Another jolt resonates from the creaking axle and wakes me from a light slumber. It’s hot in the back of the lorry; hot and airless, but at least I know we are on the final leg of our journey. …
‘So, what seems to be the problem, Joe?’
‘I have this recurring dream about killing Doug.’
‘Doug?’
‘He’s my neighbor.’`
‘I see.’
‘I dream about killing him and burying him under the floorboards of my dining room.’
Dr Harrison …
Finished my life story. Got to the end and cried.
Henry Bladon is a writer of short fiction and poetry based in Somerset in the UK. He has degrees in psychology and mental health policy and a PhD in literature …
Flushed, she breathes.
Expectant, she waits.
Morning: uncertain future ahead.
Henry Bladon is a writer of short fiction and poetry based in Somerset in the UK. He has degrees in psychology and mental health policy and a PhD in literature …
It’s funny how one thing leads to another. I was cruising along, enjoying the open road, the Harley was purring and the fresh air on my face reminded me of how much I like the outdoors. Connecting with nature is …
Justin yawned. He edged his way down the stairs in his bare feet as he had done every morning for two months, careful to avoid the creaky tread just before the end. He held the tray of food in …
He need not have worried. He died before she did.
Henry Bladon lives in Somerset in the UK and writes all types of fiction. He has a PhD in creative writing and runs a writing support group for people with …
The breezy cliff top walk came to a sudden end.
Henry Bladon lives in Somerset in the UK and writes all types of fiction. He has a PhD in creative writing and runs a writing support group for people with …