Ashera looked over at her husband. Oh, for goodness sake I wish he’d cut his hair and beard. It doesn’t suit him and he looks messy. What is he trying to prove? Is he trying to look younger…or eternal even? He looked across at her and said ‘What?’ ‘Can you cut your beard and hair please?’ ‘No people like it like that. It’s what they expect.’ ‘Shouldn’t you be wanting to maybe do what I like for once?’ He stared at her, not understanding. It wasn’t about her. It was

He looked out over the vibrant green fields and as far as he could see there was bright green wheat, not yet ready for harvest but swaying gently in the breeze. It was mesmerising. Small hills and valleys covered in wheat. It was relaxing. Calming. Quickly the sky started to darken. Low clouds of dark grey. So low they looked like they were touching the wheat tops. His wife Diana brought him a cup of hot steaming tea in a delicate Royal Albert cup and saucer. It was left

‘Oooo there’s a pot belly stove!’ ‘Oooo how cool.’ They both jumped around in excitement. ‘Let’s get it on. It’s freezing here’, said Frannie. ‘Ok’ said Hanna opening the stove’s little door with the confidence of someone who’s an old hand at this. ‘Right so we put the wood in.’ ‘No, it’s called timber. Wood is on trees.’ ‘Oh ok.’ Their exuberance was a plenty. They selected twigs and logs and newspaper. Stuffed it in without too much care or experience and set it ablaze. The

T’is the season to be jolly and for George and his other tree dwellers. He usually looked forward to this time, but quite frankly, they had started their cultish ways again and were raising their eyes skyward, in the hope of a blood moon. All he wanted to do was to get nice and fat…and yellow…and juicy. It’s lemon season! Hurrah! George saw this as an opportunity to cull some of the cult…no, no he meant the crop. Could lemons get more ridiculous in their beliefs. All he wante

‘I’m sorry for not doing everything you asked when you asked it. I’m sorry I didn’t put the car in the garage exactly how you wanted it, even though it was exactly where you put it last time. I’m sorry I don’t calculate numbers in the exact method that you do, even though we still come to the same result. I’m sorry I don’t dress up better when we go out even though you wear the most ridiculous and inappropriate old clothes. I’m sorry I don’t agree with the same things as you,

‘Jono, it’s me.’ ‘Yeah, what d’ja want?’ ‘Well, you know how you said you could return a favour to me for helping you do better and getting 43% in your English essay?’ ‘Yeah. Mum was really pleased with that,’ Jono said proudly. ‘Yeah, well I need you to get something for me.’ ‘Yeah, what?’ ‘Well, you see there’s this girl I really, really like and I know I can talk to her ok, but I don’t really know how to get her into bed.’ ‘Yeah right, so?’ ‘Well, I was think

‘Stand up! Sit down.’ ‘Make up your bloody mind’. Cassie sat down. ‘Come over here.’ ‘Oh for God’s sake what now’. Cassie moved over to the window. ‘What? What is it? I can’t see anything.’ I wish he’d bloody well explain himself better. ‘Now come and look at this.’ ‘You have to be f&%*ing kidding me. Yes what?’ Cassie got off the lounge and strolled over. ‘Again I can’t see a thing, you moron,’ she stated the obvious. But he was oblivious to her insults. This wen

The crows were sitting in their usual tree. Ah Ahhhing as usual. It was a usual day. There were normally three crows but today there were only two. I wonder what they are thinking, I thought to myself, as I sipped my cup of Earl Grey, sans milk, sans sugar. I am a purist after all. I wonder if birds can be purists? I mean will some of them only ever eat a particular type of seed they won't add other seeds to it…or milk or sugar I suspect. They seem to be chatting to each othe

It was a boiling hot day, and Doug decided to nick down to Isabell’s for a swim. He wasn’t really worried about seeing her, he just needed her pool. When he arrived, Isabell was already in the pool. She had a few of her friends from the group there and everyone was relaxed and chilling out. There was an ever so slight moan from them when he pushed the gate open, but he didn’t notice. He nodded to them all. He looked her up and down as he dived in, she had an athletic body

The mist crept into the valley. But not like it usually did. A young woman was sitting in her favourite tree house, looking out down the valley, into the gorge and across the escarpment. She usually felt like she was in the clouds, but not today. The mist was there. It usually felt ethereal, and she usually felt like she had summoned it, and that she was the Enchanter. But not today. Today it was a dark green mist and that wasn’t normal she thought to herself. Parts of th

I’m bored. I’m bored. Ohhhh. What can I do now? I’m so bored I could mow the lawns. No I could clean the bins out. No. I could go through my mail. No. God, what can I do? I’ve got so much that I could be doing, but none of it really inspires me. Ooo. I could write a story. Nah. Bloody hell, I’m just so bored. Oh my god...I have some chocolate slice in the fridge. I could eat that. Yayyyy! How could I be so forgetful?

