Something Imaginative

Tag: Short Story

  • The Caller. (Unfinished)

    It was late when the bell rang. The houses’ occupants looked at each other, and one heaved themselves out of a chair, and made their way to the door. He pulled it open and looked out into the damp and misty misty night into the very frightened face of a man. “Can I help you?”…

  • Death and Josephine (unfinished)

    Josephine had fallen in love, and she was sure it wasn’t usuall. She had heard all her friends talk about love, but for her entire 24 years, she had never really understood. She had never truly understood that longing, that yearning, that desperate need to be close to someone. She didn’t really understand the concept…

  • The Island of Reason

    The first few months had been nothing but rage. Each time, each stake, had been revenge. The number of times he had paid back his father’s death on one of the monsters was incalculable. Just like the times he had avenged his mother by slowly pulling one out into the daylight. They were simply monsters,…

  • Alone

    He stumbled over the stones on the mountain, and put his hand out to steady himself. He sighed, and pulled his dirty jacket around him. He looked towards the small grey line that winds through these hills. He liked the silence of the mountains. He liked the soft tinkle of the water. Most of all…

  • Picture Perfect

    Michael stamped his feet against the cold, and blew into his cupped hands. Not for the first time that night he contemplated his warm flat. He pulled the collar up on his coat, and went back to contemplating the window. This was becoming a little tedious. All he wanted was to be able to take…

  • The Office

    Susan Webster sat on her packing boxes, and looked around her now-packed house. She had lived there in a not-so happy marriage with her Husband for the past 20 years. She’s thought they were doing okay. The talking had slowed down, and he had started spending more time at work, but that was normal for…

  • The Monk

    The Abbot opened the door to the two visitors to the monastry. They were an odd pair, one in black jeans, and black T-shirt, the other with his hair in dread-locks, and black skin. He looked familiar, but the Abbot couldn’t place him. “Can I help you gentlemen?” The abbot asked. “He’s ‘ere for de…