Short Stories

The Last Damn Peach

(Winner of the Ink Tears Short Story Competition)

Ninety-three-year-old Faye Zuckerman, who was a good time girl in the 1940s and 1950s when – hell – it took balls to swing, put on her blue, rhinestone bikini and started to make her way to the garden where the last peach was waiting in the branches of the only tree in the grounds. She opened the door to her room and stepped into the hallway, and heard the door click behind her. That same click she knew from the many hotels she had stayed in, partied in, got high in. Her key! Shit, she’d forgotten it, but it didn’t really matter. She’d ask one of the damn care assistants to open it. Most of the old people in there couldn’t remember when to take a piss, never mind remember their keys… Continue reading

Dog Days

(Published in the Momaya Annual Review)

Whenever he looked down, there it was with something else in its mouth – a shoe, a sock, some old papers. It was a hot listless day, the air in the room hardly moved, shafts of sunlight forced their way in through the half open curtains, while outside the pavements baked and people walked around with barely concealed irritation. Though he knew he should tie the dog up to punish it for stealing, he felt he had hardly enough energy to take the objects from its soft mouth and set them down next to the bed… Continue reading