https://johnrsermon.com/2020/01/27/the-hunt-part-1/

The lizard’s arms and legs flailed up and down as it struggled to run away, knocking people into the road and to the ground as it tried to flee. Cars screeched around it and ploughed into signposts and buildings and people. John bounded over the vehicles and quickly helped as many people as he could. He bounced across the vehicle roofs with some people cheering him on as he did so. John stopped for a moment and removed and launched a dagger. He punched the air and gestured to the growing crowd as the blade grazed the side and split some of the scaly skin from the lizard’s tail. The lizard threw up its head and howled as it kept moving.

“Stop showing off. It’s making its way to the tunnel. You know it can escape to the sewers that way, right?” Said Sam as he finished moving down the building and jumped onto the pavement.

“Really? I did not know that. Thank you so much, big Sam, for pointing out the most obvious thing known to any hunter worth anything at all.” John said as he continued and jumped on top of a recently crashed car. The lizard moved fast now, hitting its stride between people and vehicles and towards the tunnel.

Both hunters pushed their way through the panicked or mesmerised crowd and made sure to thank those who actively moved out of their way. The helicopters above followed them with spotlights. Cameras big and small followed them on the ground. Some more heroic passers-by tried to slow their target down but were dealt with efficiently by a powerful lizard limb. The tunnel approached, and Sam stopped on top of a post box. John looked back and groaned through his teeth. Sam took off his coat and aimed his arrow carefully.

A Land Rover coming through the tunnel suddenly started to swerve as the driver let the fear overcome him as the giant lizard hissed closer. Sam aimed and fired an arrow into one of the car wheels that burst and the car jolted and flipped over in front of the tunnel entrance. The crash caused several other vehicles to crash, and in no time, they began to pile up and block the tunnel.

“Dam, you Sam. Don’t put the public in danger like that.” Said John as he watched the lizard scale the cars and scurry up and onto the road running over the top of the tunnel.

“It stopped the demon going through the tunnel did it not?” Sam shouted back. He put his bow away and grabbed his coat before joining John again on the chase.

The hunters scaled the car wall and onto the road. Their target moved at high speed down the middle as cars calmly drove to the sides. Sam and John smiled as they received cheers from the crowd. The lizard screeched back at them before jumping down from the road and into trees nearby losing the helicopters in the process. The hunters warned off the people with their cameras on the ground from following them as they kept chase.

The Hunt: Part 1.

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The monster slithered up the side of the building. One hunter climbed after, and another pursued on the ground. As it moved swiftly between the windows and ledges, the grounded hunter fired his gun, shattering concrete and glass around the target. The climbing hunter stopped and fired arrows from a balcony but did no better and shook his head as the monster disappeared onto the top of the roof.

“Watch your aim, Sam. Stick to the roof and push it towards me. I’m going to try and gain some distance on the target from the ground and catch it as it comes down. Keep it in your sights.” Shouted the grounded hunter.

“Oh, well done. Tell me to run across the roofs instead of on the ground. The harder option and one better for you, John, so you get all the attention. As usual. And keep it in my sights? Such a hard task to do, given that the target is twelve feet long and half that wide.” Bellowed Sam as he planted his feet on the roof and caught sight of the lizard. He quickly fired an arrow, which shaved the side of its head. The lizard stopped on the edge of the rooftop and hissed down at the ground below. Its head bent right around, and it roared at the hunter before leaping across to the next building and landing awkwardly.

“Wind your neck in, Sam. You know I’m not much of a jumper. You excel at such things. We need to catch him.”

“Him? IT more like. And wind my…wind your neck in Johnny boy. And get rid of that smegging bag. It only slows you down.”

“I’ll get you for that Sam. Or should I say, Samwise.” John shouted as he disappeared from Sam’s view. Sam gritted his teeth, and one hand moved naturally onto his stomach. When he realised, he removed it and extended his spear. After five significant steps, he vaulted across to continue the pursuit.

The wind began to make his eyes water as Sam moved between the various obstacles on top of the building. A head followed by a long, greenish-black tail whipped up and down not far in front of him. The lizard slipped and favoured his back-right leg, and Sam saw his chance. He vaulted forward and as he landed the tail of the beast flew across his face, narrowly missing his nose but catching his spear and snapping it in half. Sam was now within a few feet and leapt to grab hold of the creature’s tail, which whip-like smacked him on the head. The lizard spun around and head-butted him in the chest, sending Sam thudding down onto his back. The lizard hesitated for a moment before moving towards the edge of the roof. Sam dragged himself across and watched as it scurried down the side of the building and weaved between ledges and windows. Debris started to fly in all directions and began to rain down onto the people below who rapidly started to scream and run. He glanced to the side to see John running to keep the chase alive.

