John P. Mallon Writer & Poet
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A diverse range of short stories dealing with love and loss; hope and disappointment; the strange and the unexpected. This collection of 24 stories includes:
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A couple facing the slow transformation of humanity into something radically different and beyond reach. Do they stay with the blue boy and wait their turn or do they leave while they still can?
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A group of ecstatic, detached heads resurrected far in the future realising, in horror, that The Future has its own plans for the relics from the past.
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On a cold, dark, winter's evening, a train arrives at the end of the line. One man alights. His only thought is to get home fast but the deserted streets have other ideas.
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Ever gone on a first date? Well, fifteen year old Jamie is about to if only he can dodge the advice-giving relatives and get out of the house in time.
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An entrepreneurial crab has a great idea to make a juicy profit and learns business would be less stressful without the customers.
If you like stories that deal with the extraordinary within the ordinary, aspects overlooked or forgotten, the eye in the everyday then you will enjoy this book.
They waited as the movement got closer and resolved itself in to the movements of different figures walking in ones and twos. By the time those at the front were funnelled through the gap in the spikes, it was clear the number of approaching figures stretched into the thousands. The soldiers looked exhausted. Most were dirty and dishevelled and some wore blood-soaked bandages wrapped around their heads, arms and chests.
“What has happened?” asked Braddle. “Did we win?”
The first man to reach the city staggered passed and ignored his question. He was preoccupied with something on the ground and was oblivious to Braddle and Grenta standing close by. Two soldiers followed him.
“Did we win?” asked Braddle
One of the soldiers stared at him and took a deep breath.
“No…we did not win,” he said. “General Ipitch has ordered a retreat back to the city.”
The soldiers continued on their way.
Not win! How could we not win? It’s a mistake. It has to be a mistake. General Stoo can’t win, can he? If we didn’t win, then what? He and his army will come this way and…take the city. Then what?
Braddle felt sick. Something pulled on his arm. He turned. It was Grenta. She was trembling and had tears in her eyes.
“Braddle we have to go,” she said. “We have to go home.”
He swallowed and pushed the sickness away. Yes, home. We have to get home. Grenta ran first and Braddle followed.
All around them, the soldiers entered the city like the dead searching for a graveyard.