Fear encapsulated him, stone cold and sweat inducing. He felt it in his gut, his heart hammered in his chest, his eyesight blurred, he felt nauseous, his breathing was too fast, and he could control none of it. He knew running was futile, hiding even more so, they would take years to complete the hunt…
Category: Misanthrope
A heart broken by death
Agnes had been strolling door to residential door, handing out cheaply produced leaflets to everyone she encountered willing enough, polite enough, to lighten her load. Few were interested in the spiel that went with it, but at least they had something to enlighten them as to the injustice of society and a government precluding women…
Christmas within the sleek grey messenger of death.
The Sailor’s Christmas T’was the night before Christmas, the ship was out steaming, Sailors stood watch while others were dreaming. They lived in a crowd with racks tight and small, In a 60-man mess, cramped one and all. … I had come down the stack with presents to give, And to see inside just who…
Australasian Horror Writers Association – Update
Hello all, A brief update. I am passing this message on as a member only. Due to internal technicalities, the AHWA website has been taken down by the web host. A temporary site has been created here -> https://australasianhorror.wordpress.com/ For all questions specific to the AHWA, please follow the above link. …
I was a teenage twelve year old!
Hey hey groovers and shakers! I’m on the road for roughly the next fortnight, so, I’ll catch you on the flipside. Now, just for the fun of it, symbolic of my impeding time away, a wee drinking song, courtesy of DAAS! Broad Lic Nic! Woohoo! It’s a broad lic nic And…
The End; again.
Beauty and time tread the same path; as neither, cannot, will not, stand still. 12 miles west of Williams, Western Australia, late spring, 1872. An evening full of deadening light, mosquitoes, and children covered in dirt and play induced scratches swarm around Maggie. Through happiness and laughter they cling to her skirts…
The end.
Death sighed sadly to herself, she exited her battered old VW beetle. Secateurs in hand, she strolled through Maggie’s ward unseen by all. Mr. D’arcy trotted at her heel, a large doggy smile on his face. Maggies ethereal form stood beside the corpse of Maggie Trout. Wild and terrified was her expression; her…
My love speaks like silence – 6
Sitting, talking with the ladies over a lunch of green and potato salad, plus cold chicken, Pam, for the first time in longer than she could recall, found herself having fun. She was able to talk about absolutely nothing with an eclectic collection of well-educated women, who all, by appearance at least were in the…
My love speaks like silence – 5
Doctor Miui was not happy with Maude’s progress. She had started Maude on a series of antidepressants, diazepines, and low dose antipsychotics to aid her in her sleep. But, the effects of the antidepressants would take a while to work, and until they did, she wandered around as if she was in a…
My love speaks like silence – 4
Maude’s depression got progressively worse over the short space of a couple of weeks. She had told her psychologist that she felt as if one of her legs had been torn off below the knee, when compared to the grief the loss of Brooke had caused her. Keith had been taking her to…
My love speaks like silence – 3
Truly horrible were the days, weeks and months that followed Brooke’s death. Everywhere Keith looked, be it at home, a shopping centre, even Albany on an escape from Perth, something reminded him of Brooke. He would catch himself out thinking things along the lines of ‘I must tell Brooke that.’ or ‘I’ll pick up…
My love speaks like silence – 2
“Fuck me this is wrong.” Keith thought to himself looking at the casket at the bottom of the open grave. “How the fuck does this happen? My beautiful little girl gone before me. Fuck me!” Maude leaned against him unhearing, sobbing inconsolably. Three hundred or more people had shown up to Brooke’s…
My love speaks like silence – 1
With exception to an extreme minority, the greatest fear of any parent is to out live one of their children. Of the many injustices in life, it is said to be the most soul-destroying and the very worst affliction that can be thrust upon anyone with children. Burying Brooke had its difficulties. Keith…
The Inaccurate Context Of Life – 4
Maggie was confused. She acknowledge that she was in a semi seated position upon her hospital bed, but the sensation it gave her was something of a detached reality. Her nightie and bed clothes felt strange against her skin, the lighting of hospital room she languished in seemed far too bright. It was too…
Introversion, love, hate, and the blemishes of life.
Hey hey World! As of tomorrow, I am removing my blog spaces from public view. Life has rolled the dice in favour of fate rather than luck, and as such, I am pulling on the personal invisibility cloak of self. So, whilst Maggie Trout, Bast, Death, and those other pots on the…
The Inaccurate Context Of Life – 3
Mrs. Trout began to read, the sonorous yet dulcet timbre of her voice filled every corner of Maggie’s room. Maggie opened her eyes expecting to find the room around her. With a gasp, she found herself 100 odd miles from anywhere, on a track that appeared unused since the last rains four months…
The Inaccurate Context of Life – 2
“Hmmmmm…………….” murmured Death in the vague direction of Mr. D’arcy, “it would seem that Maggie is more focussed on the stories than she is on focussing on her recovery. I hadn’t expected this, bloody book. Oh well, the course must be run, and if she succeeds within herself, she will go onto greatness beyond…
The inaccurate context of life – 1
Mrs. Trout, with grey shot red hair tied up in a loose pony tail, resplendent in a white blouse, khaki calf leg trousers and Birkenstock slip on’s, took Maggie’s silence and general lack of movement as that of well deserved sleep. Quietly closing the book, she stood, leant over her daughter, and gave her…
Waking Nightmare – 5
Maggie pondered. Over the weeks come months, Maggie had become an ‘A’ grade ponderer. If Bruce Springsteen had of released the album ‘Born to Ponder’ instead of ‘Born to Run’, she would have been the only thing on the record sleeve. Lying prostrate upon her hospital bed, Maggie waded through her mind and…
Waking Nightmare – 4.10 – Maggie Trout update
Hey there World, A quick update on Maggie Trout, as I have just returned from visiting her in hospital. As far the doctor’s are concerned she is making a good recovery, and Anton the clinical psych. feels her peace of mind is improving. The only person that is showing more concern than usual…
therebemonstershere.com 