Night Bus

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AbeBooks, Amazon, Another Tease, Book, Book Depository, creative, Depression, hope, inspiration, loss, Love, Lulu, lyrics, music, nostalgia, Peace, poems, poetry, Prose, Publication, verse, war, writing

A short piece taken from the collection of poetry, prose and lyrics entitled ‘Another Tease’ (links at the end of the post. Enjoy!

I sat on the bus, watching the night-lit streets as they passed by like frozen, shrouded memories. The juddering, stop-start motion seemed to bring an uneasy comfort to my body, detached as it was from my consciousness. Other vehicles, heading in the opposite direction, appeared and then disappeared as if they were on some mythic quest, their headlights dull and dim below my position on the top deck of the bus, illuminating nothing but the first few steps on a journey without end. For a moment it seemed as if only they knew the direction in which to move in order to find some salvation, some respite from the pain, and yet I knew, contained within each metal box, was nothing more than one more lonely figure hoping beyond all hope that something, some miracle, would appear to snap them out of their coma.

Buildings rose up on either side of me now; giant monoliths, some pale and dark, devoid of life, tired and waiting for release, others still humming under the electric glow which gave them purpose. Their eyes stared out without seeing through the dark, and were gone again, lost to me as I moved steadily on. Their facades hung momentarily in my mind like all the faces of people I had met in my life, before fading into a sea of ashen memories. The night around me seemed to tighten its grip as, like an abandoned vessel, we sailed on.

To both the right and to the left of me roads sprouted off from the main artery down which I was travelling. They sparkled and twinkled with the hope of the newborn before even their lights were swallowed by the darkness into which, it seemed, the whole world had fallen. I shuddered as the bus lurched around a corner: not from the cold – I had long since become immune to that – but from the impending realisation that we were, at last, nearing my stop, my final destination.

And then everything was quiet, but for the pounding in my chest and the pulsing in my head. What if I were to remain on the bus? Would it eject me when it reached its destination, its point of termination, or would it show a glimmer of empathy, offer up a hand and cradle me to its heart? After all, my brain reminded me, what point was there to alighting, to leaving the bus to continue without me, if you were no longer there to welcome me home?

Another Tease – poetry, prose and lyrics

LULU

BOOK DEPOSITORY 

ABEBOOKS

ALBRIS

AMAZON

The Witness – an extract

Tags

Book, Consequences, creative, Extract, Lulu, Publication, short stories, stories, The Witness, writing

A short extract from the story 'The Witness' which forms part of the collection contained in my latest book 'Consequences '.
Hope you enjoy it (and if you do you might even consider purchasing a copy - details below). Thank you for reading:

Now he was back on the street once more, moving past the buildings as if he were unaware of their presence. Daniel moved as if he knew that he was no longer a part of the world around him. His eyes took nothing in whilst his mind was consumed by thoughts that his rational self refused to acknowledge. He could feel pools of sweat building beneath his arms and across his back despite the cooling breeze that had begun to drift across the city. Daniel found himself walking quickly, as if there were somewhere that he knew he had to be; as if he were trying to escape the thoughts that were battling within his head. Arguments raged within him, his thoughts switching from circles to spirals and back again, neither side able to gain the upper hand, to strike the final blow. 
Before he realized it, he had reached what he had hoped would be the comfort and safety of his own home. He turned the key in the lock and burst through the door as if it were the only thing that could save him. Behind it, crouching on the floor, he realized that nothing had changed but the empty objects that filled his vision. 



Consequences. 
Three tales exploring consequences; the consequences of random events, of choices and decisions made and of fate or chance.
A Slow Return sees a man analysing his emotions as he is forced to face up to the consequences of his actions following a random accident.
In The Witness a man's life unravels before his eyes after he becomes an unwilling witness to an event which may or may not have happened. 
But the collection opens with Spinning Wheel, a story of fate creating a situation in which the boundaries between reality and fantasy become blurred, leading a man into a series of unexpected consequences.

Lulu
Book Depository  
Barnes and Noble
AbeBooks 

Something Blue – Nine Things Blue

Tags

Another Tease, Book, creative, hope, inspiration, loss, Love, Nine Things Blue, nostalgia, poems, poetry, Publication, verse, writing

A crumpled card
Seaside view,
A sapphire ring
Not quite new,
The evening dress
Never worn,
A loving note
Newly torn,
A bluebell wild
Favourite bloom,
Hanging moon that
Fades too soon,
A hidden stream
Once was known,
A star-lit night
Secrets shown,
Cool eyes bright now
Soaked with tears

Something Borrowed (not really) – Borrowed Time (a song)

Tags

Another Tease, Book, Borrowed Time, City, creative, lyrics, music, poems, poetry, Poverty, Struggle, verse, writing

Ran on down through the night

Passed the high shot pusher on the corner,

A hundred hungry faces cried

A thousand tears of sorrow.

Saw the lost on the pavements

Met the all-day fallen on park benches,

Watched the closing of cafes

The all night sanctuaries.

A street light lit the alley

Old man crying in the gutter alone,

Hollow girls in the doorways

Promise of escape for some.

