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Ian Craine

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2024

Stories (11)

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5 Followers

3 Following

11 Stories

177 karma pts

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Ruby Dreams

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #295

RUBY DREAMS Incorporating annotated excerpts from a greater work (Brave Rivers That Dream of the Sea) concerning a Confederate exile in Mexico, and a broken hacienda wherein live Ruby and her father and an old American judge. The severe schools shall never laugh me out of the philosophy of Herm...

0 likes

Back to School, Via University

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #294

BACK TO SCHOOL, VIA UNIVERSITY “Inothewayurthinkin”, said Adrian The words seemed slurred into each other. His wife looked at him. There was worry and concern on her face but skilfully woven in with less dramatic emotions. He was older than her; of course he was, since he had been her don at Oxford. It was the special subject she had to do as part of her modern history course that had really brought them together. The choices ran...

1 like

Leaving Home

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #293

LEAVING HOMEHow much can a man take before he breaks apart from the inside? He was looking out of the train window to try to calm himself- he’d just read that line in a newspaper’s book review. The three concrete Camden slabs each with its own primary colour roof- one red, one blue, one yellow- were passing by. They were a famous sight, the first out of Euston, council blocks, though since Magg...

3 likes

The Embarkation of St Ursula

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #291

THE EMBARKATION OF ST URSULA The water hustled round the quay plashing at the walls of customs houses and the apartments of sea captains. On the opposite side of the bay trees caught the lingering summer sun. There was a sense of concentrated magic. Kinsen soaked up the atmosphere willing it to remain. Somewhere a door creaked. The nurse entered a room with walls of dirty beige. They were bare save only for one picture. Her own linen too was ragged and stained. There was no quay now.Today’s the day”, she s...

7 likes

We Are All Works in Progress

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #289

WE ARE ALL WORKS IN PROGRESS There is little in us that has been there from the start. Our cells are forever changing so that after a few years nothing is the same as it once was. So perhaps it’s not surprising that who we think we are changes over similar time scales. There are so many levels, from passing fashion to deep half subconscious identity. I am an only child. Just about. My parents met before the War. A note for later generations. When old gits like me talk about “the War” they mean what is more generally known ...

4 likes

Sister Breda of the Carmelites

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #288

SISTER BREDA OF THE CARMELITES That afternoon I drove south. At lunchtime I had touched base with that windy desolate coast, and I saw the great white ball that is Sizewell B. It was a dismal day. The air was full of threat and portent. By three the sky was a bruise of blue and green and purple, and the darkness was closing in on it. Leaving the shore I saw a last church white against the sky and there was a corposant adhering to its steeple. This alone may I save, said some Lord. The wind got up. A strand of po...

10 likes

When Night Again Meets Day on Equal Terms

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #286

TILL NIGHT AGAIN MEETS DAY ON EQUAL TERMS On those days the water returned. It bounced and flowed across the wild grasses. It pounded the old stone wall. Spume and spray rose into the air. The grassy twiggy abodes of the nesting birds were washed away, and the rats were swept under the promenade to enter the piping and the inner runnels of the old houses. That night I looked across the water to the dim lights of Bagillt, far away and crouching on the shoreline. Now a man could swim all the way to Wales. It happened twice a year. I turned bac...

19 likes

The Times of Remembering, The Times of Forgetting

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #285

THE TIMES OF REMEMBERING, THE TIMES OF FORGETTING Memories like islands now in the silted waters of his mind. He remembers the times of remembering. The child who could not but remember when there was so much to learn. The sight of the green leaves of summer on a perfect smudgeless blue sky. The sound of grinding metal from the goods railway at the bottom of the road. The smell of soapy sticky tar new pasted on the road. Then the teenager sitting in smoky Kardomah basements forcing a coffee to last two hours. And the young adult ...

4 likes

The Man Upstairs

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #284

THE MAN UPSTAIRS Patricia divorced me last month. She said I was a wastrel and was not good enough in bed to compensate. I needed money and I needed a holiday. I could just about afford Ireland. A mate who ran pubs in Central London came from a small place in County Limerick; I’d been there a few times and decided to revisit, reckoning on a bit of judicious gambling. An oxymoron perhaps- Patric...

5 likes

Once Upon A Time in the Watford Gap

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #279

ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WATFORD GAPArmitage left Towcester behind, and the empty centre of England opened itself to him. It was a fine evening. On his left the sky was still aflame, scored with parallel bands of blue and yellow and red. It was if the light had been refracted through a giant spectroscope. Then the yellow smudged the red and they all fell down the sky together until nothing was left but a variegated blue, and a red aureole of fire on the far horizon. Then ...

11 likes

I Columbine

Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #277

I COLUMBINE It started like they all did before time immemorial, handed down to awe and fear and shock. A liminal creature from the nether world, and known as Hellequin. He preyed on girl childs caught on the turn. Their fathers fretted at the change in them. While he, alone or with others, wandered the limits of ancient villages seeking his semi-willing victims. I have ...

8 likes