Some Kind of Monster. This monster lives.

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Hello,

I take inspiration from many things. Usually, it’s during my day job (The odd comment I ‘accidentally’ overhear mostly) or when I’m out running. But mainly it comes from when I’m watching movies. I’ve always enjoyed watching sci-fi and western movies with the occasional monster movie in-between. Like everyone who enjoys films, I have watched plenty of the awesome as well as plenty of the abysmal. But I keep watching them. Even bad movies inspire me with how not to do something.

Like I said, having watched my fair share of monster movies (such as Godzilla, Clash of the Titans, Attack on Titan, and many others) I have always wanted to write a monster story of my own. But, for whatever reason, I have put it off. Until now.

Most recently, I have been focusing on a short story for a competition. I managed to get it finished before the deadline. That story is about two hunters, more concerned with getting plaudits than actually doing their job efficiently, and the giant lizard they are pursuing. When I clicked ‘submit’ and then wondered what to work on next, that lizard started to slither its way through my thoughts. But that lizard kept growing and went from twelve feet long by six feet wide (In the short story) and got a lot bigger. MUCH bigger.

UC5Ms46

Guess what influenced my story. You’ll never get it.

Anyway, in most of my other stories, I have included demons and dragons but never have I ever written a story with a big monster at its centre. I have my idea, and I’ve started to write. The beast is mid-rampage through Manchester City Centre, and I have one man who wants to get up close and see and another who is too close and has no idea what to do. I have started to write, and the story is moving along well enough. Each man is learning, and each is getting closer to the monster and who they are. However, I am beginning to wonder, should I work on the history of the monster first before starting to write a story about it? As in, should I create a full profile of the monster before I continue?

I know the origin of the monster, and I think I’m going to link it to other attacks from different countries. Or possibly keep it contained to the United Kingdom.

All this leads me to my question, have you written a monster-centric story, and how did you go about preparing for it?

Thank you and have a good day.

 

The Meeting

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Hello,

This story was meant to be my entry into a recently closed competition. A combination of fear and lack of planning found me missing the deadline. Nevermind.

So, here is the latest draft. It concerns a man who is going to meet his new girlfriend’s parents for the first time. And when I say new, she is almost brand new, and he is not sure if he should go through with it or wait a bit longer.

‘

Is she looking at me? Darren thought as he waited at the bar. His hands began to shake as he straightened his shirt and watched her approach.

“You dancing?” she said.

He shook his head.

“Fair enough. Would you like a drink?” She said with a smile. They talked for a while and bought each other drinks before exchanging numbers.

“What’s your name?” Darren said.

“Lucy.” She kissed him on the cheek and his stomach jumped as he watched her leave the bar.

“That’s new.” He said.

*

Over the next six days, they met three times and texted nonstop. Every morning he woke up more alert than the last as he eagerly checked his phone.

Exactly a week later they met again on Saturday for drinks. He suggested the same bar and the quickness of her accepting text confused and excited him. After an hour he was really enjoying the night, he went to the bar and when he came back two women were sat opposite Lucy.

“This is Keeley and Lindsey.” Lucy introduced. Darren smiled and greeted them warmly. Shortly after, the two friends went to the bar.

“Don’t be angry. They’re my sisters. If you like me, you have to like them.” Lucy said. Darren noted the subtle sharp tone in her voice.

“Okay.” He said. They kissed and resumed their night out.

*

“Every time I asked them something, they dodged the question. It was weird.” Darren said as he sat down. His mate went to the bar and brought over the drinks.

“You’re over thinking it, mate. You’ve done this so many times before.”

“But Ed, they barely spoke and only did so when Lucy was there. Without her, they were pretty much just glued to their phones.”

“Just relax mate. She’s nice, right?”

“Yeah, she’s really pretty and has a great smile. I get along with her really well.”

“Your eyes just lit up.” Ed said and patted him on the shoulder. Darren looked across the pub at a couple kissing and sharing a private moment. They looked about his age and the blonde woman reminded him of Lucy and the man’s short brown hair acted like a mirror for him. He smiled and drank his beer.

*

“Will you meet my parents on Friday?” Lucy said as they held hands and walked through the park the following Monday evening. Darren looked up a tree and around the park a few times before answering.

