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Posts from the ‘Original Fiction’ Category

19
Nov

Allow 28 Days for Delivery

By James Gray

Mike’s eyes opened reflexively to the vision of a crisp white sheet billowing tent-like only inches above his naked body. He felt a growing irritation at the gentle currents of air that brushed his face like a tiresome fly and which were exaggerated by the dryness of his lips. He became aware of his arms, tucked in flat against his sides, his fists clenched and thumbs pointing downward as if he were lying to attention.

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15
Oct

The Postcard

By James Gray

Ambrose leapt from his armchair. “Get in there, son!” he said, causing Brian to drop the glass he had been cradling while he slipped into an early evening TV slumber. Ambrose found himself watching in slow motion as the IKEA tumbler bounced off the floor and, he figured, at least two quid’s worth of Jameson’s soaked into the living room carpet. Under normal circumstances he would have throttled Brian and sent him back to the offy. Two quid’s worth of Jameson’s!

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29
Sep

The Sam Supremacy

By James Gray

The wind took its cue from the fading light and began to blow ripples across the hillside until the surface resembled a gently swelling sea of green. Sam cocked his head to one side, trying to decipher the whispers, but they told him nothing he didn’t already know. He was surprised to find that the trail was long gone, but he was still able to follow the route, guided by instinct and echoes of the past. He trudged on towards the top of the hill, pausing occasionally to catch his breath whenever the wind gathered sufficient pace to stop him in his tracks. Read moreRead more

16
Sep

Sauce

By James Gray – Based on a true story

Timmy’s dream was broken by a hissing noise and he awoke with an urgency, trying to remember if he’d switched off the TV set before coming to bed. His eyes were stinging and yet he suddenly felt wide awake as he stared upward. A full Technicolor image of his father appeared to be projected onto the ceiling, though the silhouettes of the hotel room’s fixtures and fittings still hung in the dark around him.

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21
Jul

Turning Point

By James Gray

Max Harris removed a black leather glove and punched in the access code that triggered double doors of glass and brushed-steel to swing as wide open as a fake smile. He leaned his head forward and shook the collar of his trench coat with his gloved hand, anticipating and then cursing the pain in his neck and shoulders as he did so, and crossed the point of no return. He had just enough time to swing round and shoo off an imaginary flock of birds with his umbrella before the doors closed, shutting the world out and Max in. Welcome to my parlour, he thought.

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