www.storymania.com
Storymania Logo

 

 

Short Stories




A Fortuitous Meeting by Shelley Alongi Aviation Series story 1. An emergency landing brings a pilot and a teacher together in a m... [16,996 words]
The Attorney's Assistant by Shelley Alongi About a relationship between a U.S. attorney and an assistant. Emphasizes positive co... [7,617 words]
A Taste Of Death by Frank Dunsmore Dective Schmidt with Homicide of the Chicago PD is baffled by several arsenic poisonings. He a... [5,669 words]
The Animal Prison by L J Milakovic A zoo from an abused tiger's point of view. The abuse is too persistent for the tiger, and he... [823 words]
Resistance by Shelley Alongi The actions and thoughts of a boy facing the bleak certainty of death in a Jewish ghetto in 1943. [1,414 words]
Hill Number 18 by Shelley Alongi A major recalls taking his platoon out of a mine field in Vietnam. [1,225 words]
Timmya The Totter - And The Rise Of The Dead Part 2 by Rose Trimovski This next story has to deal with the next adventure that Ti... [6,731 words]
The Perfect Gift by T J Richards A woman goes to the middle east and finds the most unlikely of things while there. [1,681 words]
The Old Horse by Joan Bentley I wrote this one for my Dad and Arnold Palmer, believe it or not. Every year I would watch the U... [1,915 words]
The Magical Publishing Pen by Mila Strictzer Vegas and the devil. [4,596 words]
The Last Leaf by Abby Steed - [1,875 words]
The Gnome From Alaska by David Soriano A humorous short story involving... a gnome. [1,427 words]
The Cold Afterglow At The West End by David Soriano A short story involving mystery and some element of truth. [1,666 words]
The Band Played On by Sue (Sooz) Simpson - [1,486 words]
Tangled Web by Sue (Sooz) Simpson Treat `em mean and keep `em keen. [596 words]
Taking A Chance by Leigh Berry A story about facing fears while traveling in the post September 11 world. [679 words]
Sweet Child Of Mine by Sue (Sooz) Simpson The old lady had been brutally mugged, her son was sucjh a good boy, but would his thoughts... [1,843 words]
Scorn, Thy Name Is Woman by Norman A Rubin This is a story of murder committed by a meek little man upon his nagging and complain... [2,360 words]
Room For One More by Sue (Sooz) Simpson The dream was haunting and wouldn't leave Mike alone. [1,728 words]
Return Of The Hellcat (Erotica May Be Offensive) by Sue (Sooz) Simpson Please do not read this one if easily offended. Or even not so... [3,390 words]
Pact Of Joy. by Sue (Sooz) Simpson Don't we all just want to be happy? [2,497 words]
Out Of Print
One-Man Race by Sue (Sooz) Simpson He had only his nerves to rely on. One slip and the race would be lost. [664 words]
Etagere by Karen L Snyder Étagère--Set in the 1920's during Prohibition, a lady's husband is killed in a saloon brawl. She is wit... [9,649 words]
Dreamscape by Mila Strictzer A story about dreams. [4,963 words]
Death At The Conservatory by Frank Dunsmore John Benson watched Charles Manning sip from his water bottle. Throwing a smug, disda... [3,239 words]
A Darker Night by Albert Davis I think that in this world people all have dual identities and what you see is seldom the truth ... [1,507 words]
A Brush With Death by Frank Dunsmore Homicide Detective Schmidt with the Chicago PD visits the Art Institute to take a break from... [5,169 words]
Would You Like To Swing On A Star by Lisa Petro A short story of less than 1000 words about what is and what might be. [568 words]
The Pirate Ship by Kurt Kitasaki A short satire on employment practices. [230 words]
The Origin Of Our Five Senses by Stephanie Siegfred A children's story of how we came about to have the sense of taste, touch, hear, ... [591 words]
The Night Dancers by Moya Green What do you do when your best friend gets himself captured by the fairies? [1,522 words]
The Fantastical Adventure Of William Solney by Daniel Birnbaum A story to relive that freedom of youth which touches your heart an... [9,401 words]
The Elves And The Preacher by Norman A Rubin A modern version of the fairy story which tells of a goodly cleric and how he copes ... [1,603 words]
