Here’s my first of 2018, a darkly comic (hopefully) tale about work, money and oils of all types. Thanks to Cabinet of Heed for publishing it here.


Story From A Song #4

rainy wedding

To celebrate having a little flash fiction tale in a vending machine in Canada, I wrote the fourth in my wildly popular (ahem) Story From A Song series. Guess which tune inspired the story below and leave your guess in the comments. It’s oh-so tricky this time – in fact, the picture probably gives it away…

Sheila pulled back the curtains and her face fell faster than the downpour against her window. ‘It’s raining,’ she sobbed. ‘On my wedding day!’

‘Isn’t that ir…’ began her Mum, about to quote from her favourite song.

‘It’s not! It just isn’t! Don’t say it,’ snarled Sheila, and marched upstairs to put on her dress.

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Space: 1,002,099 AD


Sometimes it’s nice to have a little ‘blog exclusive’, rather than have to click away to another site. So here’s some sci-fi I wrote. Well, sort of sci-fi, anyway.

Commander Kevin ‘Mad Dog’ McManus hurtled through the dark, narrow corridors of the SS Armada, over a million years into deep space. His breathing was cramped and perspiration cascaded from his forehead, obscuring his vision. His laser gun screamed as it vanquished alien after alien, bodies piling up in front of him. He bounded the heap of extraterrestrial corpses, pitched around a corner and ran headlong into disaster. The Alien Queen towered over him, hunger in its eyes, mandibles ready to attack. He realised now it had all been a trap, designed to deliver him straight to her. The Commander looked up fearfully as the Queen’s mouth slid open, putrid saliva running down its jaws. It raised its claws to attack. This was it. It was all over. He crossed himself and waited for the end.

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