I don’t think I can escape this house without spilling blood. I live in a small town just outside of Bristol with a population of only 20,000. It’s safe to say that everybody knows everyone’s business. As a child I was what people would refer to as normal. I played football with my mates, went to school and misbehaved like and ‘normal’ teenage boy. I struggled through my GCSE exams and completed a BTEC National Diploma in Sports Development and Coaching before I enrolled onto a Sports Coaching degree; and it is at this point that everything went wrong. Keep on reading!
The weather was dreadful. The relentless rain hammering down on the windscreen like it was desperately trying to find shelter was enough to reduce my visibility to about a meter in front of my car. Keep on reading!
Still need to read Chapter 1 & 2, Click Here!
Widespread panic engulfed the city. To the public, the government and emergency services were no more. Law and order no longer existed. I saw some of the best of humanity, but mainly the worst. My journey home took me towards a plume of smoke. As I got closer, I could feel the air become polluted and the blistering heat beat down on my exposed skin. As I turned a corner my eyes widened in astonishment. Keep on reading!
Whilst on my Creative Writing course I was asked to write a piece on a Shakespearean play or character, adding a modern twist to it. I decided to write a 1st person piece on bottom.
I am an actor. The moment I left my mother’s womb and was given the surname Bottom I was destined to put on an act. I saw it as a deterrent for any form of mockery from moronic adolescents who regarded their comments to be that of innocent merriment, unbeknown to them that each remark slowly chips away at my already fragile self-esteem. Keep on reading!
Chapter 2 of my short story Survival of the Fittest. To read Chapter 1, click on the category link ‘Survival of the Fittest’
Haven’t read Chapter 1 yet, Click Here!
The next week or so seemed to go from bad to worse. We were told by work to come to the building every working day. If the power came back on then it would be business as usual. If not, they would take a register of who had attended and that would reflect in our pay slip when things went back to normal. At first, the vast majority attended only to be turned away once their names were taken. Keep on reading
This is a short story about how I imagine what my son would think if we came home with another baby. Being an only child who receives 100% attention, I can only imagine what it would be like to no longer be the centre of attention. Anyway I hope you enjoy this little story of mine.
Since breakfast I have been playing Jenga with my Grampy whilst Nanny sits in her favourite armchair cheering me on. We have built a tower so high that we are going to have to yell timber when it starts to fall.
It’s my turn now. After prodding every brick, I pull a block from the tower, shaking with excitement to the silly sounds of Grampy going ‘Oh! Woah! It’s going to fall!’ Followed by Nanny hitting him with a cushion whilst telling him off. The block is free! I cannot stop the smile from spreading across my face as I breathe a huge sigh of relief. I gingerly move the block to the top of the tower, getting to my feet when we hear an irritating screeching sound, like when Mrs Peters runs her finger nails down the chalk board from outside the house. Keep on reading!
No one knows what started all this. I mean, we know what cause Britain to go dark, but no one knows who was behind it and how they executed their plan. Some people think it was ISIS, others thought it was the Taliban, some crazy fool was convinced that it was a Neo-Nazi cell and Hitler was actually alive, orchestrating the whole thing. To be honest, I didn’t care who started it. Whoever wanted this to happen would have had to be highly trained, highly motivated and heavily finance to achieve such an evil act. Keep on reading!