Greenwood, Mississippi 1943 It was five minutes before the town bell would announce noon. The door to The Mississippi Jug breezed closed behind the stranger. Leather case in hand, he straightened his waistcoat. His gaze judged the face of each man. Only the women reacted to the new arrival in the juke joint, appraising theContinue reading “When The Last Leaves Fall”
Author Archives: Phillip Drown
When The Last Leaves Fall – a new project
To celebrate the second anniversary of the release of my debut novel, ‘The Reputation of Booya Carthy’, I decided to do something a little different, something that I haven’t tried before. A short companion story is going to appear here over the next few days in serialised instalments. It is mostly unrelated, but might have aContinue reading “When The Last Leaves Fall – a new project”
The Mobile Phone Terror Attacks
‘A new wave of terror has hit Europe in the past twenty-four hours,’ the Welsh newsreader was saying as Gwen continued knitting the beanie for her son. ‘So far, injuries have been reported in thirty countries, including the UK. While many of the surviving victims have suffered life changing injuries; most have lost their lives.Continue reading “The Mobile Phone Terror Attacks”
Dirty Old Sod
We are having a reading night at the writer’s group that I attend. The theme is flash fiction. Wikipedia – oh wise, trusty, yet unreliable writer’s tool – says that flash fiction is “work of extreme brevity, including the Six-Word Story, 140-character stories, the dribble (50 words), the drabble (100 words), and sudden fiction (750 words).”Continue reading “Dirty Old Sod”
To Breathe Again
1 In the exposed land halfway between the woods and the farm, I crouch, watching the figure of a man advance along the driveway. He is tall. Is he taller? At this distance I cannot be sure. To steady myself, my hand is on the basket of wood I was carrying; my stomach rests upon myContinue reading “To Breathe Again”
Tales From A Record Shop #8
F is for Fib.
Madame Colti
Standing outside the door, around the corner from Mornington Crescent tube station, Colin Babb checked the address on his phone once more. The map showed that he was in the right place, but there was only this door, wedged between a bicycle repair shop and fast food outlet. By the pictures on Madame Colti’s website,Continue reading “Madame Colti”
Tales From A Record Shop #7
Fathers & Daughters – Pimping out your progeny.
Tales From a Record Shop #6
M is for Muppet.
Kingdom
Everyone else had left. Augustus Drake stood at the top of the mossy bank and looked down on Kingdom. At the ruined remains in the swampland. Both his heart and mind were numb, not just because he was drunk. The elixirs of Kingdom’s medicine man had impaired nearly all of his bodily organs, as itContinue reading “Kingdom”
