The sparrow in the filing cabinet had been dead three days, maybe four. Marianne could tell by the way its feet had curled, the dim gloss still caught in its eye. She set down her cleaning kit and crouched, her… Continue Reading
I’m sprawled out on the couch, minding my own business, when I hear it. A light scratching sound. Coming from somewhere deep within the walls. I freeze in place as the suspicious noise pricks my ears. Scrrrrratch-scratch-scratch… Scritch-scratch… Others might… Continue Reading
I was enjoying a little drink in the Dog and Blanket in Nether Sodbury. “Hey, Scruples, I want a word with you.” I recognised John Donaldson. He frequented the Dog and Blanket and after a skinful, he would entertain them… Continue Reading
When I moved into the boarding house on Whitaker Street, I was told the room across the hall was empty. It wasn’t. Every night, I heard faint movement: drawers sliding, a chair scraping the floor, a cough. But every morning,… Continue Reading
The car door thumps dully behind me, an underwater sound far from my ears. With shaking hands, I fish the manila envelope from my pocket and hold up the first photo from the pile. I’m seeing double as the signs… Continue Reading
The ‘cage’, as Jambo Mine’s lift is referred to, judders to a halt midway up the mineshaft. Suspended from a single thick cable, it’s surrounded by utter darkness. The floor and the ceiling of the cage are two meters square,… Continue Reading
I like simple stories. Heroes who are always heroic. Villains who stay villains. People aren’t that way. You can be with people for decades; think you know them and then suddenly find out what you thought you saw wasn’t there.… Continue Reading
We were barely three months into the new year, and everything had changed. Bandit, our near-sighted tabby, had run away. And Dan — my brilliant husband — had broken his leg in five places trying to take down the Christmas… Continue Reading
The slamming fist is punctuated with a sharp, “No.” It might’ve been more impressive if the fistwielder hadn’t been a wisp of a woman, pale and reedy in stature. Her adversary chuckles, settling into the wide chair, hands clasping across… Continue Reading
A simple mix-up. Harry screwed up and he knew it. Once the scientists had worked out how to identify and extract memories, the techniques were rapidly commercialized by Mnemonics, Inc. His job as a technician there was simple enough, if… Continue Reading