Brothers

“Who’s out of bed? I fucking warned you.”

Dad’s voice crescendoed from the hallway as we sprung out of view on the landing, quick as adrenaline. The bedroom door swinging behind us, I shinned up the ladder to the top bunk while Jay dived under covers on the bottom. Dad took the stairs two at a time.

“Will you say it was you, Jay?” I pleaded. “He’ll kill me.” Continue reading “Brothers”

Half A Childhood

Thanks for all the feedback on Paulie. I made some changes and submitted this version for the anthology. I’ll learn if I made the cut by the end of July.

Half A Childhood


8

At last, Dad came home from the hospital, while Jay, Catherine and I were at school. That evening we were each allowed a few minutes in his room. I, being eight and eldest, went up first.

Purple.

A face turned purple.

Mottled and bubbled and lumpen. One eye closed like a boxer’s.

An ogre, a brute, a fairytale monster.

Underneath was my Dad.

Still strong, with hard hands and black, wavy hair.

He sat up in bed, beneath the bobbly green blanket, toenails curling black, peeping out. I felt secure as he pulled me onto his knee. Continue reading “Half A Childhood”

Paulie

I’m entering the text below for publication in a City Lit anthology of creative writing, maximum length 1500 words. This is a second draft of shorter pieces I’ve shared before, and I need your help to improve it further before submitting. Please leave feedback in the comments. Third and final draft (for now) here.

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William kept his shoes on as Kerry walked barefoot on the beach. She, in a tie-dyed oil-spill dress, showing off slender legs. He, somehow pulling off handsome with a fag constantly on the go. Continue reading “Paulie”