Conor Thackray

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2020

Stories (20)

20 Stories

346 karma pts

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“It's Getting Foggy Inside” by Conor Thackray

“Can I tell yuh something? I always ‘ated cricket. God, if our Dad ‘eard me say tha’. I’ve not told you about this already ‘ave I?... Oh good, do tell me if I’m goin’ on. We used to ‘ave one of them ‘ouses which were built befor’t war so they ‘ad cellar, y’know fuh coal n that. It were a bit leaky in’t corner, and me mam used to keep us meat down there on ‘ooks so it were chill’d. Anyway, our Dad wanned boys bu’...

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“The River Between Worlds” by Conor Thackray

“I know what you’re thinking,” George droned drunkenly across the walnut desk of his cabin, as a travel clock slid gently from side to side in time with the gentle waves. The fresh water had run out about three days ago and now there was only ale to drink. It was the only thing that stayed fresh enough, “You’re thinking that you should never have come here. That you should have never agreed to come on this doome...

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“I've been Thinking” by Conor Thackray

Sometimes an idea spreads like a fire in the mind. We even hear it called, literally, ‘The Spark of Inspiration’. But some ideas don’t start as sparks, or twinkles in the eye. They begin as a shadow in a corner of your mind that you try to leave unattended. But as the sun goes down they get longer, bigger, scarier. Sometimes. And when the light’s all gone, they’re everything. “Jemma,” Lifting my ...

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“One fine night” by Conor Thackray

She arrived in a cold gasp of fog onto sloping grass in a church’s shadow. The church was built at the top of a mound with a view across the old town between swaying birch trees, that roared in the cold night air. The streets at the foot of the knoll were cast in an orange light, and children wandered from door to door all dressed in costumes. “Ah Darling here you are!” She turned around sharply,...

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“Keep out your dead” by Conor Thackray

Since the undertaker was now pushing up roses in his own garden, it fell to me to go lock up the gates and circle the grounds with the rectory candle lantern in my father’s large winter cassock. The Graveyard was closed, to the living and the dead and the church hadn’t conducted a proper burial now for over a month. My father was concerned that rising anxiety among locals, since the plague had arrived in our village, mig...

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Author bio

I'm an aspiring author, inspired by my wonderful wife and three children to stay creative, and keep writing. I have turned my hand to swords, dice, a guitar, a microphone and now it is time to pick up the pen (Or, more accurately, put fingers to keys).