Howard Halsall

“Spaghetti Junction Blues” by Howard Halsall

The late-night drive north, from London to Glasgow, was a journey Paulie knew by heart. It was four hundred miles of motorway with a coffee break at Spaghetti Junction, and a chance to stretch his legs. Paulie joked he could do it blindfolded, and Jenny swore he was daft enough to try. Before the couple got married, they’d travelled together every fortnight to visit his Pa, but after the little ones arrived, Jenny made her excuses and stayed at home. Not that Jenny had fallen out with Paulie’s father, but she said he was a bad influence and ...

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“The Croak Lizard Affair” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #206

Aaaakk! Aaaakk!Wake up, Ricky! Huh! Angie, what’s—-?Shush, said Angie, fumbling for her bedside lamp. Didn’t you hear that? Hear what—-?Listen, Angie hissed, as her striped lampshade cast streaks of bright orange around their bedroom. Up there!Aaaakk! Aaaakk! croaked the lizard from its vantage point above the window.Don’t just lie there, she said, shoving her husband. Kill it!The startled creature cast a brief but dramatic shadow in the low angled light like a pantomime villain making an untimely appearance, hoping in vain that&nb...

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“Steamboat Creek” by Howard Halsall

Pastor Colquhoun and his bevy of assistants had been playing daily to large crowds in Steamboat Creek since the rain arrived three weeks ago. The day I sought refuge from the downpour at his bedraggled venue, I was greeted at the entrance by a stewardess rattling an offertory box. I made an appropriate contribution and entered the packed marquee to encounter the acrid fug of an abattoir’s lairage. The stench of unwashed bodies was so vile that members of the congregation ducked outside now and again, risking a soaking for a lungful of fresh ...

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“Killing Time” by Howard Halsall

Throughout the afternoon, the old man had been there in the background in his sun-bleached work overalls and faded denim shirt. Watching me with a perpetual squint, he followed my meandering course up and down his high street. It was as if he recognised me from a previous lifetime and couldn’t remember my name. He was distant enough to be minding his own business, but present nonetheless and attached to me like a dark midday shadow.  #I’d first encountered him, resting in a tilted back chair, when I stepped down onto the empty plat...

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“Let's Get Lost” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #201

It’s funny how your priorities change as you move through life. In many respects, you learn to become self-reliant and choose your companions with greater care. I never regarded myself as a doggy person, but if not for my new best friend, I’d be lost in a field near Shepton Mallet. #My weekend at the festival started off in high spirits when a group of us from H.R. arrived at the main gates early on Saturday morning. We found our allocated parking space with ease and negotiated our way on foot to the Sticklinch campsite. We’d all read f...

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“The One That Got Away” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #197

During their three-year engagement, Gillian lost count of how many times Archie Abelard had kept her waiting. He’d caused them to miss endless restaurant bookings, the start of every film and party they’d ever attended, plus two holiday flights. By the end of their relationship, Gillian tired of Archie’s lousy excuses despite humouring his hilarious attempts to rescue their social life from certain calamity. #   On Gillian’s wedding day, it was the roadworks on Camden Road that contributed to Archie’s late arrival. The jo...

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“And the snow fell forever.” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #194

What are you fussing about, kiddo? Pops sighed as I rubbed my ski gloves together. He proffered me a shovel and his icy breath hovered between us like a question mark. I thought you loved the snow, he said and chuckled when I forced a weary smile. We’d been shifting snow for over two weeks and the white flakes had descended on our town like the dry skin from a giant’s eczematic scalp.   It was fun on the first day when the snow gathered around the windows and settled in the front garden. It wasn’t deep enough to stop the schoo...

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“Moving Mum” by Howard Halsall

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #192

It had taken them six months of gentle persuasion to convince mum to leave the house she’d lived in for sixty years and relocate to a nursing home on the other side of town. Mum’s Victorian villa with its three floors of generously proportioned rooms had become too large for her to manage. It was a cluttered arcade, displaying keepsakes collected over a lifetime and way beyond her powers to keep clean. It would be unkind if I described mum as a hoarder, but there were knickknacks and oddments littering every horizontal surface and she’d ador...

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“The Beautiful Game” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #190

It was heart-warming to greet everyone outside the crematorium before the service, but to say we were a close family was a stretch. My father’s remaining relatives only communicated by annual greeting card or whenever there was a wedding or funeral. It was so long since I’d seen most of them; I struggled to recognise their faces, let alone remember their names. I’m embarrassed to confess, but I resorted to strategically mumbling my appreciation when they offered their condolences. As they clutched my hand and promised me their undying suppor...

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“On Stranger Shores” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #189

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. The night before Christmas was quiet on the beach but at least there were no more explosions. I never got used to sleeping in our cellar with the noise of collapsing masonry above our heads. My mother feared for our lives every day for two years. She never slept a wink. It was hard on my father, too. He was always on his guard and watchful throughout the night. My sister and I were too young to know what was happening and father never showed his fear, but I could tell. His co...

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“A Perfect Match” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #186

‘Good morning, please take a seat and we can discuss your enquiry--- ’‘I know you’re busy, so thank you for seeing me at such short notice.’‘You’ve come to the right place and having read your CV, I’m sure I can help you.’‘The thing is, I’ve outgrown my position and I need a new challenge.’‘So you’ve got bored at work and you’re considering a new career?’‘Yes, and given my wealth of experience, I’m certain I can succeed in any new role.’‘You’re in a competitive market at the moment, however I can assure you there are plenty of candidates who...

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“The Lost Continent” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #182

Danny Beresford woke up in a good mood, as he did every morning after Penny’s abrupt departure. It was a relief to start the day without her cold shoulder and frosty words. Even before their divorce was completed, she’d earmarked her possessions; family heirlooms, souvenirs from foreign holidays, and all those silly knick-knacks with limited sentimental value. Danny hadn’t contested her choices; he’d always thought the place was far too cluttered. ‘I suppose it’s less to dust,’ his mother had said. ‘But it’s a damn nerve, dear.’ ‘N...

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“Lost for Words” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #177

It was twenty-five years ago when my old pal, left The Big Smoke. Pete had struggled to get regular work as a snapper in London and had nothing to lose by accepting a staff photographer post with a Spanish newspaper. It’s only for a year, he’d said, enjoying one last pint with me the night before he left. You might meet the love of your life, I said You’re joking? A year will be enough for me. Clinking glasses together, we laughed.I couldn’t stand all the excitement, he said, frowning. Neither of us believed it’d wor...

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“Elixir of Life” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #176

In the years before we got a motor vehicle, it was my job to hold Charlie’s reins whilst Papa stowed his precious crates at the rear of our waggonette. Papa trusted me, even with my one healthy arm, because Charlie was docile first thing in the morning. As long as Mama topped up his nosebag, there was no chance of him trotting off. After Papa secured our goods, he’d join Mama and me on the wooden bench and tweak my nose.Well done, laddie, he’d say, adjusting his lucky hat to Mama’s chagrin. She’d roll her eyes and sigh as Papa clicked his to...

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“The Waiting Game” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #174

It’s a couple of minutes after eight when I turn off the high road and drive onto the open ground behind The Lazy Duck. My tyres crunch over granite chippings in the darkness and I draw up alongside a dozen other vehicles. I’m surprised there aren’t more cars out here this evening; the bar is quiet for a Friday night. Often at the weekend, a roar of chattering voices and shrill laughter greets me as I approach. In its heyday, the bar was a popular venue for parties because of its flexible licencing hours. The landlord, Jimmy McGuigan, used t...

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