A wallet slips into the night

A thousand hands reach for offering,

A knife shines in the road

The broken hearts reach out.

Night time lovers flit across the sky

Don’t hear the dying breaths downtown,

The misplaced and abandoned

Souls that can’t go on.

The downtown joys of such men

Can’t feel the pain of life,

Too many broken hearts

Which live on borrowed time.

The things people say…

Tags

A Slow Return, Book, Comments, Consequences, creative, Gift, humour, Introspection, Psychological, Publication, short stories, Spinning Wheel, stories, Witness, writing

To complement the publication of my most recent collection of stories entitled ‘Consequences’ (details below), I thought I’d share some comments regarding said stories:

‘Probably the greatest book I’ve never read.’

‘Whilst not quite Dostoevsky, Kafka or McEwan, the author certainly uses words.’

‘A real page turner. I couldn’t wait to finish it.’

‘Simply a collection of short stories.’

‘I have just read an outstanding collection of wonderfully crafted short stories. This wasn’t it.’

Consequences. 

Three tales exploring consequences; the consequences of random events, of choices and decisions made and of fate or chance.

A Slow Return sees a man analysing his emotions as he is forced to face up to the consequences of his actions following a random accident.

In The Witness a man’s life unravels before his eyes after he becomes an unwilling witness to an event which may or may not have happened. 

But the collection opens with Spinning Wheel, a story of fate creating a situation in which the boundaries between reality and fantasy become blurred, leading a man into a series of unexpected consequences.

Lulu

Book Depository

AbeBooks

Barnes and Noble

Should you feel inclined to purchase a copy I send you my thanks in advance!

Consequences

Tags

AbeBooks, Barnes and Noble, Book, Book Depository, Consequences, Contemporary, creative, fiction, Introspective, Lulu, Publication, Release, short stories, stories, writing

I am delighted to be about to announce that my latest collection of short stories ‘Consequences’ is now available to purchase!

For anybody interested (and I’m hoping that someone is!) I have attached links to the bottom of this post.

Thank you!

Consequences. 

Three tales exploring consequences; the consequences of random events, of choices and decisions made and of fate or chance.

A Slow Return sees a man analysing his emotions as he is forced to face up to the consequences of his actions following a random accident.

In The Witness a man’s life unravels before his eyes after he becomes an unwilling witness to an event which may or may not have happened. 

But the collection opens with Spinning Wheel, a story of fate creating a situation in which the boundaries between reality and fantasy become blurred, leading a man into a series of unexpected consequences.

Lulu

Book Depository

AbeBooks

Barnes and Noble

(The astute amongst you will have noticed that I have not added a link to Amazon. This is because (for some reason best known to themselves) they appear to have it listed at a ridiculous price.

Should you feel inclined to purchase a copy I send you my thanks in advance!)

A Farewell

Tags

A Farewell, Another Tease, Book, Communication, creative, fiction, flash, flash fiction, Leaving, loss, lyrics, music, poetry, Prose, Published, short story, stories, story, writing

A very short story today taken from the collection of poetry, prose and lyrics: ‘Another Tease’ available via the links below.

Hope you enjoy this.

I thought of you then, on the day that I left, knowing, despite the words, that we would never meet again. I thought of you as I sat in the darkness, as the Sun dipped like a dying friend beyond the horizon for what might as well have been the last time. I knew that I, like the errant Sun, would rise again, but that neither of us would ever be quite the same: the Sun would burn fractionally less brightly, its gaseous source ever so slightly diminished, and I, with less reason to rise than before, would begin to become a shadow of myself. I thought of you and the words that we had shared wondering if you had ever truly understood my meaning. Had you thought of me as a friend or merely an acquaintance, and had I ever truly understood what lay behind your eyes? I thought of how close I felt that we had become, our shoulders brushing against one another as we shared a joke, our laughter spreading its roots between us connecting us forever, or so I had imagined. But did you leave me behind along with all the other artefacts of work when you closed the door behind you and returned to your home?

I thought of you and wondered whether I had been too obscure, too subtle in my words and looks, for you to see me. And what exactly had I felt? Was this a connection that I felt that I had needed or something that had burst upon me unexpectedly and had opened a new door which whispered quietly for me to go through? Perhaps the moment had come for me, after a life of living at a comfortable distance from the edge, to finally take a chance, a risk. But, of course, caution is a powerful bedfellow, and, by the time I had recognised the chance, if had closed its eye for ever.

I thought of you then and wondered if you had ever lain alone in the dark beneath the Summer’s heat: I wondered if, like me, you had lost yourself to imagination; and I wondered if you had ever found yourself with your hand between your legs, wishing its fingers were mine.

Another Tease – poetry, prose and lyrics

LULU

AMAZON

BOOK DEPOSITORY 

ABEBOOKS

ALBRIS

Fragments of a Dream

Tags

Book, creative, Fragments of a Dream, Publication, short stories, short story, story, The Candle Game, writing

The following is an extract from the short story ‘Fragments of a Dream ‘ taken from the collection ‘The Candle Game’. Further details are at the bottom of this post.

