Saturday, 18 October 2014


Image courtesy of Wikipedia Commons, taken by AlejandroLinaresGarcia and shared under Creative Commons

It was supposed to be a surprise, that & a last ditch attempt to save our failing relationship.

I was too young & stupid, or maybe naive to realise it wouldn't work. I assumed that since we were in a sexual relationship marriage would follow (I told you I was stupid!)

I'd had such a crush on him since the first day I started on the same college course as him.

Such a crush that I thrown caution to the winds, thrown all my plain white cotton knickers away & thrown myself at him.

I'd come from an all girls school, was an isolated, cosseted, only child & the sudden influx of people of the male gender into my sphere of notice had turned my life upside down.

When he started to lose interest in me & started hanging round with her, a skinny goth with an assortment facial piercings. She was aloof, I was desperate. 

I begged & pleaded, nothing worked. He raved about her piercings & how sexy they made her look. I followed him around until he called security & said I was stalking him.

I did some research, I decided to take the plunge, I couldn't have facial piercings, my parents would have a fit. I decided to have piercings my parents wouldn't see.

Friday, I visited the local tattoo parlour, the only place that would do what I wanted. 

Fuck, they hurt, all of them, my clothes rubbed & I could barely walk.

But on Monday I knew he'd be in the college cafeteria eating breakfast at 8:30.

I was determined to Make An Entrance, I chose my outfit carefully. Very short skirt, the latest Nike trainers & a tee shirt, artistically ripped.

I felt like a million dollars, until that is, I walked through the metal detectors the college had installed in the aftermath of last terms stabbing.

The alarm sounded, security arrived, I tried to run towards him, the security guards grabbed me, threw me to the ground. I landed tee shirt up under my armpits, legs akimbo.

And there they were for everyone to see, rings through my nipples & two rings & a padlock holding my labia together.

The security guard was close enough to read the inscription, he chortled & was about to read it aloud.

I twisted one leg free & kneed him in the jaw, I heard it snap.

Still, I'm over him now, I've had time to think about what went wrong.

One of the prison guards is really cute, I'm sure he fancies me, but of course he can't say anything until I'm released in 6 weeks time.

Friday, 10 October 2014


I was just about to leave for work when the urge took me again, I’d thought about it the previous evening and made my plans. In the morning I was undecided, was it right to do such a thing or wasn’t it. Eventually I stopped dithering, I grabbed the knife, a long sharp knife from the drawer. It was a spur of the moment decision, after all I reasoned, I didn’t have to use it. I wrapped it in a clean tea towel and hid it in the bottom of my bag. The tea towel could be used to clean it afterwards, to save messing up my bag.
It wasn’t a nice atmosphere at work, lots of people were stressed and unhappy, what I was about to do would be good for some people, maybe some wouldn’t see it that way but that was their problem. I’d thought long and hard before I’d come to a decision, in the end my decision was made on the basis of some small evil causing the greater good. Some people thought I was evil, baking such delicious cakes and taking them to work when so many of the team were trying to lose weight. I felt that everyone deserved a treat especially at year end when there was so much pressure.
I would take in cake and bedamned to those who didn't appreciate it. 

Friday, 19 September 2014

School Bully

Cool is not cool
- Matt Smith in Doctor Who, written by Steven Moffat

As I walked into the office I recognised her immediately, the hair still backcombed to a ridiculous height, the same sneering face as she harangued one of her colleagues.
'I won't be the one to go,' she snarled 'Even them twats from head office will know I'm quality, they'll get rid of you, you're crap'.
I checked my paperwork, Tracy Burton, how could I not have realised. She'd been the coolest girl in my class & made my live a living hell.
For the first time ever I was going to enjoy making someone redundant!

Sunday, 14 September 2014

The Hotel

She paused opposite the  grand entrance to the hotel, she would walk through the doors soon but for now she paused, not because she was intimidated by the hotel, no, she just wanted to run through the instructions the agency had forwarded from the new client.
Hotel guests all know that the concierge will be able to provide them with a hooker, but those with more unusual tastes use the agency.
She checked her suitcase, no handcuffs or nipple clamps this time, just a tea strainer, wellington boots & tube of Deep Heat, oh well what ever floats your boat, she thought.

Friday, 5 September 2014

The Bridge

Dare she take that walk, the one over the bridge?
Even on a good day, when she wasn’t down or depressed, she felt drawn to the water, looking into its oily, swirling depths.
Today, the anniversary of losing everything she held dear, dare she.
Only one way to tell, kill or cure, she’d walk that way, over the bridge.
One day she wouldn’t arrive on the other side.

