Wednesday, 20 September 2017


Harper bit down on his pencil and watched as a seagull drifted on the breeze against a melancholy blue sky. Despite the sunshine, it looked cold outside and the few people Harper could see were wrapped in coats and scarves and even the occasional hat. He examined the bite marks in the pencil, and then put it back between his teeth and bit on a new part of it, he wondered if he’d been a chipmunk in a previous life. 
He could hear the couple next door going at it. She was yelling at him about something or other whilst he was defending himself, with lame excuses and apologies. A cup or glass smashed against the wall and the word bastard yelled. 
Harper bit on a virgin bit of pencil, half his brain wanted the shouting to stop. It took him back to his own childhood when he used to hide under his covers as his parents verbally destroyed each other before a crisp crack of skin on skin followed by a slammed door would signal the end of the argument. Then gentle sobs would disturb the silence.  Harper would lay there wondering if to go down to comfort his tearful mother, but he never did. Instead, he wrapped the duvet around his ears and forced himself to sleep. Then, one day the door slammed and never reopened. But this time, it was his mum who had gone. 
The other half of his brain was quite happy to hear the argument next door progress. Don would never lay a finger on Maria, but he would slam the door and disappear for an hour or two. 
“Get out, get out you bastard,” he heard Maria yell. 
Harper watched as Don stormed away, getting his phone out of his jeans pocket, no doubt dialling the lover that had caused the argument in the first place. Harper put his pencil down and went to the bathroom where he took a mouthful of Listerine, he swilled and swished and spat, noting the traces pencil paint in the sink. Then, he opened his front door and went into the bedroom and waited. 
It had started six months ago after the first row. He remembered his sobbing mother and decided that he couldn’t leave another woman in tears, so knocked on the next door to offer a shoulder to cry on. Maria had trembled in his arms and left a wet stain on his t-shirt but then she kissed him. Apparently, revenge was a dish best served passionately. 
He heard the front door click and then felt the warmth of Maria’s body on him. He returned her kisses and fumbled with her loose clothing. Soon they were one. 

Don't forget, my two novels, Maggie's Milkman and Extraordinary Rendition are both available to buy as physical books  So, if you fancy owning one of my novels, click on the links below and get your credit card out :-). Signed copies available from the author. 

Maggie's Milkman

Extraordinary Rendition.

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