Prose: Winter

I dressed to please him, hoping in vain to detect a glint of approval in the ice-blue eyes that so matched his name. Herr Winter, our Special Weapons instructor, showed no sign of favour as he took us through our drills yet again: The killer scent spray, a single press Chanel No.5, a rapid coded […]

Read More


Prose: Walking on the Beach

As he walked along the beach, memories came to him of other beaches he had trodden. The beaches of childhood. The mounting excitement as it was approached in the sunshine; passing the little shops, colourful buckets and spades strung in rows; racks of rude postcards — fat ladies with fat bums and enormous bosoms threatening […]

Read More


Prose: Virtuous Reality!

“Safe Sex is Cybersex—Cybersex is SAFE!” Victor hummed the advertising jingle as he prepared for his self-promised treat. He had been saving all month for this. This was the big-time, the upmarket program used by VPs and other execs, not a sleazy “Dial-a-Dame” advertised on the Participorn networks. Victor James was a virtual clerk, a […]

Read More


Prose: Turkish Delight

For the past eight hours the bus had struggled through the mountains. It was night, and Carstairs was grateful for the fact that the vehicle had not had to halt for its hourly rest to allow the radiator to cool. The night air kept the temperature below boiling point,, but, in the bus, the body […]

Read More


Prose: This Door is open

(?) IV ACT IV SCENE IV (incomplete work) Two warders brought him to the governor’s office and stood one at each side of him in front of the broad desk. The governor made a sign and the prison officers left silently without a backward glance at the seventeen year old who stared insolently at the […]

Read More


Prose: The Wound

The peons cross themselves as they pass my door; the men grabbing the sombrero from their head, the women, in the high crowned black hats of the region, take the cigar from their mouths to mumble Aves. They look at me and then, invariably, their eyes turn to the big wooden cross that stands between […]

Read More


Prose: The Water Way

“Be patient” murmured the old man, his Buddha smile as calm as a still lake; but the young men stirred restlessly, their hands fiddling with the safety catches of their rifles, checking and rechecking the loaded magazines. Peasant boys most of them, they tugged at the collars of their coarse camouflaged uniforms, uncomfortable with the […]

Read More


Prose: The Wanderer

THE WANDERER It is hard for the likes of me, a homebody, to understand a man like Dermot. A Wanderer, he termed himself, in one of those interminable chats we had that always lasted long into the night. My stock of malt whiskey was sadly depleted on each visit to my lonely cottage, but it […]

Read More