The station (Creative Writing)

Bodies swarmed and arms flailed.  Hands grabbed strands of hair and jacket sleeves and laces from my shoes.  I hit back blindly with a panicked rush of fists, which all missed their mark, since my eyes were screwed shut.  For a couple of seconds, it all stopped.  My eyes snapped open and fell instantly upon a face that was not really a face because there were no eyes.  There were just empty sockets, which nevertheless appeared to hold my gaze.  And then it all started again.  The more I looked up, the more blank stares I was held transfixed by, and the more the creatures kept coming.  The sight of them became too much and my eyes snapped forward. There was silence. Continue reading


The funeral (Creative Writing)

The funeral procession has passed this way already.  Cars have thrown up leaves from the verge, which now rest in puddles along the road.  Nobody has cut the grass, so the blades are tall enough to conceal some of the smaller gravestones.  The steady rainfall makes the whole scene look like a faded Rembrandt.  Rotting leaves have fused with the stone path; moss is now steadily covering the granite headpieces. Continue reading


Why do we dream?  Leibniz believed that life itself was a succession of dreams; Augustin believed that dreams were communications from beyond the grave and Aristotle believed that dreams were souls.  Many more thinkers assumed that dreams signalled the presence of divine power.  Nobody really knows.  For one thing, dreaming is a personal experience and this can make it difficult to remain objective.  Moreover, we don’t tend to remember our dreams very well and, even when we do, we may find them too strange and simply discard them.  Continue reading

Un Coup D’État

News of the Sedan disaster had reached Paris and the republic had been declared.  All of France was preparing for the terror, which was to last until the CommuneUp and down the country, men were playing at being soldiers.  Tradesmen were colonels who acted like generals, their pistols and daggers kept in red belts around peace-loving stomachs.  Merchants were now temporary soldiers who commanded platoons of brawlers.  They swore like carters in a bid to gain credibility. Continue reading

L’Aventure de Walter Schnaffs

Walter Schnaffs had arrived in France with the invading army.  And, ever since, he had been very unhappy.  Walter was fat with podgy feet and he was always out of breath.  He was also peace-loving and gentle, without a high-minded or blood bone in his body.  He loved his four children and missed the tender kisses and home comforts of his young wife.  He especially missed her in the evenings. Continue reading