Archive for the 'Short Stories' Category

30
Jan
14

Short Story: Dementia Pugilistica

flat,550x550,075,fI wrote this one back when I was doing that creative writing course at about this time last year. The assignment was to write a character in action and make him or her compelling enough to make the reader want to read more.

The big catch was you had to show and not tell who your character was through their actions and their surroundings. So I wrote this short piece and it’s one of the few that, reading back over it now, I still like.

That’s the problem with writing, you end up hating at least 90% of your own work, if not more, which makes it difficult to stay motivated.

26
Jun
13

Short Story: Steering Lock

Dance.4Thick plumes of smoke churned from his wheels as Lenny popped the clutch, geared up to fifth and braced for impact.

He came to in the lobby in a mess of twisted steel, broken glass and people screaming. His was sheeting blood from a broad gash across his forehead. He wiped the mess from his eyes, grabbed the steering lock from under his seat and shoulder-barged the driver’s side door until it came loose.

The crowd parted like the red sea around him as he lurched across the dancefloor, his face inhuman with rage. He kicked the door to the back office open in a shower of splinters and stood framed in the crimson light.

11
Apr
13

Short Story: The Grindstone Cowboy

mqdefaultI mentioned a few weeks back that I’d enrolled on a 10 week long Creative Writing course run by Getsmarter in the hopes that it would light a fire under my ass to finish my first manuscript by August.

Good news is the course has definitely taught me a few tricks that will be seriously helpful over the next few months. Bad news is with all the course assignments, I have no time to actually write my manuscript.

Same goes for this blog, which is why I came up with the genius idea of posting some of my writing exercises on the site and in this way, killing two birds with one stone – SPLAT!

21
Jun
12

Short Story: Vesuvius

volcano13-iceland-lava-aurora_22340_600x450So I tried my hand at another writing exercise, I get them monthly in the All About Writing newsletters, you should hit this link and subscribe as well if you’re an aspiring writer.

The word limit is 250 per story so you have to keep your writing as lean and mean as possible, which is a great exercise in creative limitation.

Oh and I forgot to tell you guys that my last submission won! I got a R200 book voucher that I donated to The Shine Centre, a place where they teach underprivileged grade 2 and 3 kids how to read.

23
May
12

Short Story: Dead Ringer

mental1It’s been nearly a year since I last posted a short story on this crazy junkyard site, but that’s not because I ain’t been writin’ ‘em!

The following piece is one of my more recent attempts. It’s based on a writing exercise I did a few weeks back that I think turned out pretty well.

I call it Dead Ringer.

Maria woke in a warm sluggish fog of dreamy half-thoughts. She struggled unsuccessfully to open her anvil-heavy eyelids and take in her surroundings. She felt warm and cosy and could taste the damp, earthy scent of fresh pine.

12
Sep
11

The Nod

MariachiThere’s a great spot for all-you-can-eat sushi on Strand called Active Sushi where J-Rab, Jennyjen and I went on Saturday night to eat sushi until we were drunk on it.

We sat at the best table in the place, a quiet alcove of couches where we could sprawl out and watch the escalator below us turning endlessly as it brought people upstairs to eat and back down again into the howling wind outside.

From where we sat we also had a killer view of everyone in the restaurant. The table closest to us had pink helium balloons floating above it and was set for about 20 people, all of them unremarkable in every way. Except one man.

12
Jul
11

Short Story: A Visit From Lenny

Lenny came creeping in the bar in a gigantic coat with the collar up and an old baseball cap pulled down so low I barely recognised him.

His head jerked awkwardly as he scanned the room like it was attached to him with a series of gears that were grinding and cracking under the strain.

For a second he looked like he was about to turn tail and bolt back into the street, half the bar was already staring at him, trying to catch a glimpse of his face and see if it looked anywhere near as dirty and destitute as the rest of him.

31
Mar
11

The Zombies Come On Thursdays

Just before sunrise, they come.

We hear them in the streets, moving sluggishly, bags of bottles clinking as they shuffle hopelessly through the suburbs, hungry.

They take their time, they have all the time in the world, they are dead to us.

We pretend to sleep, but we can hear them outside, rummaging. Eventually our cell phone alarms sound and we get up, make some coffee, turn on the morning news, eat a hearty breakfast, shower, change.

How different our morning routine is from theirs.

We know if we just don’t make eye contact and walk quickly and briskly to our cars, get in, start the engine and leave, chances are they won’t approach us.

23
Aug
10

Guardian Angels

By the time you see the blue lights flashing, it’s already too late.

Thursday night we get pulled over, I’ve had two tequilas and about five beers so basically I’m up shit creek and I fucking know it.

They run through the usual pleasantries of “Have you been drinking, sir?” and “Please get out of your car sir” and all the while all you’re thinking is, “It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. Somehow everything’s going to work out. Just be cool.”

They make you check the nozzle, check it’s freshly sealed in plastic and no one’s tampered with it before they open the plastic and attach it to the breathaliser.

12
Jul
10

Afrikaans Porn – TRANSLATED!

Last week Monday, I shocked and enthralled the Afrikaans world with my epic short story entiteld: Afrikaans Porn. Seconds after posting it, a whole flood of people retweeted the piece, both of them commenting on how I’d reached a whole other level of blogging excellence by catering specifically for the Afrikaans market in such a thoughtful way.

 

 

What was even more amazing than the piece itself was the Google Chrome translation of it, which my main man Civilian sent through to me on the weekend.

Prepare yourself for the awesomeness of this post. Actually no, fuck that. Nothing can prepare you for the awesomeness I’m about to blow your mind away with.