Roch by Sunny Cybersex. [289 words]
Mourning Glory by Sue (Sooz) Simpson One of my favourite pieces. Please note *This is not a children's story* It's the tale of a litt... [1,786 words]
Mortar Doesn't Breathe. by Sue (Sooz) Simpson The house was inanimate, dead ... because her child was gone. [1,114 words]
Making My Way Back To You. by Sue (Sooz) Simpson She'd told them a thousand times to keep the front door closed, now tragedy had stru... [1,926 words]
Madness Becomes You by Sue (Sooz) Simpson She used to be someone, now she's several people, or maybe she's nobody at all, it makes no... [394 words]
Little Bird by Sue (Sooz) Simpson He liked fragile things [1,406 words]
Knockers by Sue (Sooz) Simpson It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it. [2,210 words]
Just The Ticket by Sue (Sooz) Simpson You pays your money and you takes your chances. [5,177 words]
I've Always Wanted To Write... But! by Sue (Sooz) Simpson There's always an excuse if you want to find one. [510 words]
Is The Toilet Roll Half Full Or Half Empty by Sue (Sooz) Simpson It's hard when you're at bursting point. [423 words]
Airport Interrogation by Bryan Caron Susan thinks all men are jerks and doesn't feel she will ever find the right man until on... [2,579 words]
A Story With No Beginning by Bryan Caron A young writer wants to tell a fantastical tale but canot come up with a good beginni... [2,120 words]
A Date With Destiny by Stephanie Siegfred A suicide victim reflects upon her life and her fatal decision to end it when she is given ... [1,996 words]
The Wishfish by Moya Green Doris stared down at the kipper. The kipper stared back. "Don't eat me," it said. [1,861 words]
The Waiting Man by Dave Furniss - [577 words]
The Troubled Sky by Caitlin Gallacher-Turner A girl by the name of Cira, recently turned thirteen, discovers that she has the ability for s... [3,565 words]
The Midget by Nathaniel Perhay A story about a midget! [604 words]
The Heart Of The Storm by C G L Davies A bad storm makes me think. [586 words]
The Ghost Story Of Yotsu-Ya by Norman A Rubin The reader is brought to Japan during the era of the emperors - The story, based on... [1,961 words]
The Day I Killed Ryan Watts... by Lawrence Peters Just a joke inspired by a fellow poet. [157 words]
Story Of My Life by Ryan Watts A very short story with a meaning so shallow you'll puke. But read it anyway! [246 words]
Sixteen by Eloise H Anson Story about finding love, and the confusion, pain and angst that walks hand in hand with it. [3,411 words]
P.S.-I Love You by Pauline A White Frankie was just a good old country boy.He felt honored when Della became his woman. She was sm... [6,861 words]
Peter by Nathaniel Perhay A boy and his day! [1,100 words]
One More Fallen' by Jordan S Wilson a shrt overview of the tragic shooting of Tupac Shakure threw the eyes of his bodyguard. [1,944 words]
Noone To Nowhere by Alina Marquez Short story about a woman on a Greyhound bus to El Paso. [1,294 words]
Jacks, Or Better To Open by Lawrence Peters - [2,139 words]
Ghosts... by Lawrence Peters - [572 words]
From The Backbay Chronicles - Revival Week by Pauline A White Sundays in August were special times in the South. You had Revivals... [1,551 words]
From Backbay Chronicles - Mama And The Po-Lice by Pauline A White This is a story for pre and teenagers. It is part of a series o... [2,981 words]
From Backbay Chronicles - Visiting Day by Pauline A White Sometimes the Spirit can hit you really hard... [1,337 words]
Eyes by Lawrence Peters For Parker. [339 words]
Dogsbody by Moya Green It was during the great thunderstorm that George decided to become a dog [940 words]
Blood And Honour by Bradley Postma A tale of skinhead life and death... with a killer twist. Critiques are welcome. [10,135 words]
Backbay Chronicles - Randy And Sandy by Pauline A White 'A boy and his dog' is an old theme. Love is even older, and more rewardi... [2,696 words]
Baby Secrets... by Lawrence Peters Something you always want but should never have. [762 words]

