“If you walk on the cracks, the bears will get you.” “No, they won’t.” But they did. Not bears exactly, more trans-dimensional, multi-versal, quantum-coherents with no sense of humour. ‘The Spooking of Einstein’ is in Urban Fantasist’s Grievous Angel today. 290 words, free to read. Continue reading ‘The Spooking of Einstein’
When shit happens, sometimes a purr can help a little. Continue reading Purr
Trevor Baylis, the delightfully dotty inventor of the wind-up radio (by which I mean the radios you wind up to make work, not the ones that wind you up and stop you from working), lives on an island in the … Continue reading ‘Ye Gods!’
Today, we’re off to the Vet’s and it’s the turn of Ms Muppet and General Montgomery … Aiming for nonchalance, I set out the two carriers in a separate room. These are minutely explored, inspected and then inhabited by every cat except my two targets so that guerrilla tactics have finally to be employed. Nabbing Ms Muppet, who is essentially a two-cat-cat-in-a-one-cat-pack, I go for the cooperative approach, pointing her at the entrance to the carrier and shoving gently from behind. So she does what cats uniquely do under those circumstances and morphs into a star shape, grabs the sides … Continue reading “Aliens on Your Sofa”
For us, High Tea was a Highly Mannered ritual to be performed for the purposes of demonstrating one’s capacity to set out the cutlery in the right order and on this one particular occasion we were being visited by some rather puffed up relatives who, at their own home, had a front room into which riff raff like us were never invited, but from whom my parents hoped to cop the odd bob or two when they passed on. When the time came we only got a pair of curtains from the rellies and I buried a cat in one of … Continue reading “Lawn Dogs & Budgerigars in the Cress”
This story was a finalist in Flash Fiction Chronicles’ 2014 String-o-Ten and, like many stories, it has a history. This meant very little at the time, beyond personal awe at the way the cosmic forces of gravity and the motion of the moon and planets become crystallised at the turning of a tide on a river. Finding a bunch of roses lodged in a shrub on the river bank where they would not be swept out to sea or blown away sparked the theme – a woman investing hope in those forces following a deep tragic loss. If magic exists … Continue reading ‘Here the Magic Must Be’ – dedicated to Shoreham
The truth, the half truth, or nothing like the truth? It depends, says the pseudonymous author, on whether you recognise yourself. But if you didn’t leave the gate open to cavorting cattle on a rural bridge, or become unsettlingly aroused at the sight of a Saab, you’re probably ok. You can find it on Amazon (UK and US) Barnes and Noble, and also eBay. Childishly grown up. Continue reading ‘Not Being First Fish – and other diary dramas’
I am a fraud because I don’t think I’ve actually written about dragons. Much of the time though, I’m not too far removed from the fantastically speculative sphere in which they might be found, and I do have several. They spend their observable time in static states – metal, ceramic and the like – transforming to wreak havoc at times only cats can see and who are mostly complicit in the resultant wreckage. Also, if it hadn’t been for the raining thread, I would have moved to Pern and got myself a flock of fire lizards. So I am accepting this award, … Continue reading Dragon Loyalty Award
‘Only Art is immortal,’ she says, her arms umber-stippled ribbons, lithe in the firelight. ‘Humans are not.’ The Collector – in Grievous Angel webzine. 489 words Continue reading ‘The Collector’
Albert’s teeth are opinionated, unlike Albert. All day they clack on about things for which Albert has no interest or that he considers they should keep to themselves. In LA Review of LA, issue nine, June 2015. 299 words #literary #noir Read by the author – listen here: Continue reading ‘Albert’s Teeth’
Dr Suzanne Conboy-Hill 