Tag: Writing
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ANOTHER WEEKEND OVER
Frank left the apartment early to head into work. He found Hamish on the front lawn. Hamish was gagged and hooded, strapped in a straight jacket covered in fake blood, locked inside a shopping roll cage with crime scene tape wrapped round it. Frank had left the club early the previous night, leaving Hamish with…
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WHEN THE SEAGULLS FOLLOW THE TRAWLER
‘When the seagulls follow the trawler, it’s because they think sardines will be thrown into the sea.’ Ah, Eric Cantona. Those were the days of proper football: cult heroes; muddy pitches; crumbling stadiums and playing for the love of the game. Then the money men came and ripped the soul out of the sport he loved.…
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A MANHATTAN TALE
Rockefeller, the Radio City Music Hall, one block over Fifth Avenue. All the famous sights of midtown Manhattan surround him as he trudges along the street. He’s not interested in any of them. Not this time. When he first arrived he had been taken in by the glitz of the place. Not anymore. Now he…
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BY THE CROSSING
He sits and paints. I look around the room. There are hundreds of paintings. They all show the same bridge. Sometimes in sunshine, sometimes in rain, sometimes covered in snow. Sometimes the water underneath runs high, other times the level is low. In some the colours are bright green and blue, others are grey and…
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MUD PIE MOJO
‘Man, all I want is to eat a Mud Pie Mojo at the Cold Stone Creamery on North Marion Street. I’d give my other damn leg just to get back there.’ ‘You’ll get there. Give it time.’ ‘Easy for you to say.’ ‘Never said it would be easy.’ Rachel felt the scar tissue and the…
Iain Kelly 