Go to page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 [38] 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49
TITLE (EDIT)
Out Of Print
DESCRIPTION
A man, a boy, a love of reading and echoes of the past.
[2,007 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Drama
AUTHOR
Sue (Sooz) Simpson
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I'm thirty nine, recently single again. I have two boys Cli' (pronounced clee) Real name Christopher and Mark. I'm a care in the community nurse and formerly (when I was married) an occupational Therapist working with the mentally ill on a secure unit. I love reading and writing and meeting people. I hate offal, seafood and intolerance. I keep dog, cat, polecats, rats and reptiles. And for seven years ran the second largest reptile sanctuary in Britain. Apart from having my lads, I think that's probably the most worthwhile thing I've ever done. Writing wise, I've been the main fiction writer for Legends magazine for three years.And have two books published 'Lizard's Leap' published by Quillusers, and 'Better the Devil You Know' soon to be released by Bestbooks.Um I drive a knackered old Astra, and ride a two litre trike. I live in the lake district of England, and am happy. :-)
[January 2003]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
sooz.006@virgin.net
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (84)
A Fork In The Road. (Short Stories) A paradox revolving round the lonely Holker Mosses in the dead of night. [2,835 words] [Mystery]
A Twist In The Tail (Short Stories) - [963 words]
Agony (Short Stories) The First in a series of Agony columns written by the unstoppable Aunt Nasty. (May be deemed offensive) [1,200 words] [Comedy]
Agony 2 (Short Stories) Morew from the irrepresible Aunt Nasty (May be deemed offensive). [1,077 words] [Comedy]
Angel Stew (Short Stories) The kitchens are in uproar. [826 words] [Comedy]
Anne (Short Stories) - [707 words]
Apple Of His Eye (Short Stories) Daddy's little girl, Daddy's little sweetheart. (May be deemed offensive). [1,742 words] [Drama]
Attractions (Short Stories) People stared at the sisters and called them freaks. [678 words] [Drama]
Bandit At Twelve-O-Clock (Short Stories) A sinister note drops through her letter box, but who is it from and what's it all about? [2,144 words] [Drama]
Barriers (Short Stories) Everybody's frightened of the prisoner in the cell at the end of the block. [2,913 words] [Thriller]
Breakfast In Bed (Short Stories) She loved her husband so much, and a sepcial man deserves a special breakfast. [1,633 words] [Horror]
Car Trouble (Short Stories) Boys will be boys. [496 words] [Comedy]
Cat's Chorus (Short Stories) - [1,332 words]
Cherry Blossom (Short Stories) - [435 words]
Cold, Cold Night.. (Short Stories) The night was beautiful but biting, she had to make her final farewells, a cigarette would help. [630 words] [Drama]
Creeping Up From Behind. (Short Stories) You can't ever really know what someone else is thinking ... unless they choose to tell you. [925 words] [Drama]
Dark Solitude. (Short Stories) A woman alone on the moors when a storm threatens, but this is no ordinanry storm and that is no ordinary lady. [1,434 words] [Drama]
