Sun, Sea and a Cup of Tea – Finale.

A few days ago I reposted a story I wrote  about a woman on holiday, called Sun, Sea and a Cup of Tea. See here:

A multiple word prompt story – Sun, Sea and a Cup of Tea.

Well it didn’t seem finished and a few people told me that it needed some more, so I wrote part two here:

Sun, Sea and a Cup of Tea – Part Two

But it still wasn’t finished. So here is the finale.

Sun, Sea and a Cup of Tea – Finale

Jane walked down the street from the apartment complex to the main part of town. She heard a couple of guys wolf whistle as she went past. She smiled to herself. Her fifty-year-old body may not be as slim as it used to be, in fact curvaceous would have been a kinder description, but clearly, she still had it. Then she heard footsteps behind her. Angela was walking a long behind her wearing a white sarong dress over her black bikini with a black wide-brimmed hat. She wore stylish espadrille wedges on her feet that gave her extra height. Jane felt a pang of jealousy as she realised the wolf whistles hadn’t been for her at all but for Angela’s stunning twenty-something year old figure instead.

Angela walked up to her and gave her a warm smile. “Hi Jane, are you headed into town too? Do you mind if I join you?”

Continue reading Sun, Sea and a Cup of Tea – Finale.

Sun, Sea and a Cup of Tea – Part Two

A couple of days ago I wrote a short story about a woman on holiday, called Sun, Sea and a Cup of Tea. See here:

Well it didn’t seem finished and a few people told me that it needed some more, so here is part two.

Part Two

Jane opened the door to her apartment. To her relief her husband had managed to wake up, all by himself and judging by the sound of the shower was preparing himself for the day ahead. It was twenty minutes past ten and he’d been asleep since eleven o’clock last night. She had heard practically every snore. She was beginning to worry that he’d gone into some kind of hibernation. She’d always suspected he was at least half bear, he was hairy enough from the neck down. When they’d met he had a good head of hair too, but that had since deserted his head like snow deserted the mountains in summer. He claimed that thirty years of marriage to her had caused it to fall out.

She walked over to her open suit case and took out her travel kettle. She knocked on the bathroom door. “Who is it?” Her husband called out. Who does he think it is? She wondered.

Putting on a bit of an accent she replied “It’s Lolita your Spanish maid can I come in and squeeze your bottom?”

Continue reading Sun, Sea and a Cup of Tea – Part Two

A Multi Prompt Short Story – Happy Families.

I thought it high time that this story I wrote a couple of years ago received another airing, particularly as the Word of the Day today is Incandescent.

This story was written in response to the following word prompts.

Word of the Day: Woebegone


Shery’s One Daily Prompt: Scorn

Today’s things are: great-aunt, ant, plant

Happy Families

It had been a while since I’d been to the family homestead. It was a rambling clapperboard house that at one time housed two extended families. Now only Mother lived there all alone. Walking up the pathway I passed plant after plant that was withering and dying in that long hot summer. It had been months since we’d had any rain.

The door creaked just like it always did as I pulled it open and walked into the relative coolness of the dark hallway. It smelt of wood and beeswax. All the wooden furniture was polished to an incandescent shine. I felt a bite on my ankle. Looking down I saw a solitary ant climbing my bare leg, which I promptly squashed beneath my fingertips. The long hot dry summer had brought out a lot of ants lately. God, how I’ve prayed for rain.

“Mama, where are you? It’s me Laura” I called out, my voice echoing around the practically empty dwelling.

“Laura, is that you? I’m upstairs dear, In Aunty’s room.”

There were a lot of bedrooms upstairs that were practically untouched, except for dusting, since the previous occupants had departed. Her Great-Aunt Sally had lived in the bedroom at the very end of the landing and for the last few years of her life had rarely left it. It was still full of all her knickknacks and memorabilia.

I walked in to find my Mother sitting on the bed crying. I sat next to her and put my arm around her.

“There, there Mama. Great Aunt Sally’s been dead twenty years, why are you carrying on so?”

“No, it’s not that. There was a storm last night and it blew over that old tree, the one that your Grandfather planted not long after he bought this place.”

I still couldn’t understand why she sounded so woebegone. All this fuss about a tree. I couldn’t help feeling some scorn. It was a lovely tree, but It was only seventy years or so old, not really that old as trees went. I gave Mama another hug, but she pushed me away.

“You don’t understand. There was a body buried there, under that tree. The storm brought it to the surface. It was wrapped in a tarpaulin, but it was unrecognisable. There was a locket with it and in it was this key.”

I looked down at the small, ornate brass key in my Mothers frail old hand.

“What was the key for? It’s too small to be for a door.”

