Category: Stories
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Scissors Paper Nuke
“Scissors Paper Rock.” “Scissors Paper Rock.” “Scissors Paper Rock.” Three boys playing the game of ancient ages rouse me from my rail induced reverie. Obviously brothers. The youngest is short, brown hair and eyes that observe more than he sees. The middle is blonde, curly-haired. His blue eyes dance with laughter at any excuse. The…
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Extenuating Circumstances
“I need you to divorce me,” she said. As soon as I saw her I knew she was right. I needed me to divorce her. Although in truth I there could be no thought of remarriage. Not even a Reno remarriage. Even if Nevada was well over a day’s flying away. The crushing humidity set…
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The Last Child
“He’s never done anything like this before.” “What?” Alex mouthed. Caroline held up one hand. Principal, her husband heard her in his head. “Thank you for telling us,” she continued,”we’ll take care of it.” Take care of what? You’re not telling me everything, he thought at her. She pressed the red icon. She looked up…
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The Curious Case of the Endless Linen
We would arrive at the same time. Opening time. 7:30am. I’d see him standing at the door, five or six laundry bags at his feet. A small wizened man, the classic caretaker from central casting. Behind the double glass doors, I saw the proprietor waiting. A grey man worn down by time and with little time…
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Breathe For Me
Breathe for me.Watching you sip each breath, I want to breathe for you. I want to inhale oxygen, pass it from my lungs to yours. And from there into that heart I love so much. You hold my hand. I hold yours. You must hear my words for you. Wait and hope. You were to grow…
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Circus Trainer
I needed the whip and chair today. It was that bad. It started quietly enough. Customer Service 101 : benign and boring. A course with the best beginning ever: no trainees when I arrived. Which was perfect. I hadn’t had my coffee anyway. I needed that thirty minutes. I unlocked the classroom, turned on the…
Andrew Whalan
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The Prayer Book
“Is this yours?” Five fingers first appeared. Next a hand. Holding what? A notebook? A leather-bound notebook? Perhaps it’s a small purse? Or perhaps a pocketbook? A prayer book. I leaned across my luggage trolley for a closer look. The Way of the Pilgrim: A Devotional Journey. I read. Oh no. “Is that yours?” the finder repeated. A waif.…
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A Little More Gaslight #2
“Come in.” A swirl of a red dress. Capped off by a pair of red shoes. The owner has her face hidden in her hair. She won’t even make eye contact. An ominous portent indeed. A thud as she falls into the armchair opposite. “I wish…” Deep breath. “I wish…to report a case of sexual…
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A Little More Gaslight #1
“Come in.” The last one, he thinks. But at least we’re getting the numbers down. And the iron laws of arithmetic don’t apply. A pair of red shoes enter. The owner strides in, pulls out a leather armchair, scrapes it along the carpet. She sits down and crosses her legs. Without any preamble, she begins.”I’m…
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Remorse
My entry in the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction competition. Genre: Ghost Story, Setting: Waterfall, Object: A Salt Shaker.
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Room Escapee
My amended entry for the https://www.writerscentre.com.au/furious-fiction/ competition. <a href="”> Read More…
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Window Queen
My entry in the NYC Midnight Short Story competition…A romantic comedy set in a charitable organisation featuring a window cleaner….
Andrew James Whalan 