Short Story – Blogs Don't Burn

February 9, 2020March 2, 2021

Short Story: ‘A Dance of Two’

An adaption of Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett’s first meeting in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice

Mr Bingley: Once again I am blown away by the wonderous joys that life can bestow when one revels in good company! Every young lady and noble man I have met this evening has surpassed my wildest expectations in beauty, good humour and learning! I must control the urge to let excitement overtake my refined demeanour, yet dancing remains a superb outlet to express such passionate good mood! If only Darcy could experience the same highs as I do in company such as this, or indeed in any company. He seems content to live his life as

Mrs Bennet: the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world! Lurking like a phantom on the fringes of the hall, eyeing everyone with poorly masked disdain. A gentleman indeed! He certainly has nothing in the way of looks. Not like that charming Mr Bingley. Rich, well-bred and as handsome as can be ever imagined! He is the stark opposite of Mr Darcy, whom I despised the moment I set eyes on him! As for Mr Darcy’s rumoured wealth, well, let’s just say I have heard mutterings from numerous reputable sources that denounce such claims as outrageous and unfounded drivel! Still, even if the man were as moneyed as the King, I would not have him consorting with my beautiful Jane, or Elizabeth, or even Mary! Wealth and aristocratic airs don’t impress me! Lord knows even lumpy Mr Lucas would be better suited for my girls than that miserable man! Look how Lizzy sits there with no offer of dance from Mr Darcy. The poor girl is abandoned in cruel isolation, putting on a brave smile to mask her

October 30, 2019October 30, 2019

Short Story: ‘Chroniker’

On our fourth day alive we killed the elderly, as has always been the custom. Three days of tolerance, of something like restraint, then when the great Chroniker chugged into gear for another cycle, we had at it. I would not have waited so long, but tradition does have some brief part to play in life’s journey.

The three-day rule has its purposes, of course. The baton being passed, lessons from yesterday brightening today. But frankly, my people need very little instruction before being ready to blaze out into the world, and our days are far too few to be spent lingering in lecture halls, enduring those withering old Tenners droning on and on about bygone decades. Five, seven, even ten minutes at a time we are expected to just sit and listen! If you knew anything at all about my race, traveller, you might appreciate a little more how tortuous that kind of patience really is.

October 27, 2019November 7, 2019

Short Story: ‘Sweet Tooth’

An adaption of the poem “Ulysses” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

The convenience store across the road got a delivery today. Big box of candy, Kit Kats, Hershey Bars – that sorta thing. Saw the little shit who works there too. Ignores me when I want his attention, snickers to himself while I’m buying jimmies, asks if I need help across the road behind a mask of smugness on his pimply, pubescent face! I’ve been trying to take my mind off it, dangerous and reckless thoughts being what they are and all. But strolling over there with that Gary Cooper walk I used to do on a job, taking some candy and swiping all the cash is… well… tempting to say the least. I could afford to buy that whole shop now, Hershey Bars and all. Yet eating them day and night while they lie in crates at my feet wouldn’t give me a fraction of the satisfaction id get from just taking one, using that universal currency of fear.

They were my Crew, I was their leader. We split scores down the middle, equal pay. We got shot at, we shot back, we ran, we fought, we suffered, we celebrated, and we got richer. Good and bad, we shared the burden of our mistakes and the fruits of our labour. Those days were the best of my life, I’ve never felt more alive as when I was so close to death!