Tuesday, 2 September 2014

Bitter Pill

It was proving a bitter pill to swallow, but it was of his own making, his desire, his obsession with fairness, or parity as he chose to phrase it.
He was entitled, surely, to parity. She'd had 5 or 6 lovers before they met, where as he'd only had sex with 2 girls and one of them had given him a dose of the clap.
He had so little sex as a teenager, two shags in ten years it wasn't fair, he needed more, to even the score.
Eventually it dawned on him that he was never going to catch up, make up the shortfall between her sexual conquests before they wed and his measly head count.
He tried to even up the numbers by cheating, but he really didn't have the social skills to get women into bed with him, he spent days, weeks sometimes working out long list of arguments as to why one of his colleagues should have sex with him, funnily enough this didn't seem to work & as rejection made him aggressive & resentful sometimes even a 'no' that meant 'ask me again' ended up with anger & recriminations.

Browsing on line he found the answer, swinging, woohoo, this was for him. No difficult conversations, no persuasion, all he had to do was grab a set of keys from the bowl & he could get laid.

He emailed an application, when the reply arrived it posed another problem, to go wife swapping he needed to take his wife with him & she didn't want to go! And anyway, if she went too, the head count would still be uneven.

Friday, 29 August 2014

Better Days

True is it that we have seen better days. 
-As You Like It, Shakespeare

Me, I'm customer focused, that translates to I wanna make money. So when one of my regulars told me there was a market for parties for older swingers, I was in like Flynn.
Wednesday afternoons, tea & cake instead of wine & nibbles.
Hundreds of the buggers turned up well 15 - 20 couples every week.
They aren't welcome at the other parties, their saggy bits & wrinkles scare the young & beautiful away.
Me, I don't care, it's all more money for me & I ain't gonna watch.


Here is the picture prompt.  Please credit it if you use it on your own blog.

Here is the quote

Your rules are really beginning to annoy me

- Escape from LA

'Rules, smules' bitched Joey 'For chrissakes Vinnie, we was hired to steal the box, lets just fecking steal it'
Vinnie patted the air placatingly, 'Joey, Joey, have I ever steered you wrong? Have you done any time in clink since you started working for me? ' 'No you haven't, I've planned every job and we've got away every time'
'He's right' said Mac 'We've got away every time, the cops have known it's us but never pinned anything on us'
'OK, OK' said Joey 'But that's cos we've followed Vinnie's plans, not some crackpot client who thinks this box holds holy relics' 'It's like one of those stupid games my sisters used to play, turning round & throwing apple peel'  'We're bank robbers, not a bunch of stupid prom queens'
Vinnie had to agree, it did seem stupid to chant some idiotic verse before touching the box, they'd got past the security measures, they should just grab the box and run, but Vinnie had been spooked by the client's insistence.
'Lets just do as he asked' ' form a circle & repeat after me'
'Bollocks to that' shouted Joey and reached out to grab the box.
There was an almighty flash of light, so bright they were all blinded by it.
By the time they could see properly again they were in separate interview rooms each spilling their guts, unable to stop confessing to every crime they had ever committed.
'Guv, you best get down here' said DI Watson, 'This is seriously weird'
'Look at their faces, they look horrified at what their doing, they seem to be trying not to talk, it's like a compulsion'
'Where are their briefs' asked DCI Johnson
'We offered' said DI Watson 'They all refused to have a solicitor present, they demanded to confess' 'But looks at their faces, they don't seem o be able to stop themselves'
DCI Johnson smirked 'Watson, I don't give a flying feck why they are confessing, just get the bastards locked up, our crime figures are gonna look fantastic this month'

Friday, 22 August 2014

Shopping list

Image by Ed Webster and sourced from Wiki Commons under Creative Commons
When I saw this prompt it made me think of a shopping list

I don't bother with a written shopping list, I buy the same things every week.
This is how I earn money to pay the bills. 

10 bottles red
10 bottles white
Case of lager
Case lemonade
French sticks
Assorted cheese
1 gross condoms
3 packs wet wipes

Do the assistants think I'm a middle age,  alcoholic, sex maniac? Occasionally one of them makes a comment 'Having a party?' I just smile & pay the bill.

Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Lottery Numbers

Lyssa Medana

I check the lottery numbers religiously every Wednesday & Saturday, not the Tuesday & Friday ones, they don't count.

I note the numbers down in a little book, waiting, watching for a pattern to emerge.

My workmates tease me 'You need to check the numbers against your ticket' they say 'not just write them down in a book' .

I smile at them, they are nice enough, not malicious, they just don't understand.

Night after night I pore over the numbers working out all the variables, there must be a pattern, there must. Sometimes a pattern begins to emerge but it fades away when more numbers are added. Still I continue to work on them, to study them.

I have a girlfriend, her name is Maddie, she's what my mum would describe a as 'One o' them hippy dippys'.

She listens when I tell her about the numbers, but I'm not sure she believes me. Mind you, I don't always believe her when she tells me that my aura keeps changing colour.