It was by way of return that I stumbled on my old school enemy at the train station. I had been travelling and working for 10yrs. It was time to come home and settle in to running my parent’s cattle station. They had been so kind to allow me the freedom to have a life of my own and now that they were getting on I wanted to be there for them. They had never implied that I had to run the station but I wanted to do it and do it well. There she was Karen What’s Her Name. I coul

I decided to switch my style and write nice happy pieces. I thought about kittens and puppies and sunshine and roses. They just didn’t do it for me. That’s not to say I don’t like them…I just couldn’t get inspired. Hmmmm. Hmmmm some more. Difficult. I thought about the old lady who lived next door. Maybe I’ll get some inspiration. I didn’t know much about her and hardly saw her. I decided to find out more, but it wasn’t the sort of thing you look up on LinkedIn…well I

‘What the fuck.’ ‘What?’ ‘Every time.’ ‘What?’ ‘This fucking coffee is cold.’ ‘Oh dear.’ ‘I'm going to tell them.’ ‘Ohhhh.’ ‘Excuse me girly.’ ‘Oh no.’ ‘Yes.’ says the eighteen-year-old, astounded at the address. ‘My fucking coffee is cold AGAIN,’ says my 89 year old mother. To say the girlie was astounded is an understatement. ‘Go to get the manager!’ With this girlie slinks off and talks to the manager. A very well dressed lady strides over, jaw set, looking more like she h

‘You’re with Daddy today at work?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘How are you enjoying it?’ ‘Very well thank you.’ ‘Oh, what beautiful manners. Who’s your favourite, Daddy or Mummy?’ ‘Daddy today but Mummy tomorrow.’ She always liked to be fair and not have just one favourite. ‘Oh, how sweet. What do you want to be when you grow up Kiki?’ ‘An architect’, Kiki said casually. ‘Wow, ok that will be terrific.’ She smiled and nodded at the man. ‘Can I play in the sand please Daddy?’ ‘Y

‘QUICK! Get the Pepper spray!’ ‘What? Why?’ ‘It’s that kid from down the street.’ ‘WHAT? You can’t use Pepper spray on a child. ‘Yes you can.’ ‘NO YOU CAN’T!’ ‘Ah yes you can. It says so on the tin?’ ‘Where?’ ‘THERE! Are you blind Mr Bull?’ ‘MISS RABBIT, just because the kids name is Peppa, doesn’t mean you can use Pepper Spray on her. Now put it away!’ ‘Oh.’

The members gathered for the Annual General Meeting. Bored faces stared around the room. Scared faces looked down at their phone, by way of avoiding any eye contact which might lead to a role on the Board. Least seen the better. The overzealous Secretary started the meeting. Was this protocol? Who knew, and quite frankly, who cared. Nobody. At a very high decibel the meeting started, time taken, apologies given and minutes read. Boring. The Secretary started on about the

How much will humanity develop over the coming eons? How much has it really developed over the past eons? Have we developed because our brains have become smarter or because we invent one small thing and we think of another small thing to add to it, then another, then another. We get better with every small step. Every small change to a material gives us another chance to make something new and better. Every accident, creates an opportunity. Sometimes, a human who thought, ‘H

‘I'm innocent,’ said little Timmy. ‘I don't think so’, said the teacher. ‘Yep it wasn't me’. ‘Wasn't you who did what?’ 'Stole the money out of your draw and pulled Jemma's hair’. ‘Look you little drop kick, it's time to own up to your bad behaviour.’ ‘But I don't have bad behaviour.’ ‘Ha! are you joking? But you're right it's not bad it's abysmal!’ The other five-year-olds looked on in amazement and stunned silence. ‘Look Timmy Johnson that money was mine.' ‘Mine too.' ‘No i

They arrived as if by magic. My relatives. The scroungers. Always on the prowl for a handout. Oh my god, I can’t stand them. Look at them. My mother, lives with her rich sugar daddy…who incidentally didn’t end up being so rich, and not only used up any money she had left, but then had to sell his fancy house, car and boat to pay his debts. So now they both live hand to mouth, but with an aristocratic lifestyle and expecting me to pay for everything. Here they come up the