Tag: Books

Phil is walking back along the main road, toward Leah’s house. He decides to go through the back lane and enter her garden. A short hop over the wooden fence and he is there. As he approaches the back door of the house he can see her stirring something in the frying pan. She is glancing occasionally at the front door, no doubt expecting Rob to arrive at any minute.

He watches her for a few more minutes and he can see that she is beginning to get concerned. He decides that there is no more point in waiting, she will be his now, and then they can both be happy together. But not just them, it will take three to be complete, the lady of the forest is awaiting them.

Continue reading “Tracks, a short story: The End” →

He doesn’t deserve her, she belongs to me. How could she think he is better than me?” He thinks.

He is walking along the main road that leads to their street, looking determined, angry, and scary. People who see him go across to the other side of the road. One young man, who doesn’t want to appear intimidated, makes the mistake of attempting a game of chicken. Phil sees him coming towards him, lowers his shoulder and charges. The young man falls to the ground.

“Watch where you are going asshole!” screams Phil.

Continue reading “Tracks, a short story: Part 18” →

I am back in the damp and the dark. The difference this time is that I can move, and I am happy. It feels like I am home. The love I have been looking for my whole life is here, it is pouring through my body. Every self-help book that I have ever read has told me different ways of how to get to that place, but I have somehow found it on my own, by accident.

“Welcome, Phil.”

Continue reading “Tracks, a short story: Part 17” →

I can feel the pull. I am aware of where I am but have no control over my movements. One step after another I keep moving forward, seemingly unable to stop. All I can see are trees, straight trunks rising all around me. The snow is sparse here, although when I brush against a tree I sometimes get a small deposit on my head.

After I have seemingly been walking forever I come to a clearing. The snow is thicker here, although there seems to be a mound of grass in the centre which is green and almost flowing with life. 

Once my eyes focus on the grass the pull becomes even stronger and now I am almost running towards the rising. Once I am there I come to a sliding halt, as if it is surrounded by a force field. But the urge is now in my heart, I want to touch that lush green. But my feet are locked in place.

Continue reading “Tracks, a short story: Part 16” →