“It was the key to this box. No one could open it when she died but we didn’t think there was anything important in it. Not enough to force it open.”

I remembered the beautiful small box, inlaid with scented sandalwood, that now lay on the floor, open.

Also, on the floor, lying as if it had just fallen from my Mothers hand, was a small leather-bound book. The kind used for keeping a diary or perhaps notes and recipes in.

I reached down and picked up the book. I recognised the highly ornate handwriting from birthday cards I had received as a young child. It was Great Aunt Sally’s writing.

She had written. ‘Why I killed my Sister today.’

The End.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 15/July/2018

Free Again – My Attempt at a Horror Story.

Seeing as the Word of the Day prompt is HORROR, I thought it was time that this story I wrote back in 2018 got another airing. 



My Friend at Fingers to Sky is taking part in a challenge competition and has thrown out the gauntlet for people to play along with her Prompt.

Genre: Horror

Location: Hill

Object: A Map.

NYC Midnight Challenge: Prompt 1


Well this was my attempt. Like my friend says about herself, I am not at all familiar with the genre. I never read horror books and I never watch horror films. I am scared stiff of them. I am therefore not a very good judge on whether this story I have written actually meets the requirements of being a Horror Story. Please let me know if you think it works.


Free Again

I found the map among my Aunts things. Mad Aunt Alice, she’d been cruelly called by my Father. Growing up it had just been my Father, Aunt Alice and me. Aunt Alice had looked after me tenderly, but she never spoke. My Father would order her about, shout at her and even hit her, but she never spoke.

My father always called her Mad. Said that she wasn’t ‘all there’. She’d been like that since a childhood game with an Ouija board had gone wrong. The Devil’s got her tongue and he won’t give it back. That was what my Father said. I never paid no mind to what he said though. He was drunk most of the time. Aunt Alice was always kind to me. She made me dinner and breakfast. Washed my clothes and made sure I went to school. Father went to work then came home and drank. His exercise usually involved smashing something or punching Aunt Alice. She never said a word.

Then one day Father grabbed me by the skirt and pulled me towards him. I screamed at him to let me go. Before I knew it, the Knife had appeared in Aunt Alice’s hand and my father’s head had rolled across the floor. I will never forget his eyes. They put Aunt Alice into one kind of institution and me into another.

Continue reading Free Again – My Attempt at a Horror Story.

Life’s calling card.

She woke up, her alarm was ringing.

She’d overslept again. This was the third time this week! 

Luckily, she had only overslept by five minutes and she always allowed enough time to get ready for work. She would have to do something simple with her hair again, no time to blow-dry, just a pony tail. 

Walking into the bathroom she checked her face. 

Was that a new wrinkle? There just above her right eyebrow?

She didn’t remember seeing it before. She had a few frown lines on her forehead, but who didn’t when they’d passed the thirty mark?

After her shower she slapped on a bit of extra moisturiser, just to try to keep the lines at bay. She also promised herself a spa day in the not too distant future.

Her commute into work wasn’t remarkable. The usual traffic, the usual impatient honking of horns. The idiot who cut into her lane without any indication. Why did people insist on driving without bothering to let others know what they are going to do? They’ll end up on a slab one day in the morgue where she worked.

She worked as a mortician at the local morgue. Not a glamorous job but it was stable, there will always be a constant supply of customers, that was for sure. 

As she arrived at work her colleagues all greeted her. It may surprise people to know that people who work in the morgue were actually quite upbeat and friendly. She got on with almost everyone. Of course, she spent most of her time with the customers and they couldn’t answer back or get on her nerves. She probably had the best customers of any company anywhere in the world! 

Stan came up to her to give her the news.

“Morning Jenny, you’ve got two new ones come in this morning. Do your best to a make them look nice for their families. One is a lady in her early 90’s who died in her sleep. The other’s a girl in her early twenties, had an overdose, poor thing. See what you can do.”

She went into her studio and looked at her customers. What a contrast.

One was as wrinkled as a burlap sack. There wasn’t much skin that wasn’t wrinkled.

The other was as perfect as a body could be. Not a blemish on it. The face didn’t have a single wrinkle. It was flawless. 

And yet, here was a woman who had lived a long life. Who had had children and grandchildren and who, judging from the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth, must have enjoyed a good laugh. The wrinkles were like life’s calling card etched on her body for all to see.

And there was this poor, lovely, unblemished girl who had not really had much of a chance to live life to the full. 

She realised who she most wanted to be like.

Never again would she look at a wrinkle in the same way.

It wasn’t a curse, each was a little blessing.

She was lucky to have her wrinkles. So many people didn’t live long enough to get them. 

