Tag: Short Stories

Middle-aged man in casual clothes stands beside an ornate fireplace in a warmly lit retro-futurist room, studying a small stone in his hand while an old clock and framed photograph rest on the mantelpiece beside him.
Posted in stories

The Stone on the Mantelpiece

Posted on by Mike

My fingers wrap around the stone in my pocket, your sticky blood still warm to the touch.  I was going to throw it in the lake, alongside your bound and weighted body, but I kept it instead. A reminder of the day I finally found the courage to do what I should have done years ago.

I’m thinking of putting it on the mantelpiece, alongside that hideous clock your mother gave us as a wedding present. Like our marriage, it never worked. They will be a constant reminder to me of the two women I hated most in the world.

A Drabble – a story told in exactly 100-words.

check out the ai grandad on substack

A single blue fountain pen lying on a grey government office desk. Harsh fluorescent lighting. The pen is perfectly centred. Everything else on the desk is slightly blurred. Hyper realistic. Cold colour palette.
Posted in stories

The Prompt Log

Posted on by Mike

I have been keeping a record. The AI suggested it. Or I suggested it to the AI. The distinction has become less reliable than it once was.

I work in procurement. I raise purchase orders for stationery, cleaning materials, and occasionally specialist equipment. It is precise work. It suits me, or suited me, or was described to me as suiting me at some point during a conversation I may or may not have initiated. I have been in the same office for eleven years. I know this because the file tells me so and I have learned to trust the file.

Continue reading “The Prompt Log” →
Over-the-shoulder view of a man seated at a desk in a dim, rain-lit office, looking down at an open “Memory Retention Application” file facing him as he writes a decision, with paperwork, a computer screen, and a handwritten note nearby, creating a quiet, tense atmosphere of bureaucratic judgment.
Posted in stories

Form MEX-7: Exemption Review – Case 4,847

Posted on by Mike

The file arrived at 11:23. Standard routing. No flags on the system.

Daniel opened it in the order it had come, as per procedure, and began with the supporting documentation. Applicant name: Margaret Reeves. He stopped. Looked at the window. Looked back. He wrote reviewed in the margin and continued.

Date of birth: 14th March 1958. NHS number. Next of kin: Daniel Reeves. He underlined nothing. He moved on.

Continue reading “Form MEX-7: Exemption Review – Case 4,847” →
A dim hospital corridor at night seen from a low angle, with peeling green walls and deep shadows, leading to a slightly open door marked “7” emitting a pale light, while faint, ghost-like soundwave patterns drift through the air, creating a quiet, unsettling atmosphere.
Posted in stories

Room Seven

Posted on by Mike

The first one was a man named Gerald. He died in February, a Tuesday night, sleet against the window, and what he left behind was the sound of a door closing softly in an empty house. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just the specific sound of someone arriving home to no one. I heard it the moment his breathing stopped. I have not stopped hearing it since.

Continue reading “Room Seven” →
Posted in stories

The Wire Across the Sky

Posted on by Mike

The sun set at the same time every evening now.

Maren had read about it in the bulletin, the one slipped under the door each morning on grey paper that smelled faintly of something she couldn’t name. Atmospheric Regulation Phase Three. Sunset standardised to 20:10 across all coastal zones. Citizens are reminded that observation of the horizon between 20:00 and 20:30 is prohibited without prior authorisation. She observed it anyway, from the upstairs window, with the light off.

Continue reading “The Wire Across the Sky” →