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Archive for the ‘Short Story’ Category

Sometimes a bright sunny morning just has more to it then those wonders. You get a feeling that something great  could happen, and that certainly seemed to be the case this morning. Only two days ago the call came through. Fr Macken couldn’t sleep, his days were all jittery and he tried to avoid telling anyone why he was so excited. Now the morning had come and he stood at the front door of the church, slowly swaying from side to side, not trying to be too obvious. He struggled so hard to try and conceal a smile and watched down the hill of the village as he saw them gradually make there way up the street.

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Five Months Ago:-

Blip……..blip……..blip, slowly, steady,

Beep Beep,

Blip……..blip……..blip, slowly, steady,

Beep Beep,

“Jess!!!”

She shook suddenly and half jumped from her chair.

“Are you ok?” asked Kate.

“I heard the horn again, just before it happened, he hit it hard, twice!” she kept shaking.

“I know” said Kate as she gently rubbed her shoulder.

Blip……..blip……..blip, the sound kept going, steady, slowly, that was good, mostly.

Jess looked towards the bed.

Tim’s face looked normal now, the bruising had passed, apart from one small bandage his head was clear, he just looked like he was sleeping. Sometimes she felt angry as she just wanted him to wake up. But it had been four weeks, and while he was looking well and seemed clear of danger, they were telling her not to expect too much.

She didn’t, well , yes, she did. Because with Tim, it had always been unexpected. The way they met, how their lives changed, the good fortune that came their way, there was no explaining, but it was wonderful and she held on to that as she watched him sleep.

Ten Months Ago:-

“My name is Tim, and I’m an idiot! Yeah!”

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There was a certain annoying buzz to that phone that kept nagging him. It was the same phone he always had, replacements and modernisation wasn’t exactly an easy achievment here. But this buzz annoyed him the most, cause he knew what it really meant. He glanced out the window. Not a bad view, even on a rainy day.

“Raymond,” came the frustrated whisper as the door had been opened slightly.

“He’s here. I’ve been calling you!”

Raymond turned toward the door.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see him now, I was just sorting a few things out.”

“Well you better sort him out quick, he’s worrying the others!”

Tam closed the door slowly and somewhat sympathetically.

He looked down at his desk, desk? In front of him was what someone considered a masterpiece, and someone else, a joke. He had worked in this business for three years now and while there had been awkward and uncomfortable moments, this had all the hallmarks of topping everything.

The phone started buzzing again. It was traditional that an author should always be ‘buzzed’ through and that had to be done right.

He reached over and slowly picked the phone up.

“Yes Tam, tell me that your son Toby managed to beat that fat bully cretin that keeps belly flopping in the pool on purpose, or some other brilliant and engaging whip about how Mike’s boss is too good-looking to be that, and sure there shouldn’t be women bosses anyway.”

“Em, not quite, I have Mr Crane here to see you,”

“Great! I was looking forward to him calling in.”

“I’ll send him straight through,” chirped Tam.

“Tam, just one thing, you didn’t do that retro speaker phone answer thing, did you?”

“Why yes Mr Raymond, I relish the opportunity to be made a fool in public. Thank you.”

He slowly placed the phone back on the receiver and waited. Damn, he thought, I’ll need her after this.

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Wow, the sky, blue with puffy balloons of white cloud look amazing when you’re lying on the ground looking up.

It’s an incredible site, and completely dismisses the pain.

I wish I’d done this more before I was on the ground easing my history in a red signature across the fresh early grass.

I suppose what was the biggest shock wasn’t being downed, it was how and by whom. I was always sharp, I knew exactly who was close and who was to be watched.

When I put the barrel right between the eyes of my so-called friend as he whimpered in a saliva’d attempt to say “I didn’t do it”, I didn’t blink as I squeezed, and that was that problem sorted. See, I always knew.

But it seems things change, and the older you get, well maybe.

I broke my own rules I suppose. Maybe age has that effect. But he was a young and somewhat reckless hood, and could have gone wrong at any time. I decided to guide him, help him in the ways of damnation. He learned well. He knew the time, he knew the place, he knew the words. Words I had taught him, words that signaled the end.

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Through His Eyes

When you can only look straight ahead, it’s probably desirable that the view is enjoyable and some what dynamic. A wall or a closed curtain has limited appeal. But of course that can really only be solved if people know that you can see and recognise what’s in front of you. Surely if they understood, they’d make sure you would have a different view every few hours.

Frankie looked forward to the arrival of Nurse Catherine. He had now worked out her schedule, within reason, and enjoyed waiting and finally seeing her, when she crossed in front of him of course. But there was something different about Nurse Catherine. She actually started talking to him as she entered the door in a cheerful and often matter of fact sort of way.

“Well Frankie, how are things today?” she might start as she moved into view across to pull the curtains.

“Watch those eyes now, it’s a bright and beautiful one out!”

The only thing disappointing about a fabulous morning like those one’s, was that it briefly blocked his view of her as the light streamed towards him and temporarily blinded him. (more…)

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Martin stood at the bedroom window staring out, his hands supporting him on the window sill. It was a glorious morning, the sun was heating his bare chest through the glass and making his eyes stay half-open. From here he could see the length of his medium size garden and the lower half of next door’s.

Next door, he thought. Mary and Joe. They were about the same age as them. They had arrived two years after Martin and Helen had bought their house. Nice couple, they hit it off straight away. Martin and Joe would go for a drink the odd time, a bit of golf, Mary and Helen would meet up probably every day for coffee and chats. Neither couple had children yet. Things had been great, Martin had a very good job in the IT world, and Joe had taken over his fathers construction company. There was a lot of money around, no limits.

Martin heard movement in the bed behind him, and then silence again. He remembered the parties and both couples had spoken about going on holidays, always the next year. But next year never came, or each made their own plans, probably just as well. The good days were great! (more…)

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“Have you seen it?” She shouted. “Well?” “Have you seen it. A disgrace. Well?”

Father Macken looked at her. “Sorry Mrs O’Reilly, seen what?”

“It’s a disgrace I tell you, shouldn’t be allowed. You should do something about it, I can’t believe it. How did you let that go on here?” she said as she took off at an unusually fast pace towards the coffee shop, timing her arrival as normal with the rest of the retired ladies in the area.

He stood a moment wondering what the issue was and then suddenly felt himself propelled forward, impacted by a man in a rush wearing a cap.

“Oh, sorry Father. Didn’t see you there! The bend’s not the best place to hang around, if you know what I mean?”

“Mr Flavin. Is everything alright?”

“Oh it is Father, I’m just a bit late, see, it’s 11, I should be there at 11.”

Father Macken watched as the normally somewhat arthritic Pa Flavin meandered his way up the hill and disappeared around the entrance to the church on towards the centre. It was a beautiful day, quiet and peaceful besides the two sudden interruptions he had had. To the right was the hill, to the left the way to the stream in the park. He was feeling lazy, and turned left.

There’s no great effort anywhere in the village, just not that big. This time of day people were working, sleeping, gossiping or doing nothing, which was probably the worst of them all. After getting his ass smacked by the powerfully sprung wooden gate to the park, he sat on the nearest bench and sighed, perfect. (more…)

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