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 16/March/2018

via Daily Prompt: Wrinkle

50 Word Thursday #111 – A World without the Word.

And the words: “Vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule.”
― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

He glanced out of the narrow window at the ships anchored in the harbour. This was the scene that had greeted his eyes every day of his life and it had inspired him to write several novels. Many of his books had Piracy as the main theme. He’d written many of the men who had come off those ships into his novels, embellished to represent a pirate king or a kidnapped victim.

The book he was currently working on was particularly challenging. It was a story or revenge and books about vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule. However, he also knew that brevity was key. People’s attention spans nowadays were shorter and novels were often half the size they used to be. He decided to use a mechanism that was the retreat of many authors faced with this problem. He would use flashback to condense a long time into a handful of pages.

He began writing furiously and with a smile he placed his pen down at the end. He knew he’d penned another great novel. If only there were enough people around who could actually read. The Covid pandemic had killed all the teachers.

[200 Words]

This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge.

I have also included the following word prompts:

50 Word Thursday # 109 – Without an Apple.

and here are the words:
‘Although it was a simple thing to be doing, something strange was happening.’
– Paulo Coelho – The Valkyries

I’d decided to make the most of my freedom. I’d no lectures today, no tutorials or dreary sessions in the library reading about Einstein’s theory of relativity. This was my first real day of freedom since lockdown had ended and that deadly virus, so persistent, had finally rescinded to controllable levels.

It had left it scars. I still avoided crowds where possible and I don’t think any of us would ever feel the same again.

Today I went to Greenwich to bask in the history or my scientific forebears. I’d wandered around the observatory where scientists of old had gazed through their telescope and seen the glories of a distant planet.

Then I sat and had a picnic on the green.

I gazed in dreamy contemplation across at the building in the distance topped by a triangle, really a pyramid and although it was a simple thing to be doing, something strange was happening.

It seemed as though those scientists who had walked this ground were passing on their knowledge and mixed with my own studies of theoretical physics I suddenly had a ‘Eureka’ moment and, without an apple like Newton, I had worked out how to travel through time!.

[200 words]

This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday challenge posted last week. Today is the last opportunity to take part.

I have also included the following word prompts:

50 Word Thursday # 107 – An Obscure Dream

And the Words: “It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.” – H.G Wells, The Time Machine

She woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. The dream had been so real. She shook her boyfriend awake, who was snoring beside her and described her dream.

“I dreamt I saw a church with an obscure 8-sided tower. A priest came running after me and told me it was the end of the world. People started screaming and the sky turned black.”

Her boyfriend responded sarcastically, “It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.”

The next day they left their hotel room to explore the town and walked down a side street they’d never been before. Her boyfriend held her hand tightly, in his overly protective way that she hadn’t made an issue of, but she stared back in amazement at the obscure 8-sided church tower and she knew what was going to happen next.

[150 Words]

This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge:

And I also included the following word prompts:


The Blushing Bride – A Short Tale

I’m Reposting this story as today’s Word of the Day is Groom

She’d had her doubts from the beginning. 

Henry had seemed to be the one. At least he had at first. 

Henry was the same age as her, they were both approaching their thirtieth birthday which they planned to celebrate together as part of their honeymoon in Barbados. 

They had been together for seven years and had been introduced through mutual friends. He had a high position at the Bank. Not quite on the board but not far removed.

Apparently, he was a bit of a financial whizz-kid. 

He was just over six-foot-tall and when she’d first met him he had a big mop of brown hair, which had now retreated to the fringes of his head. 

His bright blue eyes were the same as they always had been. They always seemed amused. Sometimes she felt they were laughing at her somehow.

He’d played rugby and polo when she’d first met him, but now played golf every Thursday afternoon and most Sunday’s. She’d had to fight hard to ensure that they didn’t have their honeymoon at a golf resort, which had been Henry’s preference. Actually, to say she had to fight wasn’t at all fair to Henry. Once she had pointed out that she did not enjoy golf and didn’t want golf to be part of their honeymoon in any shape or form, he did accept it. He just hadn’t realised that she did not feel the same way about his beloved sport. 

She’d had her doubts from the beginning because from the beginning there had been someone else. Steve. 

Steve was actually Henry’s cousin and one of his best friends. He was slightly taller than Henry, slightly beefier and he still played rugby and didn’t seem to like golf that much at all. 

Steve had similar blue eyes to Henry but didn’t seem to have that same mocking look about them. He also had dark hair, almost black. The typical Tall, dark and handsome guy. 

She’d met them both at the same party but whereas everyone had said how great Henry was, people had warned her off Steve. “Oh, he’s a bit of a Ladies man he is. Best be wary of that one dear”. Somehow that seemed to just add spice to the mix. 

