“You just need to have faith,” my parents told me. I shrugged. Whatever. Continue reading “You just need to have faith – a short story in less than 100 words”
I have periodically dabbled in illustrations of stories, combining art-me and writing-me. I have thought I wanted to be an illustrator but I know now I don’t. Continue reading “Colin’s Party – Illustrated short story, versions, 1 and 2”
In the context of “I am going through my folder marked ‘stories’ and finding short stories I have written that are not dreadful, but by no means are they great, and publishing them because why not”- I give you this one from 2005. I do not remember writing this at all.
Andy the Ant
Andy the Ant was very much liked by his friends who lived in The Cupboard, but they all agreed that he was a little odd.
“I’m not odd!” he argued with Zen the Butterfly, while sticking his shoes to his feet with a bit of adhesive tape.. “This is perfectly normal. I just broke my shoelaces, and my shoes keep falling off.”
I wrote a lot of stories about Colin the Weevil, including a novella, which I may actually tidy up and publish. I have illustrated some of the stories I’ve written – occurs to me I’ve never published any of it. Huh. Must get on that.
This was the story that started it. Again, 1999 or so. Based on Colin and Andy, who I clearly was hanging out a lot with back then.
Colin the Weevil
Colin was a weevil who lived in the Flour Barrel in the Kitchen Cupboard.
He was obsessed with flour.
AAAAAnd I’m gonna put this behind a cut, as it’s gross.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
I remember writing this (1999?) and I remember being really happy with it. Now I share it with the internet, perhaps foolishly.
Arthur Berth the After Birth
Arthur Berth came from very humble beginnings. Mr and Mrs Berth worked in a refuse reclamation facility in Notting Hill.
This was based on a manager I particularly despised when I worked in the trains.
John the Dung beetle
John liked being a dung beetle.
He smoked a dung pipe. He slept in dung. He lived in dung. He had the personality of dung.
One day he got eaten by a cow, and was turned into dung.
It suited him immensely.
Another Angus Oblong style short surreal story. Murry was my friend’s nickname and I have no idea about the rest of the context.
Murry the Puddle
Murry was a small, dark puddle.
It would sit in gutters all day and splash you as you walked past it.
It listened to boy bands.