Eventually I find the pattern I've been looking for & everything falls in to place.

The following day I give my notice in at work. I don't tell them the truth, well I do, sort of, 'I'm going travelling, with Maddie'. I get teased a lot, jokes about taking plenty of condoms, I just smile, they don't understand.

I meet up with Maddie in the town centre, she's carrying a rucksack. 'Why'd you bring that' I said 'I told you, you won't need anything'. She starts to argue, so I let her bring it, she'll see when we get there.

We catch the bus out of town & when we got off we start to walk, it's a good hour or two & Maddie starts to complain that her feet are hurting & she needs to rest. We stop for a while but then set off again,we mustn't be late.

The time & the place were quite clear, we have to be punctual. I wonder if anyone else will be there, if anyone else has seen the messages.

But no, we were the only two there, unless, I panicked, we were late & they'd all gone.

We wait in strained silence, what if I've got it wrong, what if we've missed them.

Darkness falls, Maddie starts to grumble, suddenly she falls silent, a bright light appears, accompanied by a thrumming noise.

I was right, they are here, Maddie & I are lifted up in a beam of light.

Suddenly we are inside, a voice speaks 'Welcome, enter the door ahead, there you will meet with the others who were able to work out the patterns & follow the clues'.

We enter a large room, there are about a dozen people there, all smiling & chatting together.

The voice speaks again 'We will arrive in Alpha Centauri in a few hours, until then make yourselves at home'.

Maddie stares, open mouthed, 'You didn't believe me when I said I was getting messages from outer space, did you' I reach over & gently shut her mouth.

Thursday, 14 August 2014

The Chair

Image courtesy of the Wiki collection of Commons Images
It was a miserable damp day, as miserable as my mood, I'd just finished the interview & been told I hadn't been successful,it wasn't that I wanted the job, but I needed it desperately. I was sick to death of spending all day in my grubby little bedsit & I needed to earn some regular money, the odd few days temping I was getting wasn't enough to survive on for long. Unfortunately it's hard  to get a job wahen you are over 50 & when your skills are also outdated.

I had an hour to kill before the bus home, I toyed with the idea of sitting in a warm cafe & making a coffee last an hour, but I'd only be tempted to buy something to eat. It would be cheaper to wait 'til I got home & make a cup of instant coffee & toast.

I wandered into an arcade full of antique shops, it was warm & I wouldn't be tempted to buy anything. As I edged between the various items I felt an imperious tug on my skirt, like a spoiled child, demanding attention. I turned, my skirt seemed to be caught on a small slightly tattered chair, I stepped away, untangled my skirt & moved on. Once again I felt the same imperious tug, I turned again, this time I put my arm on the back of the chair. As I did, I felt a strange frisson, like a mild electric shock, I jumped back & then reached out again, this time a stronger jolt 'Buy me' it demanded. I took a longer, more careful look at the chair, it had originally been beautiful, small & low, pale blue embroidered silk.
I looked for the price, but couldn't find it, an elderly man materialised at my elbow. 'Such a shame, it must have been beautiful when it was first made'. I agreed with him. 'Are you interested in antiques?' 
'I like looking' I replied, 'but I'm not in a position to buy anything'.
The elderly man tried to change my mind & eventually I opened my purse & showed him the contents. 'This is all I have, look less then £4!'
He grabbed £1 coin, 'Done' he exclaimed!
'I can't pay you just £1, even in it's current state, it's worth much more'
'I'll make a deal with you' he said 'I think this chair will bring you luck & make your fortune, if I'm correct, you can pay me when you make your first million'.
Nothing I could say would change his mind & eventually I left the shop carrying the chair.
I haven't made a million yet, but I'm half way through my second novel &  every time I touch the chair I get that same frisson, the same jolt & with it inspiration for yet another plot line.

Saturday, 9 August 2014

He travels the fastest that travels alone

He travels the fastest that travels alone 
- Rudyard Kipling

Today's offering for the Light & Shade Challenge

He called it his motto. The phrase from Rudyard Kipling, "He travels fastest that travels alone". It was just his excuse to run away. Whoever he was living with he He kept a bag with his passport, money, and a change of clothes in a prominent place in the hall way. It seemed to work, women seemed to fall over themselves to prove to him they they were 'the one'.
This one scared him, so he did what he always did, he ran.
When he arrived at the hotel in a new country, he realised he'd been right to be scared.
Hea opened his bag to find, not his clothes, but hers and no money. And a note. 'Got You'

Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Not This Way

Photo by Thomas Marlow
My take on this prompt from the Light and Shade Challenge

Bill sat in the land-rover, the signs he'd just removed had been stacked under a tarp in the store room along with the tin of black paint. There would be plenty of time to replace them later when the 'bonding session' ended. He'd be very careful, after all, he didn't want to go back to prison again, even if this time it would be for a crime he had committed. 
Bill checked his watch, time to go to the station to collect this weeks 'victims' it wouldn't do to be late, he's been very lucky to get this job with Chiltern Corporate Training and it was all down to his little sister, she'd persuaded her husband who owned CCT to give him a chance, a job, when he was released from prison. As she'd explained, it was a white collar crime he'd committed, he'd got carried away in the testosterone fuelled atmosphere of city banking. He felt he'd had more to prove then the other guys, they'd all gone to the right schools and belonged to the right clubs. He was just a council house boy made good and the butt of many jokes because of this, well the other guys called them 'jokes', bullying would be nearer the mark, especially Piers he loved practical jokes that caused really injury etc. in Bill's case a broken ankle on one occasion, some nasty burns on another and of course, when the shit hit the fan and the huge hole in the pension fund was discovered the others all closed ranks leaving Bill, or Wills as he was known then to take the blame and carry the can. 
As Bill approached the station car park a tremor of nerves hit him, this group included his nemesis Piers along with his chosen lieutenant Jasper. Would they recognise him? Bill took a reassuring glance at himself in the mirror, he was 5 years older, he's lost weight in prison and working in his current outdoor job he'd built muscle and grown a beard. Bill was very good at his job, the premise behind the company was team building, he encouraged the participants, drew out the the best in people, he ensured any bullying was nipped in the bud speedily, his time in banking as the victim of the bullies along with his time in prison had helped him develop the skills that made him an exceptional member of the CCT team.
Bill heard Piers and Jasper before he saw them, Piers was haranguing the railway porter about getting their bags on the trolley and Jasper  was guffawing in his usual sycophantic manner in the background. 
Bill strode on to the platform 'Are you the group from Euclid Holdings he asked?
'Yes,' sneered Piers, 'and I can't seem to get this idiot to find a trolley for my bags'.
'I'll take it from here Tom' said Bill to the porter. 
'So, did you get the email about one rucksack each?' asked Bill eyeing the pile of suitcases. 
'Well it obviously didn't apply to us' said Piers, that's just for oiks who are on one of your cheap deals' 
'It applies to everyone' said Bill calmly. 'OK, everyone grab your rucksacks and climb aboard the land-rover'.
'Right, each of you can carry one of my cases' shouted Piers.
Bill stepped forward. 'No, there isn't room in the land-rover, six people,  six rucksacks, that's all' he stated firmly. He picked up a rucksack and looked at the tag, 'Johnson?' he passed it to the tall skinny blond who'd waved a hand, he passed each rucksack to it's respective owner, all the time Piers was still pushing his cases towards the others. They were looking a bit surprised but were following Bill's lead, ignoring Piers and shuffling towards the land-rover.
'What about my cases' blustered Piers, 'There is storage at the station, left luggage lockers, I suggest you use those' Piers continued to argue, but Bill climbed into the land-rover and started the engine. Tom reappeared at Bill's shout, started to move Piers suitcases, when Piers finally climbed into the land-rover the others kept quiet and refused to meet his eye. Piers grumbled all the way to CCT and upon arrival he demanded to see 'the head honcho, to sort out this stupid mistake' 'You' he said poking Bill in the chest 'will be driving back to the station to collect my bags'. To Piers chagrin, he was told that Bill was right and that his bags would be staying at the station for the duration of his visit.
 Bill soon realised that Piers was the same nasty piece of work he'd been when they had worked together, he lost no opportunity to belittle and bully the other team members, a couple of times he did stupid things that could have endangered the others. Bill was constantly on guard keeping Piers in check, Piers, in return became more and more furious about being thwarted, he complained about Bill constantly. His complaints cut no ice with the boss, he knew that Bill was consistently good at what he did and if someone was complaining it would be a problem of their own making.
By the end of the course  Piers was seething with rage, he's been constantly knocked back  during every activity and competition by Bill who stopped him cheating, stopped him bullying his other team members and stopped him blaming everyone else when he failed at the task in hand. He had lost his grip over the others, through Bill's calm treatment of Piers they had found the confidence to stand up to him, sometimes he even caught them sniggering about him when he tried to throw his weight around. And Jasper, Jasper was the worst, he's started to be seen as the team leader, the others followed him now in preference to Piers.
On the last weekend the teams all competed against each other on a treasure hunt, but without the CCT staff monitoring their every move. Bill's team chose Jasper to be their team leader, everyone was given a map and a list of challenges, they had to make use of all the skills they had learnt during the course, navigating without a compass, finding food, water and shelter etc.
The prize was a bottle of champagne, Piers could have afforded a case of the stuff but that wasn't the point, Piers by now was desperate to prove that he was better than the rest of them. The teams set off but by the end of the first day Piers had struck out on his own, he wasn't interested in completing the challenges, he just wanted to prove he was still the best, still the winner.
Later that evening all the teams were back but there was no sign of Piers, the plan was for the CCT crew to to set off at first light in search of him, after all, he's had a weeks training in bushcraft, he had some equipment with him so he should be ok, they would start by combing the woods near  the area where Piers had left his team and set off alone. 
Bill, having a damn good idea of where Piers would be, grabbed his kit and set off as soon as he realised Piers hadn't made it back with the others. He took a shortcut and within an hour had made it to the line of trees that he'd left the signs on, beyond it was the ravine. Bill shone his emergency light over the edge and shouted 'Piers, Piers, are you down there?' Silence. Bill swept the light along the ravine again, he spotted something, a figure laying very still at the bottom.
Bill got out his rope and was soon rappelling down the side of the ravine.
Piers was unconscious but still breathing, Bill radioed for assistance and before long a full rescue team had arrived, Bill and Piers were whisked to the nearest hospital, after being checked over Bill was released Piers remained until his broken ankle could be set.
When Bill returned to CCT his sister was waiting in him room for him. 'You bloody fool' she hissed 'He could have died!' 'Yeah, well that was what I planned' replied Bill, somewhat shamefaced. 'Dad died from a heart attack within hours of me being sentenced and Mum didn't want to carry on without him. I wanted to kill him!'
'Well thank god he has nothing worse than a broken ankle' she replied. 
Then she asked 'What made you go to the ravine to look for him'
'Because Piers never could follow orders, the map would take him right by the line of trees, I put signs up saying No Entry, I knew he'd go that way in the hope of getting back first and winning the prize'.

