Tommy stared at the bloody handkerchief in his hand. He thought back to the night before. He remembered the trip to the pub with his friends, he didn’t think he had drunk that much. Shit, then it hit him the guy who had shoved him in the club for spilling his pint. His hands trembled … Continue reading The Drunken Night That Changed Tommy’s Life – Short Story
The worse part of being a traveller is that you never know how long you will stay with any family. Sometimes it can be a couple of weeks, sometimes a couple of years. If you are lucky, on very rare occasions, travellers find forever families. This is such a rare occasion I try not to think about it.....
If this hammer could talk, what a tale it would tell. As I look down at its strong wooden handle and metal head I hear its voice. I catch my reflection in the shiny metal and see the woman I have become. The handle is smooth. Rubbed down with the hand that has gripped it firm. Dirt shows around the edge. The part of the handle held, still shiny and sleek. The dirt rubbed away with the heavy work that has been carried out with its help.
All the back pages covered the news of Darius Deaddog Dunn’s humiliation at the hands of his mother. He had been ten rounds into the biggest fight of his life when his mother had thrown the towel in for him. Not any towel either, the woman had thrown a tea towel onto the canvas. This effectively stopping the title fight. Darius and his team had a plan. Having watched Rowe’s past fights the man could only last ten rounds. He tired so much after the tenth round, he was dead on the canvas. A couple of punches after that and he would be down. The tough part was withstanding the first ten rounds at his hands. Darius and his team had put a plan together, where he would withstand this. The plan had all been going well until his mother threw her tea towel onto the canvas.
He sat there crouching down in the wet grass, waiting for his dad to say go. A bead of sweat ran down his back. He followed it in his mind as it made its way between his shoulder blades and down the small of his back. He tried to move his knees to regain some feeling in them. He felt the damp grass soaking through. Everything over the last 21 years had led to this one moment. His dad had assured him that this New Year he would start with a new regime. This year, his resolution was to become a better man and follow in his father’s footsteps.
Mary stood in the bedroom and put her hand into the warm, silk pocket of her husband's trousers. Some suit trousers were rough and coarse. Mary ensured, that Jonathan only ever bought the best trousers. Nothing in the right pocket. In the left pocket, Mary found a piece of crumpled paper. The paper caught her hand as she pushed her fingers into the corner of the pocket. Smoothing the paper out, she saw it was a receipt for yesterday, from a local hotel. Mary felt her stomach churn and her heart beat out of her chest. Jonathan had not mentioned that he had been to a hotel the previous day. Mary felt her face flush, as the realisation hit her. Jonathan had lied to her. Mary took the trousers and the offending receipt with her, downstairs. She made her way into the study. Finding Jonathan's laptop on his desk she sat down on the leather chair. Feeling the cold from the leather through her thin trousers, she logged his laptop on.
The paper had mounted up around the wastepaper basket, over the hours. Michelle tore yet another sheet of her pad and crumpled it up into the smallest of balls. She pressed the paper between her fist until her knuckles went white and the paper cut into her skin.