Dawn Rising (Short Stories) He looked at his own personal sunrise every morning, yet longed for the warmth of the sun. [1,069 words] [Drama]
Deadly Persuit (Short Stories) Nature at its most cruel .. when it's interfered with by man. [1,541 words] [Drama]
Deep Blue Eastern Light (Poetry) I've never been to Budapest, but I saw an image on a postcard, it was misty and had a sort of dreamy quality about it. I wondered about the spirit of Budapest. Hope I've done her justicce. [204 words]
Different Road (Short Stories) Charlie is running scared. Will he find his way before his precious time runs out? [521 words]
Empty House (Short Stories) This had been her domain, now it was only a shadow. [649 words] [Drama]
Find Me A Place (Poetry) Everybody needs somewhere to run. [193 words] [Drama]
Finding Fleur (Short Stories) Katy desperately wants to find Fleur, but does Fleur want to be found? [1,727 words] [Drama]
Four Minute Warning (Short Stories) - [476 words] [Comedy]
Freedom By Another Name (Short Stories) He's an imposter [557 words] [Drama]
Furtive Glances (Short Stories) Always the last to know! [891 words] [Drama]
Galaxy (Poetry) Let Venus bear witness and Mars be our guide. [139 words]
Hickory, Dickory, Dock (Short Stories) - [991 words] [Drama]
Is The Toilet Roll Half Full Or Half Empty (Short Stories) It's hard when you're at bursting point. [423 words] [Comedy]
I've Always Wanted To Write... But! (Short Stories) There's always an excuse if you want to find one. [510 words] [Mind]
Jasmine And Gardenia Love (Poetry) - [417 words] [Erotic]
Jinny (Poetry) - [176 words]
Just The Ticket (Short Stories) You pays your money and you takes your chances. [5,177 words] [Drama]
Knockers (Short Stories) It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it. [2,210 words] [Drama]
Little Bird (Short Stories) He liked fragile things [1,406 words] [Drama]
Lizards Leap (Novels) Four children buy an intricately carved frame from a school fair. A crazy old woman chases them desperately wanting the carving for herself. What is the mystery surrounding the strange frame? [5,753 words] [Adventure]
Long Walk Back To Jurassica (Poetry) Evolution and progress or three million steps backwards? [323 words] [Drama]
Lookingthrough The Window (Short Stories) - [401 words]
Madness Becomes You (Short Stories) She used to be someone, now she's several people, or maybe she's nobody at all, it makes no difference. [394 words] [Drama]
Making My Way Back To You. (Short Stories) She'd told them a thousand times to keep the front door closed, now tragedy had struck. [1,926 words] [Drama]
Memberwhen (Poetry) Memberwhen that mystical word of long ago memories. [189 words] [Drama]
Mortar Doesn't Breathe. (Short Stories) The house was inanimate, dead ... because her child was gone. [1,114 words] [Drama]
Mourning Glory (Short Stories) One of my favourite pieces. Please note *This is not a children's story* It's the tale of a little girl trying to be a child. [1,786 words] [Drama]
Mumbles From The Madhouse (Novels) It was her first day on the secure unit and somehow she had to see it through. [2,215 words] [Drama]
