“They don’t like to… restrict… his enthusiasm and creativity.” Lesley’s friend, Janet, raised a brow. “So he’s an undisciplined, spoiled brat.” Lesley focused on her coffee. “Yes. And they won’t do anything, even when people say things.” “What about his school?” “Natalie’s homeschooling him. She says the education system is a relic of the industrial …
Rebecca watched the raindrops chase each other down the giant wall of glass facing her desk. It was a glorious view on sunny days, but on ones like this, when the clouds came low and the rain looked like it was ready for a re-do of the forty days and forty nights flood story, it …
“But he never leaves his room, other than for meals and to go to school, it’s just not healthy. He’s a growing boy, he needs to get outside, run about, get muddy with other boys.” “Does he look unhealthy to you?” “Well, no, but…” “Have you ever actually been into his room?” “Certainly not, I …
I had things to do today, nothing earth shattering, just the weekly security report from Sir Scatterscurry, and jam-making. Of course I didn’t need a mouse with a sword and an over-developed sense of chivalry guarding my home, but his primary domain was the potting shed, and he did a lovely job of keeping my …
“Dad, Dad, Dad! What’s brown and sticky?” Damian wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. “I don’t know, what?” “A stick!” Emily flopped into the armchair, giggling at her own joke. That actually a pretty good one, definitely better than yesterday’s. He chuckled. “Nice, I’ll have to remember that, tell the guys at work.” …
It was all well and good to have a home up the hill. The views were lovely and there was none of the worry about flooding the valley people had, but did the damn hill have to be so steep? Justine re-gripped the shopping bags and kept going. “Alright then?” Ergh, not young Marcus McShea. …
An exercise from Ursula Le Guin’s Steering the Craft book – write one piece with sentences of seven or fewer words, then one that's all one sentence... Exercise 3a – Short Octavia hung back, scared. She didn’t want to go in there. It was dangerous, everyone said so. Why did Roz have to dare them? …
It had taken a week of solid work – every evening after dinner – but it was finally done. It was beautiful. A proper display cupboard for the Collectors’ Edition dolls she’d been buying for years. She’d already had the cupboard, a lovely glass-fronted antique. It had just needed some decoration, to put each of …
The leaves on the palm trees outside his hotel window waved mockingly on the afternoon breeze. ‘Here you are in paradise’ they seemed to say, ‘but all you can do is pace about your too-large-for-one hotel room, talk on your phone, and tap on your computer.’ And the room was too large for one person, …
It was a quiet morning until the call from Jason Bandswitch, the Manor was in uproar. Lady Charlotte had disappeared. He was waiting outside for me as I made it to the end of the drive (newly gravelled thankfully, the rain’s been back in force, and the previous surface was a mud pit), his face …
The DNA of Stories 