“Okay. But, isn’t it a bit…soon?” He said. Her grip tightened on his hand.

“You can’t put a time on true love.” She replied. His stomach jumped again as she kissed him.

*

“True love?” Ed Said as they rested after their Thursday evening run.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that in real life.” Darren said. They laughed as Darren unmuted his phone and raised his eyebrows as he registered the number of texts and missed calls.

“Is that what true love looks like?” Ed said.

“Maybe.” Darren replied. He smiled as he read the messages of encouragement about his run and their upcoming meeting with her parents.

Darren spent all of Friday thinking about the meeting. That dinner time much like the others during the week he visited different shops looking for a new outfit but never bought anything. He finished work and registered that it was Friday evening. We meet tonight then. His palms became sweaty as did the back of his neck as he looked through his wardrobe. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared back and forth between his wardrobe and his phone. He flinched as a text came through.

“My parents just wanted to confirm that you were still coming tonight and are REALLY looking forward to it. What takeaway you would like? I vote for pizza. Can’t Wait! xxx”

Then, Darren’s stomach jumped.

“Sorry Lucy, I don’t think I can make it tonight. You know that food my boss brought in today as a thank you for all our hard work? It’s been doing backflips in my gut and I’ve been to the toilet more times than I would like. Could it be moved to next week? Sorry again.” He paused before hitting send. He exhaled and instantly relaxed. Later, as he got in bed, he kept checking his phone.

*

Darren awoke with his phone still in his hand. He turned it off and lay in bed until midday. She’s angry with me. He got up and then settled into his settee and turned on the TV. After a few hours of watching nothing in particular, he remembered to switch his WiFi on. As soon as he did, a few messages came through from Ed and they all mentioned Lucy and the news. He checked his news app and immediately sat up straight.

“Are you joking?!” Darren said loudly. He slowly scrolled through the article about a huge police arrest made in the early hours of the morning. “That’s Lucy’s house!” His phone rang and Ed’s face came up on the screen.

“Darren! Are you alright, mate? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all morning.”

“Yes, mate. I didn’t go to meet her parents. Got cold feet. Faked food poisoning. I’ve just read an article about it. The police received a tip-off from one of the guests at her parents’ house that a man and woman were going to be killed as part of some ritual. Apparently, the ‘sacrifice’ of the new girlfriend and boyfriend of the leaders of the ‘The Greater Good’ group was to appease their god. Lucy was a leader!” Darren could hear his heart thump faster in his ears as he spoke.

“Will you be okay?” Ed said.

“I’ll be fine. I just need…a minute.” Darren said and ended the call. He sat back and exhaled. “That was a close call.”

Out to dinner.

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The restaurant around them hummed with conversation. The dark reds and blacks on the walls and the table cloths gave the restaurant a brooding feel. So much so that anyone who made a slight nose or spoke at a higher volume drew glances from their fellow patrons. Richard finished his meal and calmly placed the knife and fork on either side of the plate. He fought the overwhelming urge to lean back and grab his belly.

“Rude.” Said Rachael to his left. Her curly hair was almost in her food as she looked from his plate to his face a few times before exhaling loudly.

“What exactly is rude about me?” He asked. Rachael looked up quickly and her eyes widened.

“Well, …it’s not general restaurant etiquette to finish before everyone else.”

“That isn’t a rule of dining out. Or dining in. Or dining anywhere! And if it is, it’s ridiculous.” He replied. Rachael looked opposite to the woman sat to his right and back to her plate. The woman kept eating but paused before putting her fork down.

“Apologise.” Martha said. Richard exhaled and closed his eyes as his shoulders slumped slightly. He surveyed her ginger head as she continued to eat.

“My dear Martha. The apple of my eye. Do you remember that long conversation we had some six months ago? I want the exact opposite.”

Martha’s fork clangs down onto her plate and the sound lifts some heads from those close by. Her mouth drops slightly open.

“Can I ask you something, Donna?” He says to the girl opposite. Her short, silver hair shoots up from her plate. She nods.

“Throughout your long and I can only assume agonising relationship, has Rachael ever said that anybody was being rude for finishing their food before the others?”

Donna contemplates this and ignores Rachael’s glare.

“Yes. Plenty of times.” She replies in a small voice.

“Do you agree with her when she has done this?” Martha nudged him with her foot under the table. He moved his seat back slightly and crossed his legs so she could not repeat the action.