Friday, 1 August 2014

May cause drowsiness

Instructions on a pack of sleeping tablets - "May Cause Drowsiness"

Well I should bloody well hope so, I thought as I read the packet. Let's face it I was too wired to sleep otherwise and I had to be up in 4 hours to drive the happy couple to catch their flight to Hawaii.

The Wedding had gone off well, but the reception had been a nightmare.

My official title was Wedding Facilitator, I loved my job really, most of the time I really did. I was able to remain cool calm and collected. Unfortunately it was the during the reception when everything went to he'll and somehow I always seemed to be the one to sort out brawling bridesmaids, maudlin drunks and vomiting teenagers!

Snow globe

Image courtesy

Written for the Light & Shade Challenge

I fumble feverishly in my pocket, thinking I'd lost it. It's the only thing I have left of my old life, everything else has been sold. The globe is beautiful, it has no value, otherwise I'd have sold that too, I'd sold everything including my body to keep a roof over my children's head.  In the end it was to no avail, I lost my home, my children. But sometimes I take out the snow globe & shake it, I look deep into the scene & can almost imagine myself back in a warm house with my children around me.

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

My name is Shelley & I'm an alcoholic

My latest story for the latest Light & Shade Challenge
Picture Lyssa Medana

The drinking just sort of crept up on me, bad day at work, an urgent deadline, have a glass of wine, a row with hubby, have a glass of wine, someones birthday, Christmas, have a glass of wine. Wine seemed to be the answer to everything that happened, good or bad. Lets face it, most normal people drink don't they, oh I used to have a friend who only drank a small shandy 2 or 3 times a month, but I'd stopped socialising with her, she was weird, right!
I had trouble getting to work on time as I spent ages on the toilet every morning. I went to the Dr's & described my symptoms, but when she asked me how much I drank, I lied. I claimed the drinking habits of the friend I'd scorned, I came out clutching a prescription. It helped a bit for a while, but before long it stopped being effective & I was back to being late for work. When I was at work I was often drunk, falling over drunk. I told them I was suffering from Labrinthitis & they believed me. After all, most peoples idea of an alcoholic is a a smelly down & out sleeping in a doorway. 
My husband was concerned about my drinking, mind you he often found my stash of empty bottles, I tried to pass it off as a 'collection for recycling' but he wasn't fooled after the first few times. He tried to help, paid for rehab, therapy but I carried on drinking, I just hid it better. I drank a bottle of wine in the car park before I left work, I popped to the shops & drank a bottle of wine in the car park before I returned home. 
This was my downfall, I drove home & crashed the car, fortunately the only damage was to the garden wall, but I passed out, paramedics were called & I was admitted to hospital. It was there I was told that the next drink could kill me, not next year or even next month, but instantly. 
Everyone believes this is the wake up call I need, me? I'm not so sure, it's OK when things are running smoothly, but what happens next time there is deadline to be met at work or even another celebration & it's not as though I feel good. I feel like shit most days.