My Friend The Tiger And Me (Poetry) I wrote this for my little boy when he was having trouble at school. [942 words] [Animal]
Naughty Bunny Goes To Ibiza (Short Stories) - [552 words]
One-Man Race (Short Stories) He had only his nerves to rely on. One slip and the race would be lost. [664 words] [Drama]
Outrun The River (Poetry) The snow was melting fast and he owed it to himself and his seld of dogs to make it to safety. [145 words] [Action]
Pact Of Joy. (Short Stories) Don't we all just want to be happy? [2,497 words] [Drama]
Play With Me Please. (Short Stories) - [322 words]
Return Of The Hellcat (Erotica May Be Offensive) (Short Stories) Please do not read this one if easily offended. Or even not so easily offended. Continuing sexploits of Dark Solitude. [3,390 words] [Erotic]
Room For One More (Short Stories) The dream was haunting and wouldn't leave Mike alone. [1,728 words] [Drama]
Rush Hour (Short Stories) - [419 words]
Sally (Short Stories) - [2,268 words]
Sinister Music (Novels) She had no psychic ability, so why had fate chosen her to foretell of the spate of brutal murders? [6,114 words] [Drama]
So This Is My Life Then (Short Stories) - [517 words] [Comedy]
Space Walk (Short Stories) May Cause offense. [1,290 words] [Drama]
Spirit Dancer (Poetry) - [514 words]
Sweet Child Of Mine (Short Stories) The old lady had been brutally mugged, her son was sucjh a good boy, but would his thoughts now turn to revenge? [1,843 words] [Drama]
Tangled Web (Short Stories) Treat `em mean and keep `em keen. [596 words] [Drama]
The Band Played On (Short Stories) - [1,486 words] [Drama]
The Big Picture (Short Stories) The little girl was a great artist, but her subject matter was giving cause for concern. [776 words] [Drama]
The Comet. (Short Stories) Remember! [796 words] [Drama]
The Dinosaur (Short Stories) - [1,523 words]
The Half Empty Glass. (Short Stories) They had no idea of the horror they were walking into. [3,030 words] [Drama]
The Hhmmm Efect (Poetry) - [783 words]
The Iceberg (Short Stories) She had to break the hold they had on him... release him from his parents grip. [410 words] [Drama]
The Joker (Short Stories) - [2,032 words]
The Lovers (Poetry) - [124 words]
The Mark Of Jack (Short Stories) The start of something maybe. [1,044 words] [Drama]
The Old Enemy (Short Stories) I just hope I've got the names right. [253 words] [Drama]
The Rosary (Short Stories) May cause offense. [422 words]
The Spark (Short Stories) - [557 words]
The Thirteenth Station (Short Stories) - [8,024 words] [Horror]
The Village Green. (Short Stories) - [559 words] [Drama]
Three Mile Gap (Poetry) So close and yet... [285 words] [Drama]
Tomorrow Lies Beside Us (Poetry) - [239 words] [Drama]
Tusk (Short Stories) - [1,012 words] [Drama]
Under The Whether (Short Stories) - [1,626 words]
Watching And Waiting (Short Stories) - [1,253 words] [Drama]
White Icing (Short Stories) - [1,385 words]
Worlds Biggest Loser (Short Stories) - [114 words]
You Are My Sunshine (Short Stories) - [1,285 words]
READER'S REVIEWS (3)
DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.

