Short Story Sunday: A Suitable Man [Part One]

The man at number seven was having his first cigarette of the day. Julia awakened to the sound of his lungs resisting the tobacco fumes. She lay still, not  wanting to disturb Franklin. After a moment, she raised her head and noticed that he was not in his usual spot at the end of the bed. Her phone beeped with the alarm. That would make it the third time this week that she was awake to turn it off. The man at number seven scraped open his kitchen window. She really ought to move.

Short Story Sunday: All the Things We Cannot Say

A car hooter sounded just as Derek closed the door. He walked around the desk and sat opposite her, drumming his fingers on his armrest.

"Do you know why I called you here today?"

She swallowed. Her mind became a roundabout of thoughts until she settled on one possibility.

"We are concerned about you, Sarah. Ever since Jack..." He cleared his throat.

"You can say it." Her voice sounded underwater to her. "Ever since Jack died."

Short Story Sunday: The Curse of Uncle Martin

Benny had delivered the instructions with the drop-off of gherkins. Charlie knew he’d only have to look under the middle jar in the shop-soiled batch to find it. But for some reason, and Benny wasn’t about to speculate why, Charlie was late. He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette and inhaled. He’d give it another five minutes before he radioed base. Best not to ruffle too many feathers while the sun was still up.