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Posts from the ‘Short Stories’ Category

27
Nov

The Ghost Town

By James Gray

Joe said good night to the porter and wished him a pleasant weekend, stepped out into the street, and was glad to let the door behind him close on another week. It was a day in July much like any other, except today was July 23 and it was Joe’s birthday. Read moreRead more

29
Nov

The Power of Love

By James Gray

Mr. Fox wrenched open the door of his black 1985 Toyota SR5 pickup and slung his leather briefcase into the passenger footwell. He made a point of nodding towards a ground floor window of the main building, where the Tweed-clad “Rocky” Lyons was watching from the warmth of the teachers’ common room, cigarette dripping from his mouth.
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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