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by Beryl G. Armistead
Beth grinned at Roland. “You haven’t mentioned Peter for about two weeks,” she said, “have you finally tamed him?” High spirits and excess energy were often in evidence among their choir members, but Peter was often a real problem. With the others it was controllable mischief; with him it was more likely to be deliberate defiance.
The Legend of St Bede's Chairby Noel Maw
Christine didn’t like churches; years ago she had told her Mum, “They depress me. The emptiness, the cold and the air of gloom.” She avoided them whenever she could. But there was something about St Paul’s that she had never experienced before.
The Weddingby Ray Groves
It was the middle of the night when he quietly slipped out of the inn, walking quickly and as quietly as possible. He left the lights of the town behind and became engulfed by the wild night.
by Tom Lacey
Having reached the age of 79, perhaps you should be considering giving up your car, and using your free pensioner bus pass. I know you have loved driving for the past 55 years, and you are still fit enough to do so.
Bail Outby Noel Maw
The Ouseburn is a dismal tidal tributary of the River Tyne. In the thirties, before the clean up, it was even filthier than the Tyne itself, as brown, scummy water surged in twice a day. It winds its way northwards until it swoops under the arches of the Byker Railway Bridge which, in those days, was smoke-blackened with fronds of hanging soot.
Miss Minorby Heather Wright
Alice Minor lived round the corner from me when I was a little girl. Her garden backed on to the side of ours, while her house (a constant mystery to us all) fronted onto the main road. So there were two places where I might see her and also be observed by her eagle eye.
The Parable of the Bottleby Noel Maw
A brilliant rose glow appeared in the sky over Nottingham way. It only lasted for about half a minute but it caused plenty of speculation. The favourite theory was light reflection from sodium lamps; another suggested an explosion at the gas terminals further east. But it was none of these.
by Myra Poyser
Holding the cat brush in her hand and pulling out the remains of the black hairs, Trudie absentmindedly gazed through the glass patio door and suddenly became aware of being watched.
by Ray Groves
The Dream Catcher stood on a hill, overlooking the small town and winced. The night sky above the houses shimmered with evil spirits hurling their dark dreams into the bedrooms below.
by Olwen O'Dowd
You came into the family in May 1967, a bonny baby with a lovely smile. In May 2006 your personality altered you became surly and uncooperative.
by Ray Groves
A cold breeze made her shiver and lifted the soft wide brim of her hat. He could see that her eyes were red from crying.
by Phil Raper
The summer breeze twirled the dust into little devils as I got off the bus. It was a glorious day. A day when you were glad to be alive. Only, she wasn't.
by Eddie Shirkie
Inspired by a photograph of the Holocaust.
by Ralph Diaper
Considering the fortunes of war we both wondered if and when we would meet again. Ken's last words to me, as the train pulled away from the platform, were, "See you in Poona".
