Tag: memory
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Gone
The man in the seat in front was picking his teeth with what looked like a straightened-out paper clip. Head bent forward over the green canvas bag on his knees, he appeared to be engrossed in this exercise, even obsessed by it. Randall tapped him on his shoulder, hesitantly. The man turned, still picking, showing…
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The Kingfisher
The white house on the corner had been the village inn, as Ariel remembered it. Now it was someone’s home. There were flowers on the forecourt where benches and tables once stood – that same someone had built a low wall around the flowers and lavished it with white render, butter-thick. The old inn sign…
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Birdie
It’s time I returned to the archives for another short story. Here’s a favorite… Birdie? Yes, I knew Birdie. The third house from the end, on our side of the street; that’s where Birdie lived, and had lived ever since I could remember. He was a part of my growing up, someone I either met,…
Frederick Anderson's Story Blog 