Brian Barrott

“The Right Timing ” by Brian Barrott

 The Right Timing The set of the story is a school on the edge of a bad estate in England. Miss Yates, an ex-pupil is the new deputy head. She has discovered a star pupil, who she is mentoring, however, her extra attention towards her prodigy has created a fit of heinous jealousy from a thuggish learner toward the girl, who by nature is timid.   Several pencils rolled away from a small brunet girl who lay crumpled, bruised, and crying on a white-tiled floor. Above her gaped a half-empty school locker. Most of its contents...

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“Totem” by Brian Barrott

Submitted to Contest #98

Content warning: violence   My mother died due to a botched medical procedure; the intolerable loss and anger drove me to Goa to find myself. However, this intention turned into a life of excess, drugs, and alcohol. Moreover, Depression and violence forced the woman I loved, to leave me alone in Arambol India.   Being constantly stoned and drunk, and having lost all the family I had, returning to England wasn’t in my plans. I was a drug-addled mess and knew I needed help. Anton a new friend I'd met in Goa, recommended the services ...

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“The Ancestorial tree.” by Brian Barrott

Submitted to Contest #90

The Ancestorial tree. Hurt muscles, along with a head that rung, accompanied me to regain consciousness, waves of visual distortion slowly brought into focus a small strange old-fashioned room. Beneath me, a terra cotta tiled floor, formed from a previous visual patch of red. Next to my make-shift bed, large African ornaments surrounded me. As my senses returned pungent smells of burning fire, dust, dark wood, cats, and a caged bird, hit my nose. Looking around, within an antique stone hearth, dancing flames accompanied a staccato of cra...

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“Out on a Limb with Mother India” by Brian Barrott

Submitted to Contest #89

Out on a Limb with Mother India The letter announced its delivery, hitting vinyl-flooring with a loud thud; my instinct told me it harbored bad news. Tightness and anxiety flooded my body. A single tare ripped it open, bold black letters stated, I needed to leave Ukraine. Recoiling in shock I read on. Words like visa and passport restrictions jumped at me. Pacing my living room, I began ringing various immigration departments, it proved fruitless. As hard as I might, to find a way around this situation, it remained undebatable. I had to le...

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“Water Elemental” by Brian Barrott

Submitted to Contest #88

Water Elemental After my encounter, I learned that throughout the recent history of the west. Men wearing dresses with an aversion to women, children, and family, have instructed the general population on morality and religious belief. Moreover, these people promote a system of religion that bears no relation to western etiquette, literary references, culture, customs, phonetics, geographic similarity, or climate. Correspondingly, any objection to Christianity’s Ad Hominem Fallacies, is met with the classic “Tu Quoque Fallacy” (Who are you...

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“The Djinn Ring” by Brian Barrott

Submitted to Contest #87

The Djinn RingMy wife and I laid on the bed of our winter residence in Goa. The doctor looked bemused as our hearts were beating slowly, yet all blood pressure measurements showed hypertension! We kept slipping in and out of consciousness, however, core temperatures remained normal, internally we both felt like a raging fire burnt! Our bruised arms showed black needle marks from endless tests. I looked towards the doctor, checking our blood results for the umpteenth time! A light wrap sounded on our apartment door. It made him lookup. U...

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“Forest Creatures” by Brian Barrott

Submitted to Contest #86

Forest Creatures  I’m frustrated looking at an empty sheet of A-4 its white virgin rectangle taunting me to write. Was my life always so inane and predictable? The page's luminosity of unblemished parchment pulls my mind back to a bedsheet blowing during a wonderful August summer school holiday. This mundane occurrence of mother washing, over time, has become a sorely missed distant place and time of simplicity.  Within moments, I have sat again on my James Captain Motorcycle in the early seventies. The old maroon machines familiar...

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“Opeque Destiny” by Brian Barrott

Submitted to Contest #59

Thick fog dulled every footstep and creaks of leather. All sound became alien, trying to ignore the waves of fear that began to grip me! I turned my horse to face home.  My idea was to follow her hoof prints. However, unable to see our feet made it impossible! Hopes of normal vision became forlorn, putting us in danger! Riding became impossible. We stumbled for hours, following unseen paths that led us deeper, or towards dead ends. Desperation gripped us. We could not find the path-home! Ice saturated my clothes! I tried to shake icicl...

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