Keep Your Nose Out
Old man Jarrad used to take out his eye, suck it and stick it back in its socket–just like that–in the middle of a conversation–anything. He didn’t care, so us kids naturally hung around down by his...
View ArticleThe Whole Picture
Dave didn’t know where he was or how he got there. Maybe he’d had an accident. He didn’t feel any pain, though he couldn’t move. Someone was in the room with him. Looked like a surgeon. “I’m Dave.”...
View ArticleThe Eye Specialist
The sign simply says: “Eye Specialist.” Inside the décor is all eyes and the staff very attentive. “Please, take a seat.” We sat on a giant, squidgy eyeball each, at a round table decorated with...
View ArticleWaiting
I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Wish I hadn’t. Dawes didn’t. I’m not saying he was lucky; course not. He was dead, poor chap. But he was spared the horror of it; in a strange sort of way, whereas I…...
View ArticleLast of the Mistletoe
I started gardening as a lad at Mistle Manor. In December, as a matter of fact, and it was old Santa himself, the gaffer, showed me the ropes. Gathering holly and mistletoe to sell at the local...
View ArticleLittle Human Voices
Coalface was haunted by sounds—sounds of the past. Wood talks. It creaks and whispers and moans. Water talks. It bubbles and trickles and runs. Air gushes through empty tunnels. Wind whistles down dark...
View ArticleChasing Ghosts is What We Do
“There’s nothing there.” “There has to be.” “There’s nothing.” “Well, there was something. I heard it. You heard it. How can anything that loud, for that kind of duration, be nothing?” “Well, it seems...
View ArticleJust Doing Her Job
I hurried along to the nursery wing at the end of the long corridor in the cottage hospital, answering the sound of a baby crying. Just as I got to the door, the baby stopped. I checked all the cots....
View ArticleSomething About the Ice
I was playing kick-around with my two best pals, Alan and Gino, that day. “What is that?” said Alan, pointing. We stopped our game and looked towards the lake, which was only a couple of hundred yards...
View ArticleLevitating Lady
Author’s note: Dedicated to John Ritchie Gran’s house was a pretty cottage on the edge of town, surrounded by greenery and cows, practically in the countryside. It always smelled of baking bread and...
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