Something Imaginative

Tag: story

  • Story-Teller.

    I am a story-teller. Not one of great note, and not even one with a fireplace round which I can spin my yarns, but I am a storyteller. I can feel the spaceship under my feet, the gentle throb of the engines through the metal bullwarks, I can feel the warm summer breeze on my…

  • 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…

  • Spirit Journey

    Nostros took the first caravan going anywhere, plying his small trade as a bandager and maker of simple herbal potions. He also offered his small skill with the sword. The bigger caravans were well provisioned with clerics and warriors, better able to protect themselves. Nostros found himself with a place with a small poor caravan,…

  • Prophetic Voices from Renewed Ancient Traditions

    I was at a lecture today at the Baptist College of South Wales in Cardiff, curteusy of my training. The interesting thing that came to light (amongst the learning about the Celtic Tradition (which I’m very interested in), the Anabaptists, and the New Monastic Movement), was this idea that prophetic voices have not been lost…

  • 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…

  • Sweeper

    Edward was angry, working his way up to furious. It was his fathers’ fault. Being 17,  ninty percent of the things that made him angry was his fathers fault. This one, in particular, he felt was his fathers fault. Edward would be turning 18 in a few months, and he was trying to organise a…

  • Story : A book of Stories

    Producing your first book is a heck of a task. It’s an uphill struggle to get it accepted, to get your name out there, to get yourself talked about. Most authors start with short stories, or journalism. Such a person is Hannah Eiseman-Renyard. Her book has just managed to hit amazon. I’ve yet to get…