Paul Littler

“Jacob and the Psychonauts” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #247

​Jacob Bayley lay back and placed the mask over his face, in what used to be his father’s favourite chair, and began to inhale. Dad had been dead for a few months now, and Jacob knew he wouldn’t have thought Jacob had the guts to do what he was about to do, but he wasn’t around to bitch about it. ​The water bath had reached the right temperature, Jacob having put it on a plate warmer lit by a tea light’s small flame. He got the initial ether hit almost immediatel...

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“The Distance from the Sun to the Earth” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #243

     A nation planted, so concerned with gain     As the seasons come and go, greater grows the pain     And far too many feelin’ the strain     When will there be a harvest for the world?     ‘Harvest for the World,’ The Isley Brothers      The distance from the Sun to the Earth is approximately ninety-three million miles, or one astronomical unit, which is close to the distance displayed on m...

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“Nothing But Kindness” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #242

     Muriel was both embarrassed, at being locked in the toilet, and then angry at everyone leaving without her. Granted, she may have nodded off some point after repeatedly calling for help, but nevertheless, there’d be a strongly worded notelet to the secretary of the ‘Historical Weavers Society (Essex Branch)’ when she got home. When that might be, was anyone’s guess.     It was October and the nights had begun to really draw in and mornings were dark. Muriel had been looking forward to th...

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“To Be A Pilgrim” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #241

​Anthony rounded the headland, his breath snatched away by the gusty south westerly, ignoring Lol’s ghost looming on the path ahead. He trudged the coastal path, grateful for the tug of the mud at his boots and the salty slap of the gauzelike mist; a reminder to stay in the moment and not let the past drag him back.​He pushed determinedly through Lol’s spectre. Anthony’s impulsive decision to get away to walk and think had been met with scepticism by their friends; the sam...

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“The Last Word” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #238

This story contains themes that may be upsetting to some readers, please be advised.     The ‘water cooler’ moment is long dead, with the rise of social media and on demand news, yet Piers Kavanagh’s last words on his live show ‘Exposed’ were on everyone’s lips, everywhere, the following day.     “I can see…”     During the staged seance with Molly Burke, the latest spiritualist medium he planned to debunk on his popular show, he’d begun to look odd.   ...

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“Bite” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #237

JUNE 1666 LONDON      He had taken a room at the ‘The Town of Ramsgate’ inn, sitting quietly as a commotion raged following the discovery of a young woman’s body in the Thames, mere hours since her arrival from Rotterdam.       He’d disembarked the ‘Gilded Lion,’ a Dutch three masted Fluyte. I...

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“Run!” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #235

2026It was a nice neighbourhood until the election; then, like the rest of the country, it went to hell. Elizabeth, from her loft space, watched the crosses burning in her neighbours front yards. RUSP police stood guard as hooded Klan members, probably the same white guys from the Regional Committee of Governance, set cars alight on driveways, kicked down doors and dragged whoever had been dumb enough, too proud or too poor to stay.She watched Mrs Washington stru...

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“Friday’s Child” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #234

Today      Jason had missed Mum’s funeral on account of the murders.  Time was his greatest loss over the last thirty years, he decided, sitting on the bed in his cell.  Add another loss, now Mum was dead.  He looked at the clock on his shelf and wished he could turn back time. Again his parole eligibility ...

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“The Last Voyage” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #232

Please be aware, this story contains adult themes.            Constance at her table, stared out of the window of the ship, the wake the only thing visible in the darkness.  Lost in thought, she listened with half an ear to the conversation at the table next to hers. “Here’s to us!  Tom and Jack” said one of the men.            His partner was clearly not as keen on yet...

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“Singing Bells” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #231

Singing Bells Paul Littler             Bernhard’s eyes opened, or at least he thought they did, as he could see nothing.  Am I blind, he wondered, did my fall from the horse rob me of my sight?  He tried to lift his head and cracked his forehead on a wooden surface only inches from his nose.  He could smell something familiar; resinous wood, pine at a guess?  And something else, dirt, soil...

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“Toxic” by Paul Littler

            “Faye’s raving about the starter,” said Andy, dumping a stack of plates into the sink.             “I was just about to strain the potatoes in there,” Emma wailed, “Just go and get some more wine.”  She was stressed.  Out of the blue Andy wants a dinner party for his new boss, Faye, and her husband, Ed.  Emma disliked Faye the moment she met her three months ago.  All tits and teeth, ...

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“Winter’s Edge” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #227

Please be aware, this story contains references to themes including addiction, violence, threats to children and suicide.             Sam’s eyes flickered momentarily then closed again.  Minutes passed before she stirred in her car seat, eyes slowly opening, confused.  Snow was falling, big heavy flakes tumbling from a pewter coloured sky. “Pretty,” she whispered as her car bonnet turned fro...

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“The Tin Horse” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #226

Archie Button desired just two things in life; having what he wanted then wanting what he had.  It was the latter bothering him outside the filthy window of a rundown junk shop, draped in dust coated cobwebs and stuffed with piles of faded newspapers, battered furniture and sad looking, worn-out toys.   “You already have too much junk” Linda, his wife, reminded him.  If he wanted more, he’d hav...

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“Killer Mirror” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #225

“I’m a huge fan!” “I get that a lot.” Eunice was shivering inside her large fur coat, eyebrow raised, watching Barry drop his pen. “It’s cold in here,” he said, “I expected something more, you know, glamorous…” Eunice smiled behind her oversized sunglasses, “Yeah, well, welcome to showbiz.” The studio for weekly music show ‘Jamboree’ occupied the hollowed-out spa...

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“itch” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #224

            As the helicopter circled the island on its second approach Astrid placed her phone face down on her lap.   Too many uploaded videos of people erupting in a painful spiky death, spines tearing through bruised swollen skin.  She must have watched hundreds as the pandemic raged, death rate soaring.             “If I can’t...

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