Category Archives: Story

Travelling Light

I got up yesterday morning and thought of all the things I could do. I had one little phrase in my head. I thought, “I could write from that phrase. I haven’t written for a long time. Perhaps I have a story in me.” I sat down for about 5 hours and wrote. I abandoned the initial phrase, but it helped me to get started, so I am grateful for the one line.
Generally I have no idea where a story is going or where it will end up. About halfway through I thought, “This is for Mel”. Mel is our “Hamilton daughter” and this story is dedicated to her for her birthday. We are really proud of her walking towards Living Light.
BTW in case you are worried about it being a long story (seeing as it took me 5 hours to write) … have no fear, it’s way shorter than the time it took to write. In the middle of that time I did have to have tea, a few times, and also had a lovely visit from our son and his entourage which helped to refill my creative tank.

My Old Jacket

After “eating” at the wrong table (fulfilling Godly needs with unGoldly “food”) I felt inspired to write this. I kind of imagined the feeling of being alone and in a new and different environment instead of an old familiar but stale one. Last night we watched an old episode of the TV program “MacGyver” where he dressed up as a homeless man. I thought that a homeless person’s favourite coat would be like eating at the old familiar table, instead of at the new, better, but unknown one.

Word version of My Old Jacket My Old jacket

Pdf version of My Old Jacket My Old jacket

rtf version of My Old Jacket My Old jacket

 

A Shrivelled Heart

Well, it’s been a long time since I have posted anything at all…. The result of moving towns and changing jobs mostly. Here is a short story. It’s about how our hearts are like mandarins. Well, mostly they are like muscle and so quite different to a fruit and not really the same size or weight or density or anything really. But, in my story, they are like mandarins. I hope you enjoy it. I enjoyed writing it.

 

If you would like audio of stories please leave a comment requesting them and I will see what I can do.

 

Here is the Word version A Shrivelled Heart

The pdf version A Shrivelled Heart

The rtf version A Shrivelled Heart

An uncertain Dream

The origin of this short story is a bit strange, even for me. When I sent it to my daughter to read I wrote

… I woke up this morning with the first phrase of this story in my head and then I ran the dialogue along as I lay in bed… and then I lay around and then ran the same few sentences …. and then I lay around and then I thought I should get up and write them down. Then I wondered where these few sentences were going. So, I wrote a bit and as I went  (a bit like how the story goes)…

Well, it is short and it may be something you could read as you are heading for bed.

 

A Christmas story

I woke up early on Christmas morning, after helping Father Christmas fill stockings, with an idea for a story. I had asked the Lord to lead me over this time and to speak, and we had watched the movie, “inception” a few days before, so I took the idea as possible inspiration – from God… or the movie… or both? I scribbled it down and read to to the family. Of course in the middle I thought my “jokes” were so funny, I struggled to finish it. Later Simon and Cheryl came over and I read it to them too. The vote seemed that I should take it a little further, so enjoy. I should say, I think this story is really for our son, Andrew.

He loves us that much (Christmas 2010)

He didn’t have to come, you know. When he was offered the deal it looked pretty grim – right from the start. Go to another world, an alternate reality, leave your identity behind, go in under cover. And it would have to be alone. They couldn’t send in the usual support crew, the team he was used to. No, if this operation was going to work, it was going to have to be low key – no flashy gadgets, no fanfare, no badges, nothing to show who he really was.

Getting him in there would be quite delicate. The entry point had to be chosen carefully: The Vessel. The timing was critical: The moment. They had a guy on the inside just at the moment who could help set some things up before he went in: Johnny.

After some discussion they agreed he’d have to go in the way those beings all came into that world – just to be sure he really knew what it was like and also to keep things as ordinary as possible.

It would be difficult then. He was so, well, big. He lived large, was the life and soul of the party, whatever he did had significance and now we were going to have to squeeze him into the little slimy muscle in The Vessel.

They’d have to warn her. Try to explain things to her. She’d freak out – she was only a girl in any case, an adolescent, in love – pretty dodgy from the start, but she was tough and she was focused on The Job and she could be trusted.

It was a tough mission to give to her and to Joe, the guy she was in love with, but they needed reliable people to keep him safe, teach him how to be one of them and then to let him do The Mission. Not an easy task; love him as your own, teach him how to be a young one in this new world, allow him freedom to do The Mission.

So the plan came together. Six months after Johnny went in, they sent him in. First they told her – tricky business, but she got the message, even if she was a bit “undone” by it – freaked! Then there was trying to explain the thing to Joe. That was somewhat more difficult. He nearly did a runner. We knew we couldn’t abort the mission, it would have to go full term. After another communique, Joe was back with us; concerned, but committed. He began to get the idea that we would tell him the where, when’s and how’s of it all – on a need to know basis. Basically, “Joe, you need to know us. Know our style, our modus operandi. Trust, relax, we’ll look after you. But keep your eyes and ears open. We’ll be in touch”.

So, that’s how it started; an almost hare-brained suggestion, birthed from love. This crazy mission went according to plan from the “nine months in the tomb to three days in the womb” as Rachael Carson put it. And after that, the fun really started. Nothing was the same every day after that. Thank God we didn’t abort The Mission.