Category Fiction
A real artist
It must be said that most members of the Arts Council in our small town have something of a stubborn streak about them. You’d agree if you met them. One of them believed that arts meant culture with a capital K. It was there in bold letters on the opening page of the minute book. […]
Life is great, baby
The age of miracles is not yet passed I thought some time ago, on hearing news of Billy Rolands, a former schoolmate. Nothing had distinguished his time at school, nor mine. We belonged to a group possessing the happy knack of being there but seldom noticed, and whose real education began the moment we left […]
A peculiar swing of the pendulum
Quite a number of city folk look on me with something akin to pity when I tell them that I live in the country, especially when I mention the name of the town. Odd really as many came from similar situations themselves. Some faces soften: those who’ve made it financially; or those in the process […]
Final confirmation (conceptual realisations)
It was the absence of familiar sounds that pushed the first alert button in my mind, as Sugar, our cat, hadn’t purred her gentle, ‘Get up and feed me now!’ call in my ear. The second alert registered when I realised my eyes were open but there was nothing to see; just a soft, creamy […]
A winning creation
Recently I was very privileged to be able to attend a competition entitled: the ‘Best Hat of the Day’, held by a branch of the Country Women’s Institute in the Waikato district, on the outskirts of Hamilton, New Zealand. Their guests were the women-folk of the district’s social and welfare organisations, invited so that the […]
A request for an ‘SAE’
Ralph Pennington-Forbes believed himself to be a well-balanced person. Some would smile at that. To put it plainly, he was a Burgher, born of English-speaking descendants of early Portuguese and Dutch people who settled in Ceylon, as it was called then. His parents had purchased a small valley close to Adam’s Peak, clearing the land […]
The writings of a Lancashire lad 
Talking stones
One visitor moved away, wandered out through the gate, down the street and into the countryside. She found a hollow in a field, sat down and looked around. Gradually the occasional hum of insects and twittering of birds gave way to a quietness which eased the tension inside her. At some point her fingers found […]