“No.” She replies instantly. “There is nothing in any etiquette manual or article that I have come across that says it is wrong to finish early.” A small smile crosses her lips. “And that is one of the many things that has annoyed me about being her girlfriend.”

Donna looks at Rachael and she looks down at her plate to avoid her eyes.

Richard takes out some money from his wallet and counts it a few times before placing three notes in the middle of the table. Donna begins to do the same but underneath the table. He leans back and groans with satisfaction while stretching his long arms towards the floor. He turns to look at Martha who crosses her arms. He blinks slowly taking a deep breath.

“I hope you find someone exactly like you and someone that possesses a forehead befitting of your thumb. And Donna, good luck and all the best in everything that you do.” He said glancing at Rachael. Donna smiles broadly and slips the money she has counted into the shoulder of her dress and finishes her meal.

Rachael slumps into her seat. He stands up and grabs his glass and downs what remains of its contents before leaving the table. He stops, turns, and retrieves the money he just counted and puts it into the inside pocket of his suit.

“You’re not going to pay for your part of the bill?” Martha asks looking up at him. Richard feels his hands shaking in his pocket.

“For two years, I have paid for every drink we have had whenever we have gone on a night or day out. With the only two exceptions being both my birthdays, which I had to convince you to do. And you stormed out of both of those parties. Consider this paying your debt.”

“How…dare you? You…enjoyed doing that for…me. Didn’t you?” Martha said. Richard looks into her eyes and the moment seems to last forever.

“…really?” Richard said. Martha looked for help where there was none before slumping back into her seat and wiping a tear from her eye.

Richard places one hand on her shoulder. She squeezed it before he leaves the table and the restaurant.

“Goodbye.” Martha whispers as Richard kisses her on the top of her head.

“Hold on.” Said Donna. She stands and grabs her bag to leave.

“Donna? Where are you going?” Rachel said as if to an insubordinate child.

“Away. From you. Finally.” Donna said rolling her eyes. Rachael looked back at the table and then to Martha.

“It’s still fairly early, fancy getting responsibly drunk?” asked Richard.

“Definitely.” Said Donna.

 

 

 

 

 

A sample of my own writing entitled…Untitled Project.

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Hello,

It has been almost ages since I last posted and I have no excuse for it. Work? Life? Whatever. I sit here now annoyed I haven’t posted sooner so here it is. The following is the first page and a bit of the last story I finished. It concerns a charity shop owner taking revenge on those who attacked him and tried to destroy his shop and his livelihood. It is the first draft so apologies for any errors.

This is as yet untitled. My first title idea is ‘Charity Shop Lad’ but this will almost certainly change.

‘

The unfortunately familiar sound of an item smashing against his wooden floor took Joe’s attention away from his and the shop’s finances and other important shop related things all of which he would rather do quickly so he can go to bed. Saturdays are always busy, he thought with a smile.

“Don’t worry about that, mate. It wasn’t worth much anyway.” Joe said.

“I wasn’t going to.” Mumbled the blue hooded man at the door. His friends giggled. Joe turned away and back to his books.

“A? How much for this?” Barked the hooded man. Joe walked around from behind his counter and over to him. From a distance, they looked menacing and almost fear-inducing. Up close, however, they were disappointing.

“The necklace?” Asked Joe. The hooded man grumbled. Joe noticed that his friends admired the necklace very clearly. “I can’t remember.” He lied. “Where’s the tag?”

“There.” Said the hooded man. Why so loud for a necklace?

“Ah. I see it. Fifty pounds. Hmm…seems a bit low. Wait here. I will check my book.”

“Low? The price is the price, mate. No changes.”

“I can change the price as I see fit, Sir. Let me just…”

“No, you don’t, mate.” Said the hooded man.

As Joe turned with the necklace in his hand to walk to back to his counter and his pricing book, the hooded man grabbed his arm. Joe put the necklace in a nearby vase before looking down at the hand gripping his arm.

“Please, Sir. I don’t want any trouble.” Said Joe. The hooded man’s friends had stepped over and now blocked the door.

“Well, you’ve got it, pal.” Said the hood. The man swung with his free right hand but as he did so, Joe kicked him in the shin and twisted the right hand and the arm round sharply. The hooded man screamed as his face hit the floor.

“Now, gentleman. Like I said, I do not want any trouble.” Joe said. He slowly twisted the man’s arm until he heard a small crack. “If I go any further, it may cause him some damage. I don’t want that to happen.”