"This story should be put "out of print."" -- Cole.
"Harver’s Review: ***As moderator of this email forwarding group I’ve reserved the right to edit out any comments/reviews on works that I do not feel are appropriate. Therefore I’ve deleted all of the “humorous” posts that stated the reviewer could not comment on this particular piece because it was “out of print” and therefore not available. If you are to participate in this email-forwarding group I ask you to give concrete answers that will benefit the writer whom you comment upon. You have my blessing to serve your point with humor, but I ask that you deliver something more than some short quip or unhelpful remark. I will now do my own review of this piece. A short story, just like its novel counterpart must always have a beginning, middle, and end; in short a plot. Things happen within this story, but it fails to meet the requirements of having a plot, things happen, but nothing really occurs as if it was taken from a snippet of what occurred during someone’s day. An incident. On a more positive note, what does happen within the story is somewhat confusing but also mystifying and I have highlighted in blue sections of the text where I thought description was particularly well-handled compared to where adjectives seemed to overburden the words they were supposed to help modify. I’d also suggest to the author to be more aware of sliding from one time period to another in a more cohesive manner. I’d recommend “Strunk and White.” I’ve also interspersed some comments throughout the original text.*** Out Of Print Sue (Sooz) Simpson artin ***Part of this name was cut off*** pushed open the stiff door of the town library and inhaled deeply. The familiar smell held out its welcoming arms to him and he embraced it eagerly ***cut “eagerly”***. He found that ***cut “that”*** he could separate the two distinct ingredients of the library’s aroma. First, and perhaps the stronger of the two scents, was the musty smell of age weary books, leafed through by a thousand eager ***cut “eager”*** hands. This was the smell of history; a musty, dusty, ***Use either “musty” or “dusty.” Using both clutters.*** reminiscent nose-tickling smell of time. It was wonderful, and reminded Martin of attics and locked trunks. No matter how much sparkle, new paint and polish the library was given, this smell would not be defeated, and prevailed to welcome visitors. The second part of the smell was the exciting waft of brand new books; virgin territory never before explored. He loved it when ‘his’ date stamp was the first to blemish the inside cover of a new copy. ***Either the writer has dated this work by putting it in an earlier period of America, or the setting is outside the US.*** Today the library was having an ‘out of print’ sale, a sort of annual spring clean, a metaphorical throwing out of the age old tomes that had lain on the shelves for a hundred years without being read or borrowed; or several months at least. Old novels that were thumb worn and weary ***eliminate “and weary”***, read so many times that ***eliminate “that”*** the pages were in danger of disintegrating to dust with just one more page turn. Books on fly tying, lace making, favourite highland walks ***I get the impression the author of this piece is either Scottish or English, or has a grasp of the markers of OE***. Children’s books, reference books and books of indeterminate nature, unsold in last year’s sale. He would describe himself as a man of the written word, an avid reader since early childhood. He had developed a deep love and knowledge of period drama, and revelled ***only one “l”*** in the works of Dickens, identified with Edward Gorey ***Here you say Edward Gorey, and later you say Edmund Vorey. Did you confuse yourself? Or are these two writers with very similar sounding names?***, and emulated Poe. At the age of twenty-nine, he could confidently call himself a ‘writer’. He wrote freelance for a couple of small newspapers, had columns in several other magazines of small notoriety, and was the proud author of four novels. As yet he was still waiting patiently with his hook baited for ‘the big one’, but it wouldn’t be long; he could taste it. He had done the groundwork, gone hungry, amassed a shoebox full of rejection slips and gone head to head with countless agents and publishers. He was still hungry and the big one was but words away. Martin was a deceptive man to look at ***I’d reword this to reduce confusion for the reader, perhaps “…deceptive looking man;” but since that also seems to conjure up the wrong image, perhaps a much more simple “he was not as he appeared” or “he was more/less what he appeared”***; a deep thinker hiding in the body of an amiable clown. He looked much younger than his twenty-nine years and could pass for a second-year student attending one of the three sixth-form colleges ***I’m almost convinced now that the author here is from the British isles. It is ashame I’ll never know though*** in the area. Only when you were close enough to study the depth and maturity behind the lovely ***This is odd adjective use in drama. It is not usually used for omniscient p.o.v. and is usually reserved for a female’s p.o.v. or perhaps a homosexual male’s. Knowing nothing at all about the author, in order to keep this