Collection of Short Stories and Poetry

Defective ‘I can’t be’.... ‘Yes you are the test confirms it’. ‘But’....... ‘Your number is 10078’ the officer said. He was dressed in white and plastic, wearing gloves to protect him. It was official I had to go to quarantine. I had never been sick before, but now I was defective, a burden on society and had to be sent away to the Quarantine Zone, which was across the border.     My previous identity it didn’t matter, I am number 10078. That’s who I am and I have to leave my home and go across to the other zone. ‘Take your overalls’ the officer said with a destained look. I didn’t blame him, I looked at people who were flawed in the same way, as scum, they had something wrong with them in their genes and now I was no longer part of the Well-Conditioned Zone. ‘Jug….Jug...whish whish’ the machine screeched, it was a huge device, something which looked like a tumble dryer,  they had to ensure that my illness was c...

‘The winner of this year’s ‘Star Quality’ is…….. Janice Hopkins’ Janice could not believe it, she had actually won. Pop, bang, clapping, the other contestants screaming, it was chaos. The big man himself Mr Robert Lorenzo came over to congratulate, standing and posing with the camera’s flashing. ‘How do you feel?’ asked Mitzy as she squealed like a pig in the microphone. Her big bosoms were clearly visible from her top emerging like a ship from the sea. The camera’s were at a close up inspection not obviously of her face which had make up smeared on layered as a cake.   Janice thought for a moment, one minute she had been busking on the streets of London and now she was a winner one of the biggest reality shows on television.    She could see Mitzy blinking faster, and faster waiting impatiently for the answer, so she blurted out the cliche ‘it’s amazing I can’t believe that I would be winning the show’.   Mr...

The letters in his hand were crisp, clean, and pure white and had the age of youth while Sebastian's hands were wrinkled, old and worn out. He smelt the perfume of the letters which were like flowers in the room showing down onto him. He rocked slowly as he held them and whispered 'Lillian' while Beatrice didn't budge and had gone to sleep purring away in his lap.  As the light glistened in the fireplace the colours were reflecting onto the walls of the living room like colours of the rainbow as he thought of Lillian and the past. It was at university where he had met her first, he was himself lost in the corridors, with his shirt half tucked into his trousers, tie askew and hair rough and looking at the board trying to find his class. He heard her voice, 'excuse me' and turned towards her. It was her golden hair that struck him. It shone in the corridor like a gem and it was long. She looked as though she were a mermaid emerging from...