A revenge attack on a camping holiday goes wrong and results in murder.

Incinerating Something

“What ‘appened to that wine? I left it ‘ere, jus’ inside the tent.”

To any sober person Lorraine’s question, asked in her drunken Birmingham accent, would have been barely comprehensible but as I was a bit drunk myself I understood her well enough. “I thought you drank it all. Anyway, haven’t you had enough yet? You soak it up like a J cloth.” I said as I rummaged through my pockets for fags and lighter.

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A man revisits the site of the murder he committed when he was ten years old.

Ten Again

“You go first.” Andy’s voice showed no fear but I could see it in his eyes.

I craned my head back and followed the rusting rungs one at a time until I had to step back to see the top, as my neck seemed to be breaking. A lump grew in my throat and I swallowed. “You’re a better climber than me, can’t you go?”

“That’s the whole point, dummy. If you’re in front I can help you, and if you slip I can catch you.”

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A middle-aged man has had enough of his wife and offspring and decides to disappear.

Tender to Solitude

He had done the right thing, thought Barry as he sat on the upturned bucket. The foliage above him was so thick he could see hardly a chink of daylight, but that didn’t bother him – he was happy here, isolated, alone, deserted on this island. It had all become much too much for him – the job that never paid quite enough; the workforce that never got paid quite enough; the wife for whom he could never do enough; and the kids that just didn’t care about him enough.

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A doctor and his long-suffering assistant try to reanimate a dead dog.

The Modern Prometheus

Admiring the doctor, for me, was hard. For most he was an easy man to dislike – draconian, colonial, and despotic were all ingredients to drop into his personality melting pot; along with his love of blood sports which really went against my grain. But, as the cliché goes, progress and morality should never mix.

“It’s not working, dammit!” Proctor brought a real bruiser of a fist down onto the bench, causing instruments and glass vessels to pogo clear of the surface. “Why the hell doesn’t it work?”

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