‘Flash the ash.’
The red pack of Marlboro was offered around reluctantly by Julie to her two companions on the park bench. The day was cold for June and an angry sky foretold rain.
‘You know these fags cost more than fifty pence each?’ said Julie. ‘I saw Granddad yesterday and he said in his day you could get ten cigarettes for one and three.’
‘What’s ‘one and three’ when it’s at home? Julie’s brother Dom asked.
‘How the fuck should I know,’ Julie shrugged. ‘But it doesn’t sound very much.’
‘It’s old money. Your granddad meant one shilling and threepence. In today’s money that’s around six-pence. I’m doing a project on it at school,’ said Boff.
Continue reading “The Third Person – Steve Luckham”
‘Vi? Vi! There’s another one been lost! That’s the third in three weeks.’
Mrs Bennett from next door bustled into the kitchen, brandishing a copy of the Mail which she spread out over Vi’s kitchen table. ‘THIRD HULL TRAWLER LOST’, the headline exclaimed. ‘19 ON BOARD. “No hope”, say the owners.’ The Ross Cleveland had gone down in Icelandic waters, all lives presumed lost. The Romano had gone down two weeks before, followed by the Kingston Peridot a week later.
‘Now, are you going to get behind Lil and sign her petition?’
‘Bloody Lil. She should leave well alone. It’s men’s work. No place for a woman to be meddling. Is it true she tried to stop the St Keverne from sailing?’ Continue reading “Wash Day -by Rachel Hogg”
“So, why do they leave that one light on overnight?” Alice asked.
Paul turned to look at the empty stage, one last time before his retirement.
“That’s the ghost light.” He smiled. The single light bulb stood in the centre of the theatre’s main stage, giving off a slight warm glow. “You leave it on overnight to ward off evil spirits that may lurk in the theatre.”
Alice’s face turned pale with the idea of ghosts. Paul turned to look at her and quickly chuckled. Continue reading “The Whistling Man By Michael Mann”