Talking

Why do you blog?

I guess that I started blogging as a way of sharing my thoughts. It wasn’t that I wanted to share with the whole world, a few readers would do.

I could just write in a journal but then I wouldn’t get the sense of community which blogging gives me. That was something which I did not anticipate and came as a very pleasant surprise.

Any feedback comes as a very welcome surprise and in this environment is generally a very positive one. If anyone can get any pleasure out at what I have written then I am more then content.

Tracks, a short story: The End

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”

Tracks, a short story: Part 18

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”

Tracks, a short story: Part 17

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”