quaintfungus's profile

Terry’s jaw dropped open his eyes bulged and a queer choking sound issued from his throat. He sat stunned at the breakfast table, while his loving wife pegged their washing on the clothesline. As the wind fought to tear his underwear from her grasp, she took a wooden peg from her teeth and pinned them safely in place. A piece of bacon escaped from his mouth, it hung precariously upon a strand of saliva before abseiling onto his pajamas. His face slowly turned a subtle shade of purple as the s...

My father was killed by Lego when I was nine years old. The way I found out about it sticks in my mind like a scratched record, even twenty years on I can remember every detail. On that day I woke up and came downstairs to find my mother on the couch; her head resting on her shirt, livid creases on her cheek, here eyes red. I can tell she has been up all night. My father hadn’t been home for three nights and she had spent most of that time going out of her mind. My uncle is in the kitchen mak...

Sometimes the small things in life are the ones that make the biggest impact. My father was killed by a piece of Lego when I was only nine years old. Looking back after twenty or more years, it is the details that still stick in my mind. I remember the pattern on my mothers face. She had been sitting up waiting for my Dad’s return and fallen asleep, her head resting on the sleeve of her cardigan. My father had not been home for three nights. In my memory she stands in the lean-to kitchen, sta...

Stinking Albert was walking his dog Hansen on Sunday morning. It was so early that the village was still stunned with sleep. As the Sun lingered in its cloudy bed, the Moon watched its reflection dancing in the dark liquid; that seeped from under the corrugated steel shutters of Harold Peabody’s garage. Hansen was licking at the gathering pool in the gutter. Albert pursed his lips and whistled. “There is something wrong here feller. I think we better alert the appropriate authorities.” He pul...

The truth about hide and seek My brothers are missing. We were supposed to play together today. Those were the very words my mother used before she turned us out this morning. Rat and Phil are my older brothers. They are thirteen and fourteen, I am only nine so they don’t care to hang round with me much. “Let’s play hide & Seek!” they said grinning like hyenas. “You’re it!” shouted Rat. “Stand there and count to 5,000.” That said they both turned and ran. They had stolen a bottle of cider fro...