review unbiased I couldn’t say*** grey eyes did you get an inkling of a more accurate guess at his age. He dressed only in black. With the exception of his Calvin Klein underwear, every item of clothing he possessed came from charity shops. Black boots, jeans, t-shirts, waistcoats, always topped with a long black trench coat. Summer or winter, his attire never altered. He wore his coat open and it would flap against his well-made legs, and cling either side of a broad and surprisingly firm chest. He was lucky, in that his build was gained carelessly with complete disregard for physical activity. The only body part he worked out regularly was his brain. Martin stood tall and strong, with chestnut hair that sprang in soft curls flowing down to his mid back and caught at the nape of his neck in a loose pony tail. Privately, he was a quiet introspective man, losing himself for hours at a time in the lands of his imagination. ***Nice use of character contrast*** Socially, he was a loveable fool. Loud and brash, playing to his audience and loving any self-deprecating attention that came his way. Today though, he had what he called his ‘ferret head’ on, and would spend the next few hours pouring over the unloved and unwanted books, burying his head in box after box of old literature, confident in the hope of finding treasures and bargains a-plenty. He strode across the polished floor and smirked as his right boot squeaked loudly with every tread. Each person he passed would look up, either irritated or made curious by the pervasive noise, only to be completely disarmed by the wide and charming smile he gave them. Some two hours later, Martin was lost to time and space. He lived only within the square foot that he occupied; anything beyond had faded from his reality and he was in a blissful world of words and illustration. That was when he came across the greatest treasure of the day. Buried between an old encyclopaedia ***A very Latinate spelling, not necessarily wrong, but “encyclopedia” would be more appropriate for most audiences.*** and something in Hebrew was the small thin book. He saw ***recognized*** it instantly for what it was and grasped at it avariciously ***unneeded adverb***. Like a parched man at a desert oasis, he began turning the pages quickly but with reverence. His eyes glinted with pleasure and he couldn’t contain a small chuckle of merriment over his find. It was an Edmund Vorey original, first printed in 1936, and it was in excellent condition. Each page had only two sentences of verse with a black line drawing illustration opposite. Martin was delighted. The book was titled “The Man in Black”. Flicking back to the start of the story, he read aloud to himself, but very quietly. “ Journey’s end, roaming the land on a book-bound quest, Future traveller, stranger here, mysterious in long black vest.” The page opposite showed a crude drawing of a tall thin man. “Looking up and face to face, the past was who he that day met, He gazed upon what’s gone, replaced, but didn’t recognise it yet.” This picture showed the man with a pencil-thin hand shielding his eyes. Martin turned without lowering the book, determined to make his purchase and be on his way so that ***eliminate “that”*** he could better peruse his stash from the comfort of his armchair back at home. He was so deeply engrossed that ***eliminate “that”*** he almost collided with a child who had entered the isle from the opposite direction and was gazing at him with the open-eyed curiosity of a teenager. “Oi, watch out Mister, you nearly `ad me over then.***Look for “Stein” to better help you with your diction***” Martin noticed the boy for the first time. He was lanky and thin ***same thing***, with strawberry blonde hair that fell over his face like an unwashed curtain. Lively blue eyes glittered up at him from beneath the heavy fringe. “Sorry mate, I didn’t see you there. I’ve just found this really exciting book that’s pretty old and very rare.” This was typical of Martin. He would talk to anybody at any time; he didn’t notice age, so therefore addressed every child as though they were on a mental level with himself***reduce to simply “him”***. Kids were drawn to him, and although he professed to not particularly like children, they worshipped the ground he walked on. He would spark conversations with strangers about matters of interest to him, and expect them to hop on the same wave of enthusiasm that he straddled, and enjoy the ride. He threw the child one of his smiles that opened a door of instant camaraderie. “How old are you kid, and hey, why aren’t you at school?” “ I’m fifteen an` school’s boring, all them equations `n stuff. I like it in here. I like reading and I’m going to be a writer one day. ***This piece is somewhat confused but if I’m reading it correctly, these incidents should be happening in the 1930s, therefore would someone of either the US or Britain at that time use the word “stuff” it seems akin to using “far out man!”***” Martin saw himself fifteen years earlier. “Is that right? I bet you do too matey ***Arggh Matey! I’m Pirate Harver. Ummm sorry I couldn’t resist***. Yeah, I never used to go to school much either. You know mate, you can learn everything you need to know right here. Who did what to whom, and who was shagging who and when.” The lad laughed, and for want of a bigger audience, Martin decided to stick around for a few minutes and entertain his sole fan. “Hey! There were two nuns in the bath right? And one says to the other, ‘where’s the soap?’ Get it? ‘Where’s the soap?’” The lad looked at him blankly. “Oh never mind kid, just hang on to it and try it again in a couple of years, it’s a killer.” “You aren’t from around here are you?” the boy asked Martin. It struck Martin that the lad was a funny kid, pensive and thoughtful, older than his years. Martin lived only two minutes up the road, but felt a million miles away from the experiences of a fifteen-year-old. “That’s right kid,” he said enigmatically, “I’m from another time and place, a whole different bloody lifetime.” The child’s eyes widened. “I’m not surprised, I knew you were different.” Martin smirked at the lad. “You don’t know the half of it mate.” ***Apparently neither does the reader. Confusion abounds.*** They chatted for another five minutes or so and then Martin grew bored of the conversation. The book had grown warm in his palm and he was itching to get back home to read it. “Anyway, nice meeting you kid, see you round sometime.” He paid for the books that ***eliminate “that”*** he had bought and was thrilled that ***eliminate “that”*** his ‘special’ book had only cost him fifty pence. On the way home he smiled at everyone he passed. Today was a good day. Some months later, ***where at, or is the question when at?*** Martin rose to a morning of strong sunlight and enthusiastic birdsong. It was a feel-good day. The town was holding a ‘country fair’ this afternoon and he thought he might wander along, take in the river for an hour, have some lunch and then see if there were any bargains to be had. Most of the stalls would be filled with overly priced hand-crafted ***handcrafted*** goods, but he might pick up something interesting, and if not it was something to do. Some of the traditional crafts they exhibited at the fair were really interesting and gave him useful insight into the ‘olde ways’ for his books. After dining on an excellent Ploughman’s lunch and partaking of a nice Merlot, Martin felt in ***add “an”*** extremely buoyant mood. He mulled through the crowds at the fair saying “good afternoon”, and browsing the stalls. The stallholders initially loved him because he was full of interest and asked pertinent questions, but they frowned after him when, after doing their best to sell their wares, he walked away with a jaunty “that’s fascinating, thank-you for your time.” He watched the judging of the dray horses in all their finery. Big sturdy Shires and Clydesdales that snorted twin plumes of steam from their nostrils like mythical dragons. He bought a black cotton scarf and a piece of homemade gingerbread for his afternoon tea. Martin was just thinking about making his way home when a child in the crowd caught his eye. “Hey kid! How’re you doin`? Remember me? We met in the library one day. You’re going to be the next Steve King, right?” The lad’s face brightened in recognition and again they passed a pleasant few minutes. On the way home, ‘quaint’ was the word that kept coming back to Martin when he thought about the serious young lad. ~*~ That night the young Edmund Vorey sat at his writing desk. He wanted to write and only had a little while left before the light from his candle was gone; it had almost burned down to the saucer it stood on. His mother only allowed him two candles a week. Edmund dipped his quill and began with the date, “6th July in the year 19 hundred and thirty-five.” And then he continued, tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth as he wrote in deep concentration, his thick blonde hair falling over his eyes. “He appeared at the country fair. The travelling man in black, Came here from the future, then vanished slowly back.” ~*~ Martin munched on the moist gingerbread and flicked idly through the Vorey book for the ninetieth time; it always made him smile. As he read, his brow furrowed and a kid with tousled hair came into his mind. He read the familiar words and they held new meaning. “He appeared at the country fair, the travelling ***only one “l”*** man in black.” Feverish with excitement Martin rushed upstairs and booted up his computer. That night he began the ‘big one.’ The one that made his fortune and took him to the top of the best seller ***bestseller*** list. It was entitled “Child of yesterday” " -- Cam Davis.
"Thank you. you have given me plenty to think about there. Thanks Cam." -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.

TO DELETE UNWANTED REVIEWS CLICK HERE! (SELECT "MANAGE TITLE REVIEWS" ACTION)

Submit Your Review for Out Of Print
Required fields are marked with (*).
Your e-mail address will not be displayed.

Your Name*     E-mail*

City     State/Province     Country

Your Review (please be constructive!)*


Please Enter Code*:

Submit Your Rating for Out Of Print

Worst     1     2     3     4     5     6     7     8     9     10     Best

COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2000 Sue (Sooz) Simpson
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
June 2002
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
291
 

Copyright © 1998-2001 Storymania Technologies Limited. All Rights Reserved.