(1250 words) While I wait for news, and now my hands have stopped shaking, I want to record the incident that happened tonight. My parents have gone to London to see an opera and still aren’t back at nearly half past midnight. They said I could have a couple of schoolfriends around as long as we promised to be ‘sensible.’ Fat chance! So, Shelley and Julie had called round, about seven o’clock. They’d brought some DVDs and Julie had snuck a couple of bottles of beer from her brother’s stash. Shelley had brought a large carrier bag. The post Espíritus Malignos first appeared on To Cut a Short St ..read more

(1250 words) James sat at the dining room table. It was after school on Monday and a mathematics tome lay open in front of him. Through the window, he could see the garden and, in the distance, the little pond with the red garden gnome perpetually fishing. The door opened. “James, how are you getting on with your homework?” “Oh, I’m stuck on these quadratic equations.” His stepfather’s thin lips compressed. “Don’t you pay attention in class? Every schoolboy knows the square on the hypothenuse is equal to the sum of the squares on the other two sides. Or at least they did when I was your age ..read more

(1100 words) “What time do you get off?” the girl had asked me. Surprised, I’d turned from flipping a burger. She was tall, and slim, with blonde hair in a short ponytail. “I’ve a break in twenty minutes. Why?” “Can we chat? I need a favour.” The next twenty minutes had crawled past. I could see the girl sitting in a corner, fiddling with her phone. What the hell did she want? “Look, my name’s Martha, I come here sometimes, you’ve served me a couple of times,” she said when I was free to join her. Now I came to think about it, she did seem somewhat familiar, but then we served a lot of people ..read more

“There is no such thing as a haunted house,” said I. “T’aint the house that be haunted, Mr. Rauland,” said the old man, “just the library.” I put down my valise and hung my coat and hat on a stand. “Whatever, there are no such things as ghosts.” “That’s what the last one said. Mr. Griffin, that was ‘is name,” said the old woman. Her hair was white but with a green tinge, as if mouldy, and her beady eyes were swollen and bloodshot. “Well, e’s in the mad ‘ouse now, is Mr. Griffin.” The post Eyes of the Madman first appeared on To Cut a Short Story Short ..read more

Carry my heart, take it down to the sea, Where the sand meets the waves, and the sea meets the sky, And let me remember my comrades who died, And who fought for their country, like me. Carry my memories, out ‘cross the land, Where the sand meets the green, and the green meets the town, The post To the Blue (poem) first appeared on To Cut a Short Story Short ..read more

(550 words) “I’m a servant, milord, a maid to Sir Oswald’s household.” “And are you happy there?” I asked. “No, milord, cursed be the day I came into this house!” “What do you see around you?” “Stone flags, milord, and a great fire. There’s a kettle o’water a’heatin’ for the washing.” “Is it the scullery?” “Yes, milord, there be a great kitchen for the cooking.” “Is there anyone else there?” (subject laughs) “Yes, milord, there’s Jack, the varlet. He sits by the fire, his face red as any fox!” The post Jolly as a Pie! first appeared on To Cut a Short Story Short ..read more

(1150 words) It was midday, the sun’s yellow disc was high in the clear-blue summer sky and it was sweltering. The heat burned into every cell of my body and mind. I could feel my back beneath my rucksack wet with sweat, and drops of it ran down my face from time to time. The grass beneath my walking boots was dry and brown, there’d been little rain for weeks. “I think we should take a break, it’s too hot.” The post The Things You See first appeared on To Cut a Short Story Short ..read more

True supernatural experiences presented in a seven minute podcast. The post The Haunting Business (podcast) first appeared on To Cut a Short Story Short ..read more

(800 words) “Manager of data security and hacker extraordinaire! May I introduce the head of MI7, Baronetess Zilberstein?” The Speaker of the House of Commons gestured towards a short woman with the face of a man. Her hair was black and greasy, and reminded Grant Balfour of the ‘pudding basin’ haircuts he’d endured as a child. Her features were pudgy and grey, as if moulded from ancient Plasticine. She dipped her head perfunctorily, but her thin, straight lips remained compressed. The post The Seven first appeared on To Cut a Short Story Short ..read more

(1300 words) “Mother Mary and Jozuf!” exclaimed the old man, looking up at the dark sky. I swear I saw somethin’ fly past just now. Somethin’ white and round, real low. He took another swig from his bottle and turned back to the brazier. He wore a woollen hat, a dirty black greatcoat and brown boots with the soles almost worn through. If you had been near him you would have smelt a curious smell. A mixture of mould, sweat and urine. For that reason, he sat alone at the brazier. ‘Greetings, Earthman!’ The tramp heard the voice in his head and turned around. He almost fainted at the sight of the ..read more