Currently Browsing: Short Stories

Me and my Computer

Recipe: One part of nostalgia, two parts of imagination. Add ice, stir, do not shake. Pour into Martini glasses and enjoy. I’ve been a widower for nearly three years now. There are times when it’s very lonely—but I’m not trying to bring back the past. When I have those depressive moments, I usually descend four steps to my tiny office and sit in front of my computer, eyes on the screen, fingers on... read more

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

I should warn you. This is not your usual short story. It’s more taking you on an imaginary investigation. Don’t panic, however. It’s guaranteed to be painless (well, more or less) even if it is puzzling. I’m not going to tell you anything you haven’t already observed. Go to that tall hall mirror to check it out. It reverses your image so that your right hand becomes your left and vise versa.... read more

Easter Meditations

Next week will be Holy Week in the Christian calendar. Hundreds of millions of Christians will pay some heed to Good Friday (the day of Christ’s crucifixion) and Easter Sunday (the day of his resurrection.) Many non-religious people will mock or pity these “superstitious worshipers.” We investigate this with some imaginary interviews. “Now, here’s John Smith. Thank you for agreeing to see us,... read more


Hey, maybe it’s my age. I’m just past the 60 km mile-post, you know. So I don’t think I’m senile but occasionally I get these strange… “experiences.” No, not dreams. At least I don’t think they’re dreams. Maybe “visitations,” I just don’t know whether they’re real or not. So let me tell you about these experiences. Sometimes, yes only SOMETIMES, and I don’t seem to have any... read more

I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles

Oh, don’t pay no never mind to me. I’m just a stalk of wheat left over after the fall cutting. Standing all alone, swaying in the wind, with all my friends dried up and blown away. And here I am sitting with my beer in front of me, in my favourite pub, The Lazy Poughman. I’m just me by myself. Me and my beer. Sort of lonely like. Of a late October, Friday afternoon. Don’ think we’ve met before.... read more

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