The friends looked at each other and back at Joe quickly and with sweat forming rapidly on their foreheads. One friend lunged with a poor attempt at a punch which Joe grabbed with his left arm. He twisted the friend’s arm until it matched the hooded man. Joe, with two men’s faces, pushed against the floor and an arm within each hand, looked up at the remaining friend.

“Now, they will hurt for a few days but if they take it easy they should be fine. Maybe they will be okay for work on Monday. What jobs do they do? Do you all work together? Is that where you know each other from?” Joe asked. The remaining friend stared wide-eyed and unable to answer. Joe stood up and dropped the arms he was holding. The remaining friend jumped and ran out of the shop.

“Look, I’m sorry about that. But I did say I didn’t want any trouble.” The men walked out holding their damaged arms. “Just take it easy tomorrow and you should be fine for work.” The men ran out and Joe closed and locked the door. He watched as they were swallowed by the almost pitch-black night. He pulled down the blind over the shop door window and exhaled, putting his hands on his knees. He composed himself and looked around his shop. He savoured the calm and quiet before settling on a vase. He reached inside and held up the necklace.

“How much are you worth then?”

‘

Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you would like to, please leave your thoughts and such in the comments section. Thank you.

Bye Bye for now!

Feedback Request: A story based on public transport and giant alien worms invading earth.

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Hello,

Now, I’m always on the lookout for new ideas and usually, they just hit me from out of nowhere. As they always do. One day, an idea for a story came to me on the Tram on my way to work. This involved, for some reason, the Tram, and the Rockworms, which are one of the villains from the seminal Xbox game Gears of War 2. Combining these I found myself formulating an idea involving alien Rockworms invading Earth. Obviously. Not being sure exactly what would happen, I ran with it anyway.

So, the following is the first page of the first draft of the resulting story ‘They did warn us after all.’

If you have the time, I am interested in what your thoughts are on my work in progress. Also, if you want to, I would be happy to provide my thoughts on yours.

They did warn us after all.

“Maria? Are you okay?” Shouted Joseph, inside the mass of rubble and chaos that a rock worm had caused just minutes before. Their former office was slowly crumbling around them he rose to his feet with a shake and a moan. He stood and checked that he had his wallet, phone, and keys without realising they were not of much use anymore. The internet on his phone did not work and he jabbed and pressed until giving up. He heard something rustle not too far away and remembered Maria could be in danger. His fingers caught in the rip at the side of his green hoodie and he cursed under his breath. Numerous small cuts covered both of hands and only now did he notice the dull pain they produced. He took a step forward and what remained of the building swayed underfoot.

“Joseph…I’m here.” Maria said. He turned quickly and felt the floor buckle again. Her pixie cut brown hair was the only thing above the rubble. She struggled and managed to stand up and dust herself off. They both turned see a huge gap in the wall nearby. They both moved towards it but again the structure moved. Joseph held out his hand and counted slowly down from five. Maria took quick breaths to ready herself.

Sprinting over the broken wood and pieces of rock, they jumped out and onto the pile of debris outside. They managed to run down the pile before jumping as far away from the building as possible. The small quake ran through the floor as the building died in front of them.

“How are you feeling? You know…considering.” Joseph said. Maria jumped into his arms and kissed his neck. She pulled away as he winced in pain.

“Sorry. Force of habit.” She said.

“Don’t be sorry Maria, I can be the man you want me to be. That girl from the bar, I was just talking to her.”

“How can you be thinking about that? Look around you. The world is coming to an end and you’re still fixed upon something I told you I wasn’t bothered about.”

“I was only talking to her about the football that day…”

“Just….stop. Be quiet. We need to figure out what to next. Are you okay?” She said. Touching a few of many small cuts on his neck and hands.

“If they were all one cut, they would match that beauty on your neck.” He replied. Moving her shirt collar down slightly. “It looks worse than it is. Not too deep at all.”

“It doesn’t feel that bad. It will make a cool scar.” She said.

“I bet. Maria, I am not that selfish. And I have looked around me. Look at all the rock worms have done. Bloody government, why not just give them a home? They may have been helpful to us as well. I hear some of them are fiercely intelligent.” He said as he surveyed the piles of concrete, brick, glass, plastic and whatever else that made a building forming small mountains across the landscape. The mid-morning bright and clear sky showed Manchester for what it has become. Many buildings were still intact but more were reduced to rubble. No traffic or trains could be heard, which allowed them to listen to their own heartbeats with clarity.