Over the years she had seen Steve quite a bit, he’d often been staying at Henry’s parents’ large house in Hampstead when she’d been invited down for the weekend. 

One year they had all spent Christmas together, Her and Henry, Henry’s sister Abigail and his parents. Two weeks together in a large rented house in Cornwall. 

It was then that the real affair started. She and Steve had had the house to themselves, the others had all gone for a long walk along the front, but she hadn’t fancied it. Steve initially had joined the others but had doubled back. She had hoped he would. It was brutal lust but she had enjoyed every minute of it. She supposed she should have been ashamed, but somehow, she wasn’t at all. Of course, that was only the first time. There had been many times since then, until Steve was given a job, by the same bank that Henry worked for, strangely enough, to run their branch in northern Spain. Apparently, he spoke Spanish fluently and was just the man they were looking for. She remembered cursing fate at the time. That had been six months ago. 

She had been very discrete about the whole thing. No one suspected a thing. She was sure of that. Henry’s Mother, who was Steve’s Aunt, would have definitely changed her attitude, she was devoted to her son and her usual rather gushy friendliness would have been replaced by frosty coldness or outright aggression if she suspected anything at all. 

Her future father-in-law had said something odd to her once. About faithfulness and loyalty being the best attributes in a wife. 

There was only one person she had confided with. Her sister. She had told her, because somehow, she had noticed something. Strange how some people are so perceptive. Her sister was not considered bright or academic like her. She had been the one who had gone to university to study photography and had started her own successful photography business while her younger sister was always considered a little slow. She was introverted and shy but had obviously noticed something and had challenged her about it. It had actually seemed quite a relief to tell somebody about it. Sarah hadn’t made much of a fuss. Which had surprised her because she had always been a little miss goody two shoes and was always running off to tell tales about her to Daddy. She did tell her what she was doing was wrong and actually asked her what she thought of Henry’s feelings in the matter. She’d said she didn’t really care what Henry thought, what he didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt him any. 

She had thought a lot about this wedding for some time, whether she really wanted to go through with it. Then not long ago, two things happened that made her decide that marrying Henry was actually the best move she could make. Firstly, Henry was appointed as a junior member of the board. One of the youngest in the bank’s history, So Henry had told her. This meant a huge increase in his salary plus quite a few perks, like some company shares and also free membership of one of the more prestigious golf clubs in London. That was nice for Henry, but she wasn’t exactly dreading the lifestyle she could lead. She could sell her business and live like a queen. 

The other factor in her decision was receiving an e-mail from Steve. She had kept in touch with Steve over e-mail as she’d hoped that when he next came back to England they could arrange to meet. Steve’s e-mail was quite brisk. He’d met a lovely Senorita called Conchita and they were getting married and he’d hoped she’d be very pleased for them both. 

Henry had invited Steve and his new wife to their wedding. She’d made sure they were seated at the back though. 

Anyway, today was the day. Her mother and sister were helping her with her make-up and getting into the Swarovski crystal wedding gown. The morning passed very quickly as people fussed over her. In next to no time she was seated in the Rolls Royce next to her father who looked at her with moist eyes. If only he knew what she felt inside. The cold emptiness. 

Then she arrived at the church and her father was walking her down the aisle to the sound of Wagner’s Bridal March. There was Henry, her Groom, at the altar, wearing his smart and expensive morning suit with the lilac waistcoat. He looked at her apprehensively. His eyes lacked that amused glint they usually contained. 

The Vicar began. “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together Henry Michael Rainsford and Laura Samantha Simmonds in holy matrimony. Into this holy estate, these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

Henry then turned to her and spoke. “Actually, I do. I am sorry Laura but I can’t go through with this. It is a total sham. You don’t love me and now I am pretty sure you never have and certainly never will. I loved you very dearly and for that reason, I have hoped you would eventually fall in love with me. I know all about you and Steve but I hoped that by sending him away you would then fall in love with me. I know now that this is not the case. 

Goodbye Laura.”

With that, he turned and walked away down the aisle. 

Her sister actually ran after him and they left the church together.

She could feel the embarrassment rise up in her. The blush coming into her cheeks. 

 And she stood there, ‘the Blushing bride’, Only she wasn’t going to be a bride after all.

The End

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 19/March/2018

via Daily Prompt: Blush

50 Word Thursday #106 – Step Right Up

And the words:
“I stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.” – Louisiana Longshot – Jana DeLeon

“Step right up folks and shake hands with the star of our show” She said.

When it comes to making a fool of myself, I’m a pundit.

I stood right up and she laughed.

“I stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.” 

Behind me a queue was forming.

[50 Words]

This was written for the 50 word Thursday Challenge

I have also included the following word prompts: