I am still waiting for the Muse, I think that the spring must be interfering somewhere along the line and so I thought that I would cheat a bit.
These are the first couple of paragraphs from a pair of shorts, I am sure that the wonderful site team at Shortbread won’t mind if I post them here. If they grab you click the link and you can read the rest without joining the site. Mind you it’s easy to join and there are hundreds and hundreds of stories there, you need never buy a book again!!! that’s if you like short stories of course.
Today I know this face. I stare into the mirror and I know this face. It is me but not the me that it was when we bought my mirror all those years ago. Down in the antique market, Martin and I trawling for treasures to make our home and we found it dusty and forlorn, how pleased we were. No it doesn’t show me that person, but it is the me of now and of just yesterday.
It has known me long years this mirror, it has seen me pregnant and it has seen me proud bringing my new baby into the house. It saw a young mother tearful at the first schooldays. It has seen me when I worried at unexpected latenessess and teenage tantrums. It watched as I dragged myself shocked and numb in my new black hat, with reddened eyes awash with tears as I said goodbye to Martin.
Read more: Short Story: This Face | Shortbread
They call him Stumpy. Not his mum, she calls him by his real name, Ryan, but the others call him Stumpy. Nobody remembers where the name came from. It’s not as if he’s particularly short and he has all his limbs intact. The name seems to have grown around him and there it is.
His limbs are intact but his mind, well his mind is a different thing. If the kids who teased him had possessed a modicum of intelligence it could have been that they realised his brain is stumped but that’s probably a bridge too far for them.
Read more: Short Story: Halflife | Shortbread