Charles Corkery

“FEAR-NO FEAR” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #206

FEAR-NO FEAR “The life that I have Is all that I have And the life that I have is yours The love that I have Of the life that I have Is yours and yours and yours…” The above formed part of a an encrypted call signal, known as a fist. It was used to identify the wireless operator, calling England from Occupied France during World War Two. Previously, phrases from well known poems had been utilised but the Germans were easily able to copy them so new phrases were created instead. This particular phrase was provided to a woma...

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“THE PRIVILEGE OF RANK” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #206

THE PRIVILEGE OF RANK The four sat around the fireplace in the impressive old library enjoying talking about old times; the closest of friends. Outside, the wintry rain was lashing down furiously, trees swaying noisily back and forth in the fierce North Yorkshire gale and it felt good to be a part of this quartet, inside, warm and cosy. The house had been in Freddie’s family for generations and, now, it was Frederick DuBarry Winthrop the 3rd who had inherited the old place and the baronetcy that came with it. His companions had b...

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“MAYCEE'S HOME” by Charles Corkery

MAYCEE'S HOME Maycee had to do something ‘bout that smell. It had been okay for several days but, lately, a sharp , sour odour would catch her unawares when she came upstairs to use the bathroom. That afternoon, she’d walked to the 7-11 and returned with a whole bunch o’ room fresheners; the ones you peeled the front off and laid them wherever. The smell from Momma’s room was the worst. At least, it was so far. Them deodorisers sure helped but she still had to lay a wet towel at the base o’ the bathroom door and ...

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“ON A CLEAR MOONLIT NIGHT” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #205

ON A CLEAR MOONLIT NIGHT The brightness of the full moon illuminated the field below as Matt stared down from the top of the ridge. The brilliance was incredible; as if a cordon of floodlights had been switched on so clearly could he see everything. The four cows tethered by their feet, lowing crazily in an effort to escape their imprisonment and, high in the trees, the net threshing back and forth as the captive attempted to dislodge the trap from where it had catapulted once sprung. Matt, accompanied by the two Brazilian s...

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“BREAKING POINT” by Charles Corkery

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #205

BREAKING POINT 6.30am -slop out. 7.30am -breakfast. 8am -lock up. 10am -roll call. 10.30am -yard recreation. 12 noon -lunch. 1pm -yard recreation. 3pm -internal association. 5pm -supper. 6pm -lock up. 8pm -lights out. Get used to it. This is it. Your daily routine for the rest of your life. Yes, it’s monotonous. Yes, it could destroy your will to live. But you’re stronger than this; you’re unbreakable. Unbreakable. Keep saying it. Un-fucking-breakab...

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“BROTHERS IN ARMS” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #204

BROTHERS IN ARMS The fusillade of shots sent the two Curry brothers scampering back into the empty saloon. Virgil, the eldest, crawled behind the bar. His brother, Josh, known as Kid, rolled away to the right of the swing doors. “Jesus, Virg, there must be a dozen o’ them bastards out there”. “You hit?” “No. Leastways, I don’t think so. You?” “Just a nick; left hand. Damn, it stings”. Kid checked himself over. One bullet had pierced his left boot; clean hole-but had missed his foot. “What now, Virg...

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“EVEN DROIDS HAVE FEELINGS” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #204

EVEN DROIDS HAVE FEELINGS Jasper White was a drifter. Always had been, trying his hand at most things without any luck -poker, mineral prospecting, ranching -always drifting from town to Texan town. Back then, in ’45, it seemed like most o’the bad men had chosen to hang out in the vast state o’ Texas and, if’n they didn’t get ya, the booze and diseases from poxed up whores, surely would.  Yessir. But, somehow, ol’ Jasper just drifted through all that, flitting from place to place, avoiding any&nbs...

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“BAD LANDS” by Charles Corkery

BAD LANDS I swear, I never met a braver or truer man than Ranger Seth Cooper and it was my honour to ride ‘longside o’ him. First time I saw him, he was facing down four liquored up, armed men whose bravery came from a bottle and I observed all o’ this from the first floor window of an Amarillo saloon and whorehouse where I looked down upon the faces o’ those four men with my rifle trained on the ringleader. Of course, one by one those fellas started to realise that, though they outnumbered Ranger Seth that day, it was highl...

