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For my Dungeons and Dragons campaign I wrote a sea shanty to introduce a new character, when they entered into the Rusty Anchor Inn, a gentrified sailors pub due to the town becoming more mercantile. …

A bear statue made of silver, with a crown, sits alone in a grey backdrop staring at the viewer.

I, out of possible frustration, and an invigorated sense of being creative I started to respond to rejections (those that responded without a noreply@company.com email) with quickly drafted poems. It was my way or turning the event on its head, turning rejection into an opportunity to create. Raw and often…

Is the UK fairly represented, ever, in a system that disregards millions of votes.

The question that I analysed was, did your vote count? Prefacing this by saying this is not about who to vote for, which team to support, which captain to cheer or tactical voting. …

The sun rose again that day as it always had…

Those in political power within the great city were on fluttering tip-toes to spot any change in the citizens behaviour, after yesterday’s crowning. Many of the citizens had appeared to not be concerned about the rumours that were circulating, about…

It does seem like we are unable to attract the best and the brightest to our parliaments. People come into the job far estranged from the country and the international politics of the world, seem to luxuriously wander in and play out roles of a caretaker. …

Luff Farm was a small cottage just outside the village of Avon Lee, renovated from a farm hands house in the earlier century, it now was the home of Christine Penner. The outside of the house at this time of year was covered half in red ivy and the other…

A short, horrendous story that appeared when I tapped my suggested words for ages: which is supposed to display what I intend to write with some accuracy. It tends to get caught in loops though, here goes.

It begins

I have attached the invoice for your kind perusal as I am currently…

Darkness flickers, dodging the light of the flaming tower that beckons all and bathing everything in its light. The candle stroked the air gently in the room, and for a time, it was all that moved. It was dingy and full of books, leafs of sterile smelling paper and stacks…

The sunset was rhubarb coloured, the dark red setting sun on the rich green hued ocean that merged in the middle to some melting moments. Growing across one ocean and receding from here, the sugar which was stirred around the planet.



After the glaze set from the sun, everything began to…

“Can you do that though?” Haven said while sitting at the table.

“Yeah, you just smash then flip,” Gambee replied.

“Oh right, but that doesn’t mean I need to upgrade my talents does it?” questioned Haven.

“Yeah it does ya sprocket,” Gambee snapped, feeling penance for training Haven.

“Oy,” objected…

Stuart

A fictional short story writer. One-shot flash fictions to multi-part stories on slice of life, fantasy, drama and sci-fi. Some real life pieces and queries.

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