Amber gave one last, wary look behind her before she slipped into the staff toilet. She never failed to be amazed by how much cleaner they were than those the students had to use. She couldn’t tell if the teachers were lucky enough to have their bathrooms cleaned daily, or if her fellow pupils were just scummy bastards. It was probably the latter. Continue reading “Waterworks”
“I’m not going to write today. I don’t feel like it. I’m not in the mood, and I can never write anything good if I’m not in the mood. I think I have writer’s block. There’s no point forcing it. I will just wait until inspiration hits me.”
Sound familiar? This drivel used to come out of my mouth at least once or twice a week. Sometimes it would occur every day for a fortnight. And then I created a schedule for writing short stories and everything changed. I learned the trick of forcing my creativity. Continue reading “Ignoring Writer’s Block & Forcing Creativity”
There’s only half an hour left of the graveyard shift, and I’m flagging. It’s not exhaustion caused by excessive work, but rather exhaustion from lack of work. The graveyard shift does little to stimulate the mind, and when the mind shuts down the body goes with it.
Not a single guest has checked in during my five hours behind the desk. A couple stumbled through the door earlier – one at 1:13am and another at 1:32 – but they were simply returning to their rooms after a night on the town. Both swayed from side to side as they walked and had rosy cheeks and dumb grins. Boozing businessmen – that’s who I usually face during graveyard shifts. But that’s fine by me; they tend to greet me with a goofy smile and head straight for the lift, eager to get to the safety of their bedroom where they can close their eyes and stop the world from spinning. Continue reading “The Graveyard Shift”
- Keep a backpack underneath your bed so that you’re always ready to run. Fill it with the essentials:
- Water bottle
- Pain killers
- Small, compact snacks (anything except biscuits)
- Map of UK
- Something stabby
“Felines and canines, rodents and birds, please welcome your 2017 international presidential candidates, Rex and Pusskin.”
Howls and screeches and squawks went up from the crowd as the candidates made their appearance on stage. Pusskin sashayed towards her podium, eyes narrow, tail swishing gently from left to right to showcase her cool, calm composure. Rex was her polar opposite; he bounded across the stage and back again, tail wagging furiously, tongue lolling from his mouth as he let the crowd absorb his enthusiasm.
Continue reading “The Debate”
“You’re the only one who will not judge me when I tell you this story.”
“Oo, now I’m intrigued. Does it have anything to do with the date you went on last night?”
“Yep.” Faye bit her lip and wondered whether sharing the tale would do her any favours. But she’d already mentioned it now; if she didn’t spill all, Dan would only pester her and pester her until she cracked. Continue reading “The Vampire”
This month I finally finished the mammoth task of redecorating my living room, a chore which had been ongoing since… well, so far in the past that I can’t even remember when we started. July? June, maybe? A fireplace was removed, ceilings were plastered, walls were painted multiple times, a new floor was laid, doors were hacked down, light fittings were replaced and many frustrated tears were shed. Continue reading “October Reads”
“Floor 3 today?”
RAPL’s receptionist looked up into Claire’s face with the same look that she would give had she stepped in something brown and noxious. Claire was different today. Her meek, mouse-like appearance had given way to self-confidence. Her chin was raised, and there was not a hint of a stutter in her voice. And that didn’t do at all. Continue reading “The Intern: Part 4”
It would be a dog. It had to be. I’d always been a dog person, and dogs loved me. Whenever I took a walk through the park they flocked to me, tales wagging, mouths wide and smiley, desperate for me to throw them a stick or a ball or give them a tickle behind the ear. I’d never come across a dog I didn’t like, or who didn’t like me. I was 99.9% sure I was going to matched with a dog. Continue reading “I’m a Dog Person”
RAPL’s receptionist looked up with her eyebrows raised expectantly.
“Um. I’m Claire. The Intern?”
“I know,” the receptionist said coldly.
Claire nodded. “Just wondering where I need to be today.”
“Floor two. Take the lift. Ask for Leslie.” Continue reading “The Intern: Part 3”