Saturday, 26 July 2014


Light & Shade Challenge Story
Courtesy of
Simon gritted his teeth and forced a smile, he chewed manfully on a home made rock cake, it tasted awful and rock was a very accurate description. If he could just persuade his batty old Aunt Judith into a home, he could sell the huge rambling house she lived in and make enough money to pay off his gambling debts.
She'd been a famous author in her day but her books had fallen out of fashion. Simon really didn't see why she should be sitting on such a goldmine when he had real need of the money.
'You'd be warm, safe and comfortable if you moved to Yew Tree Lodge' he said with false solicitude.
Judith agreed and thanked him for all the trouble he'd gone to to find a home she was happy with.
Simon drove away, delighted that his problems would soon be over.
Judith sat, she smiled, it was a pity Simon hadn't taken the time to ask about the books she's written, murder mysteries, every one of them, mostly involving poison.
If Judith had judged the dose correctly that she'd added to the cake mix and she certainly had, Simon would be driving along the cliff road when the poison took effect, his death would be deemed an accident. And he'd saved her the trouble of looking at lots of homes before she decided which one to move into.


Image courtesy of

My story for this weeks Light & Shade Challenge
Well what an idiot I'd made of myself, screaming & crying like that, half the workforce now think I've lost my marbles, the other half will think the same when word gets out.
I'm sat at my desk, still snivelling & hiccoughing, trying to decide what to do, what to say. I'm 40 today, not a toddler on the first day at nursery.
Though for the moment it doesn't matter as I cannot leave my office, or even my desk for now.
Eventually I make a decision, I phone the one person who knows about my problem, not that she understands, she thinks I'm mad but at least she knows & I don't have to explain myself.
With a trembling hand I lift the telephone receiver & dial her number, she picks up eventually, her voice blurred with sleep. 
'Sis, sis, it's me, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need you help, I'm so scared.'
When she stops laughing she replies 'OK, OK, calm down I'm on my way, I'll think of something, stay put.'
Thinking bitterly that I have no choice but to stay put, I hang up.
True to her word, she arrives about half an hour later, to me it seems like hours.
Within minutes of her arrival she is talking to the staff & their puzzled looks turn to looks of sympathy, no one is laughing, so she obviously hasn't told them the truth.
She enters my room & puts her arm around me 'I told them an elderly relative died suddenly & that you shouldn't have come to work today'
'Thank you'
'Come on, stand up, close your eyes, 'll tell you when we are past them'
We go to a coffee shop just round the corner from work.
'They will clear your office up for you, they will all be gone when you go back tomorrow'
'Thank you' I say again.
She passes me a business card.
'What's this?' I ask
The name of a good therapist!
'I don't need a therapist! There is nothing wrong with me!' I snarl
'Oh right, so every time someone decorates your office with balloons for your birthday or Christmas. I'm gonna have to come over & invent a dead relative, just so you don't have to admit you have a balloon phobia' she replied.
'Well it's your bloody fault, you hid balloons in my bed & they scared me half to death'.
My sister screamed her reply 'We were 6 for Gods sake, get over it!'

Friday, 18 July 2014

Two stories

Two short stories one for each Friday prompt on the Light & Shade Challenge.

Niccolo Machiavelli

He tapped at the keyboard, watching the flickering screen, his hairy, stubby fingers at odds with his screen name of ‘Teengurl’.
‘Send me a pic’ the message from ‘Bieberwannabe’ flashed up.
‘Send me one back?’ Pictures flew, a generic teen girl from a library of pics he has in various stages of undress, a picture of a topless teen boy with a Bieber hairstyle.
The chat turned to sex talk.
Then ‘Wanna meet?’
The following weekend, two overweight middle aged men, at the station, one looking for ‘Teengurl’ the other looking for ‘Bieberwannabe’.


Image courtesy of

What was the number, her date of birth, his?
It had seemed like such a good idea, in the shop, exciting, arousing.
They had spent a small fortune on sex toys. Worn one item home, like  a child with new shoes.
But now, at fever pitch, desperate to consummate, they couldn’t remember the combination to the padlock on the chastity belt they’d bought!