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“THE ESTABLISHMENT” by Charles Corkery

Detective Inspector Nigel Rose sat in his boss’s office on the top floor of Tintagel House, having explained the sensitive situation in full. Superintendent Mal Fuller, a northerner who didn’t like controversy at the best of times and hated the cesspit that was London, shook his head in disbelief. “Is she absolutely sure, Nige?” “Incontrovertible proof, sir”. “Hell’s bells! This is a very delicate one, I don’t need to tell you”. “No, Sir. That’s why I brought it straight to you. What do we do now?’ “Well, let’s not get ahead of our...

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“UNCOMMON GROUND” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #203

UNCOMMON GROUND The old man sat alone, unkempt, unshaved, on the promontory, looking out to sea. It was an uncommonly fine day and the sun shone brightly as he stared off into the distance watching the launch as it slowly approached. His turn for a fortnight on the mainland. At first, despite the differences in age, they’d been friends. Though they shared no common ground, apart from their jobs, they had both gone out of their way to be polite, make conversation, not antagonise each other in any way and he, Jonah, had found that cohab...

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“THE LAST DANCE” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #203

THE LAST DANCE “Welcome, welcome. Come in and make yourselves comfortable. The others are all here”. Joseph Rosenblatt, dressed in his finest clothes, ushered his final two guests into the apartment. “Naomi, it is thirty degrees, this evening. You feel you had to wear your fur coat?” “Oh, I just love to have an occasion to put it on. I can’t help it”. “Well, tonight, you have chosen the right occasion. This is a special evening as you will see”. As Joseph slipped the coat off Naomi’s shoulders, he cast a g...

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“MISSED OPPORTUNITY” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #202

MISSED OPPORTUNITY In September, 1913, at the age of eighteen, I left home to study art in Vienna. Ah, Vienna! Looking back now, decades later, it’s almost impossible to describe just how joyous a city it was in those days and I thrilled to be a part of it though my very meagre budget made it difficult to enjoy much of the delights on offer. I had enrolled at Akademie Schulz and, initially, I was intimidated, believing that my work inferior to my fellow classmates but, during intervals, I was able to sneak glances at their works and disc...

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“FRIENDS AND LOVERS” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #202

FRIENDS AND LOVERSHe was sure that this was the right way. It seemed familiar. The soft, damp moss beneath his feet, the weeds growing through the cobbles of this, once much used, boreen. Either side of him, the blackberry bushes, bearing their lush, ripe fruit, formed natural fences to the fields that lay on either side. Some memories never faded. He struggled slightly as the narrow lane began to rise gently the closer he drew to the end. Stopping momentarily, he crouched over and breathed heavily until he was ready to continue on...

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“THE TALENT'S THE BOSS” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #201

THE TALENT’S THE BOSS Bobby-Lee sat alone in the dressing room, the show long over, the crowds that had screamed for the Pussycat Imps long since dispersed, the other Imps departed having barely wished her farewell or good luck. As she stared around her at the incredible amount of mess left behind, it was difficult to come to terms with the fact that never again would all four of them perform in front of their fanatical fans. This backstage area was really such a small room, yet the Imps had left such a shambles of clutter for somebody else ...

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“WHAT'S IN A NAME?” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #200

WHAT’S IN A NAME? P.J. Flaherty, CEO of Dunphy, Murphy, Kilpatrick and Sons, the blue chip Irish American banking firm that occupied an entire block in the Financial District of Downtown Boston, slowly caressed his putter and watched as his golf ball rolled perfectly into the awaiting cup laid out on the expensive, Axminster carpet of his executive office. “Yes. Master shot!" His intercom buzzed. “P.J. I have Francis Mullins, Level 2, requesting a moment”. “Thank you, Bridget. Two minutes”. Leisurely, P.J. (short for Patric...

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