A flight of uneven steps, roughly hewn from the rust-red sandstone, cut their way up the mountainside. They wound, snake-like, disappearing every now and then like wisps of cloud in the hot summer’s sky. Beneath my feet they felt smooth and with each step I could sense the years falling away as if I were travelling not only physically but also through history. After a while they opened out onto a wide plateau which had been completely hidden from view until now. When I looked back it was impossible to see from where I had come: the steps had vanished and the landscape become a dusty red ocean of sand. In front of me I could see a group of men sitting cross-legged on the rocky ground. Each one had a shawl wrapped around his body, its colours, which I assumed had once been bright and sharply patterned, now faded and dull. Their heads were covered with white material which had been bound loosely to allow for enough excess to shield their mouths and noses from the dust which swept steadily across the plateau. The men were swaying slowly and gently from side to side, each one in perfect unison with his neighbour, as if in group induced trance. There was no discernable music, no rhythm that they were following, but, as I drew closer, I could hear a low hum emanating from the group. Each movement that they made seemed to reflect the subtle rise and fall of the hum which, as my ears became accustomed to it, I was beginning to detect. Their eyes were closed, turned inward as if they had vanished deep into their sockets. Some had wrapped the wisps of sand- scratched material around their mouths and noses; others wore it loose, letting it hang down across their chests like a symbol of faith. The faces of these men were dark, their skin scorched by exposure to a relentless sun which burned through the dry sky as if it were afraid that, by dulling its heat, it would be admitting its own frailty. Deep lines ran across their skin like rail tracks, merging and splitting over and over again, in constant motion. If one had the time and knowledge it would have been possible to read each passage of their lives now etched in their faces. The men were of indeterminable age, but to me looked as old as the rocks that surrounded them, as if they too had been worn away from the mountainside, resting, as they did, in small gatherings some distance from the now distant cliff face. They were old, but, as I watched the swaying faces, transfixed as I was by their union, I saw the contentment that grew between them. It stretched outwards like a huge, invisible spider’s web, seemingly connecting the thoughts of each individual to create a combined consciousness.

The Candle Game and other stories

LULU

AMAZON

BOOK DEPOSITORY

ABEBOOKS

ALBRIS

EBOOK

You’ll Never Walk Alone – Review

Tags

Adventure, Book, Chris Hall, Goodreads, Jade Camel, Liverpool, Monkey, Necklace, Review, Ruby, story, You'll Never Walk Alone

Time for another book review, I think. Today’s book is ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ by the very wonderful and gifted Chris Hall.

Chris Hall writes with a style which can only be described as irresistible. From the very opening of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ until the closing sentence I was hooked and, like all of the other stories of hers that I have read, I simply didn’t want to put the book down.

Written with great wit and humour, the story twists and turns, drawing new characters in as it unwinds, each of whom has their role to play. Without wanting to give too much away this is a story that is easy to imagine actually happening; the characters are all very real and three dimensional and some of the coincidences that occur along the way are very believable and, indeed, relatable.

Chris’s descriptions are vivid and clear, and certainly not over-worked, allowing the reader to easily form a visual narrative as they read. Would it help to have a little background knowledge of Britain in the 1980’s? Well, I’m not sure. Being British (and of an age) I found it easy to identify with the setting (even though my knowledge of Liverpool, where the story is set, is very limited), and I found myself chuckling at times at some of the references to which her characters allude: (‘You dancing?’ for example). So, in answer to the question, I would say not, such is the strength of the story.

There are moments within the story where I genuinely took a breath and thought ‘well, I didn’t see that coming’, which, if I’m honest, doesn’t happen that often.

And, of course, there’s a monkey! Who could say no?

This is a story that I know I will re-read over and over and, if you enjoy a good, realistic adventure (with just a hint of mysterious legend) then ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ is the book you’ve been searching for. 

Highly recommended. 

A quick review…

Tags

Adventure, Book, Chris Hall, E-book, fantasy, Review, South Africa, Spirit of the Shell Man, story, writing

Another book review appears to have escaped!

I hope that my review of ‘Spirit of the Shell Man ‘ by the wonderfully talented Chris Hall encourages you to check it out.

Spirit of the Shell Man is a wonderfully told and difficult to put down sequel to the fantasy/adventure Song of the Sea Goddess. In it, we are re-introduced to the central characters of the prequel, and their personalities continue to be developed with wit, skill and humour. Yes there are many references to the previous story, all of which link perfectly, and with continuity, for anyone who has read ‘Song…’ . What stands out in this story, however, is the quality of writing which ensures that this is not merely a sequel but also stands on its own two feet as a work in its own right.
Spirit of the Shell Man is a thrilling and compelling adventure story which combines both action, fantasy and a touch of mythology, and yet is rooted very much in the everyday lives of a group of people living in a small community in South Africa. Chris Hall’s characters are rounded and interesting and her attention to detail in her descriptions allows the reader to fully visualise every scene. There are twists and turns a-plenty here which will keep the reader on their toes and guessing right up until the story’s fulfilling conclusion.
Highly recommended.