Wednesday, 16 July 2014


Age is a high price to pay for maturity Tom Stoppard

My latest offering for the Light & Shade Challenge

They say that age is a high price to pay for maturity & maybe it’s right, but Jesus, I just wish she would gain some maturity soon as this was getting tedious.
I wiped the snot off her face & the sick off her chin; I helped her stagger to her feet & got her back into bed. ‘But he told me he loved me’ she wailed
‘I know, I know’ I said soothingly. Wondering when she would learn that some guys would asay anything to get into her knickers.
‘All I want  to do is find Mr Right’ she sobbed, ‘Why does it have to be so hard?’ I’d given up suggesting she looked somewhere other than the local club scene, my remarks had been bitterly refuted, ‘What do you know, you’re middle-aged, staid, you don’t know how to have fun’ ‘You want me to stay home & knit like you’ she’d accused. Well she was probably right, I had no interest in going out, dancing & getting drunk & yes I could knit, but I’d rather go to the theater or a museum than a club.
I took a surreptitious look at my watch, bloody hell I had to be up in two hours to get ready for work, I sent up a silent prayer ‘Please let her fall asleep soon’.  I stroked her head, got her a glass of water & pulled the covers up to her chin, ‘Go to sleep, it will all look better in the morning’.  I sat with her until I was sure she wasn't going to be sick again & when the crisis of tears seemed to have passed, she fell asleep.
 At least when she’d been thrown out the club, pissed as a fart & screaming abuse, security had the sense to ring me. No taxi would take her for fear she’d throw up & put the cab out of commission for a couple of hours. But I had happily abused my position of editor of the local paper & run articles about clubs abandoning drunk clubbers once they were off the premises. The local clubs now would try to ensure the safety of those people who couldn't stay in the club because they were drunk or disruptive, especially the females!
 I had a shower & got ready for work. There was no point trying to get back to sleep, I had to be at work soon. I made myself a cup of coffee & sipped it in a leisurely fashion, keeping an ear out for any further noise from her room. I often wondered if one of us was a changeling, we had so little in common. I worked hard, paid my bills & took my responsibilities seriously. She was feckless, didn't have any interest in anything apart from the next drink, the next party, the next fit guy.
Still I couldn't wash my hands of her, she was my mother after all.                                                          

Saturday, 12 July 2014

Bored & Desperate

I realise that this is way over the word count, but hope that as it is two stories in one I can be forgiven.

Prompt from the Light & Shade Challenge

Marjorie stood at the sink washing and re-washing the same tea cup, despite being what her mother kindly described as 'big boned' she was wearing a see through robe and nothing else, she checked the clock yet  again, another 30 minutes to go, the keys were left in the front door, the stage was set, the script memorised. She was torn between lust and embarrassment. What would Ted, her husband of 25 years think if he could see her now.

Darren mooched along the road, he should be home tidying the flat he shared with his girlfriend Julie, but he couldn't be arsed.  The keys left in the front door caught his eye, he glanced around to see if he was being watched.  Darren wasn't a full time criminal, but never missed an opportunity to nick something if he thought he could get away with it, the problem was he often didn't, get away with it, that is.. He was regularly up in court, but all he got was a slapped wrist, he was well known to the local police, they all recognised his skinny frame and bony face, generously covered with teenage acne He was the despair of his social worker who thought a short sharp shock, maybe a spell in prison would sort him out. Sometimes his girlfriend Julie thought that to, but she loved him so much & had done since the first day at Infants school when she had been placed next to him and he'd protected her from some mean boys.

Marjorie heard to key turn in the lock and went weak at the knees, should she run or hide, or stay where she was & hopefully fulfil one of her sexual fantasies. She'd be far too embarrassed to talk to Ted about her secret desires, but talking on line had seemed a safe and anonymous outlet for all her pent up desires. Senses heightened, she felt rather than heard him enter the room, she started to quiver, why didn't he say something, they had discussed the script at length.

Darren stood, transfixed, he'd assumed the occupier of the house was upstairs as there was no noise downstairs, he'd crept into the kitchen intending to grab the handbag he could see on the corner of the kitchen table. But there was this huge bird in a see through thingie. Suddenly she turned, threw off the robe and exclaimed 'Take me, I'm yours'. Darren's jaw dropped, then he fled, empty handed and also empty bladdered, He ran and ran he didn't stop until her reached the flat he shared with Julie.

Marjorie was mortified, her on line contact was called 'Camberley Casanova' he had described himself as 6'3, late 50's, tall dark and not so handsome he'd insisted he like mature, larger ladies. The teenager that had faced her briefly across the kitchen table before he'd fled, had been 5'6 tops and from the look of horror on his face when she'd turned to him did not like mature larger ladies.
The full implication of the risk she had taken suddenly hit home. Marjorie grabbed the keys, locked the front door and rushed upstairs, she threw her robe in the wash basket and hurriedly donned her usual garb of leggings with a baggy tee shirt. Minutes later after cleaning up the puddle left by her visitor, she was sat at her laptop drinking a cup of tea, soothing her shattered nerves with a chocolate hobnob. A noise at the front door set her nerves jangling, but she had the keys, they were no longer in the lock, they were on the table in front of her. 'Any chance of a cuppa?' it was Ted, her husband.

When Julie got home from work the flat was spotless and Darren had collected their baby son from her mothers, he was making beans on toast for tea. He proudly showed her the details of the four jobs he had applied for, all minimum wage, the sort of job he usually sneered at as being beneath him. He seemed different, suddenly more mature and sensible. 'Is everything OK?' Julie asked him, 'Have you got caught robbing again?'.  Darren was insistent, he was never going robbing again, he was fine, he had just decided it was time he grew up and took care of his responsibilities.

After drinking the cup of tea Marjorie had made him Ted gave her a peck on the cheek. 'Do you fancy going to that new Italian restaurant this evening?' Marjorie was surprised & pleased 'Oh yes' she replied. Ted returned to his office, once there he fired up his laptop & logged on to He looked but the profile for 'Bored & Desperate' had been removed, he smiled & then closed down his own profile 'Camberley Casanova'. He would try a lot harder now to keep his wife happy, especially now he knew about her sexual fantasies.

Saturday, 28 June 2014

Shattered Glass

Picture by saavem on

My story inspired by this prompt on the Light & Shade challenge.

Every show of indifference, every unkind remark. 
Every act of petty spite causes my heart to cool and harden. 
Violence isn't the only form of domestic abuse.
Cuts and bruises heal, so, in time, do broken bones.
But the heart, once frozen is harder to repair.
The beating centre shrinks and atrophies. 
Eventually even glass will shatter.
Pressure from outside, more unkindness or spite.
When it shatters it means death.
Pressure from inside, the small part still beating.
Fights back when love returns.
A baby grandchild will shatter even a glass heart from within.
To renew love & life.

One swallow does not make a summer.

One swallow does not make a summer.

OK, so I made a mistake, An error of judgement, but come on, I'd just won the biggest order the company had ever received. The Champagne was flowing everyone was euphoric. Suddenly we found ourselves alone.  We were kissing then I sank to my knees and gave him a blow job.
So I repeated the mistake 2 weeks later at the Christmas party! What can I say, I'm a sucker for brown eyes!
It's now May and everywhere I turn, he's there, at my elbow. 
'I love you' he says, 
'No you don't' I reply 'It's lust' 
'I do love you, I want to marry you'
I'm tired of trying to let him down gently.
'You know the saying. One swallow doesn't make a summer?'
'Yes' he replied, puzzled.
'Well two swallows doesn't make a relationship' I snarled as I stalked

With apologies to Kathy Lette I believe I stole this line from one of her books

Tuesday, 24 June 2014

You pays your money

Linking up with the Light & Shade Challenge.
Here is the quote

You pays your money and you takes your choice
- caption on a Punch cartoon

I heard the bustle of new arrivals from across the room; I was in the kitchen area serving drinks.
I looked across at my co-host, Paul, all 6ft 4 of him dressed in a black & white French  maids outfit and wearing killer stilettos, unlike me, he’d wear the heels for an entire evening, I’d take mine off as soon as I could. 
I was somewhat amazed at the sight of our new arrivals, I know we like people to dress up and have fun, the rules say clothing should be ‘scene appropriate or smart casual’ but a cowboy outfit is not what people usually wear to one of my parties.
Once he’d greeted our new guests Paul called across the room to me ‘Scarlet, honey, could you pour me a vodka & lemonade, I’m parched’ Paul is teetotal, this is our code for ‘We have a problem, we need to talk now’. It was very unusual for us to have any problems, maybe someone would overindulge on alcohol, usually through nerves, but that about as serious as it gets.
I wandered casually over to Paul and passed him a glass of lemonade, ‘What’s up?’
‘Go, introduce yourself to our new guests’ he muttered cryptically ‘You’ll soon find out’
I made my way over towards them, noticing that there was a large space all around them, this was  strange, as the room was quite crowded by now, I also noticed that a few of our more predatory guests had approached them  and then rapidly backed off.
 As I got nearer I realised the problem, I slipped behind the bar, opened the cash box & grabbed a couple of £20. I headed back towards the couple, who were by now bickering heatedly. The closer I got the worse the smell was, I wanted to take a deep breath and hold it, but I needed to talk to them so I needed to breathe.
Plastering on my brightest smile I introduced myself & asked ‘Are you new to the scene’,
‘Not exactly’ replied the cowboy, he smiled at me, showing a mouth full of blackened rotting teeth.‘We’ve met a lot of people but we never get beyond the first meeting’ he said ‘’I blame her, she’s fat, she puts people off’  'They don't want to have sex with us, so we've come to a party' I turned towards his wife, her BO nearly knocked me sideways.’ I don’t think weight is an issue’ I reassured her. ‘Sometimes people gel and sometimes they don’t.’
‘Unfortunately you just aren’t gelling with anyone tonight, so I’m afraid you will have to leave’
‘But we’ve paid our money the cowboy insisted’ 'we’re entitled to have sex with people at the party, we’ve paid our money it's our choice'.
‘Sorry’ I said firmly ‘you may have paid but so has everybody else and it’s their choice not to have sex with you’r At this I returned their payment, plus enough to cover their petrol money and ushered them smartly out the door.