Troy Lane

“The Good Ol’ Days” by Troy Lane

If disappointment could be measured on a scale from one to ten, today was an eleven plus. I closed the bathroom door and studied my reflection in the mirror. There seems to be some new lines under these eyes and a few more silver hairs making their presence known. I sighed, just a little, and closed my eyes. Who am I now? I used to be so much fun, carefree, full of love and laughter. Opening my eyes the glass was a window into the past. My reflection changed to a youthful me wearing a wide smile and full of hope for the future. I watched the...

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“Many Questions, Two Choices, One Answer” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #95

What an uninspired layout. Jim traversed the long, colourless corridor decorated with dim amber lights leading the way. The reward for his journey, two closed doors barely a hand width apart. Both were grey, covered in smudges with silver knobs of questionable cleanliness. The knobs were next to each other on the inward opening doors. The left door was hinged on the left, the right door hinged on the right. Jim was wearing his finest suit today but felt naked without his leather briefcase. He was told not to bring it which was highly irregul...

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“Meet the Parents” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #92

This is strange, where am I? It’s so dark, I can’t see anything. At least it's warm and cosy in here. Should I take a nap? Maybe I just woke up from one, I’m not sure but I don’t feel tired. Oh well, what should I do? I know, I’ll see if there’s anyone else around. I’d like to have a chat with someone. I don’t know why I think that. “Hello, anybody there?” “Yes,” a male voice said. “Hello, where are you?” “I’m here.” “Sorry I can’t see you at the moment.” “I know.” “Can you see me?” “Yes.” Well, that doesn’t seem fair bu...

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“Hemley’s Choice” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #88

Hemley lowered the hood of his black cloak so his forehead disappeared, the sign of respect demanded by law when in public. His hands tucked out of sight and his beautiful face blurred out in darkness like the hundreds around him. One could no longer tell whether passing another Man, Woman, Zaikai, Anjel or any other amazing soul that lived in these lands. All were subdued under the black veil of anonymity, wandering in a sea of hoods moving in waves like the old oceans used to. The Mackeyes were always watching even if they couldn’t be seen...

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“Choosing the Right One” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #81

Paul motioned for Sarah to exit the cinema first. His generous act gave him the few precious seconds he needed to process his thoughts. It’s hard to hide disappointment from your face, particularly from the ladies who are gifted in reading such things. Foolish. Selfish. Careless. Stupid. His casual dress, jeans and tee-shirt, screamed amateur as he stood next to Sarah wearing a stunning red dress. Awkward silence brought that drama to a conclusion. Now he couldn’t comprehend his decision to take Sarah to this action movie for their first dat...

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“All Will See” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #80

Michael struggled to sit still in humble submission as his supervisor Ben studied the photos. Normally a quiet, even stoic man, every part of him wanted to cry out in victory. He pictured himself dancing on his desk, this discovery would change everything, forever. Michael’s internal party quietened down when he noticed the absence of unrestrained glee that should have been flying at him from across his desk. Ben’s face was flat, nothing was going on. He flicked through the pictures like they were taken by a photography enthusiast; too keen ...

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“School of Thought” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #79

Mary rushed inside the house, locked the door behind her and shuffled slowly to the kitchen. The kitchen, that’s where it was, waiting for her. She was in no hurry to get there plus she was out of breath. Her brisk walk truly was a workout. Going for a walk was supposed to make one feel better, not so in this case. Entering the kitchen, her eyes fixed on the letter resting on the bench by the sink, it was from her mother. Daring not go any closer she parked herself at the dining table and stared at the envelope. Her name in beautiful cursive...

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“Never Alone” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #77

Fourteen-year-old Sam, cocooned in layers of clothing, a blue beanie and woollen gloves, hugged himself as the misty vapour of his breath obstructed his view. The cold welcomed him like a smack in the face and his nose was stinging. He pulled his phone out of his jacket fumbling to get a grip on it. It was hard to feel through the thick gloves. He walked around aimlessly and raised it above his head, it was no use. NO SIGNAL. His peripheral vision alerted him to something very pink racing towards him. Kyra, eight years, full of life and love...

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“The Price of Truth” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #76

Eleven-year-old James sat outside the principal’s office, eyes down and fiddling with his fingers. He could hear the muffled conversation behind the door but couldn’t make out the words, surely that was for the best. But his mind was imagining the worse. What was taking Dad so long? The office door clicked open, James didn’t want to look but he had to, Mark was his best friend. Their eyes met briefly, James saw it. The hurt, disappointment, anger and betrayal in Mark’s eyes. Mark glared at James as he rushed by to the seat farthest away. Fin...

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“The New Year Solution” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #74

The sun was close to giving up for the day, the last of its orange glow wearily slipping away. It’s New Year’s Eve again and the neighbours of the cul-de-sac were setting up for the annual street party. The children were riding bikes and laughing, punctuated with squeals, cries and the occasional parental reprimand. New life was emerging in the normally quiet street. It was a tidy street with manicured gardens and lawns, the ever-popular Christmas lights still set up in each home. People had come from all over the city to view the spectacle ...

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“Serving The Dream” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #73

It just didn’t get any better than this, ten-year-old Lord Sweetson Thomas thought. Most royal affairs he was made to attend were plain boring. There was something about this Long Jump event that captured his young heart. He’d been watching unabated for at least the last hour and eagerly awaited this athlete’s final turn. He was most grateful to be seated so very close to the action, another perk of being the Duke’s son. He licked his lips as the young man positioned himself. He had to be working it all out in his mind and body. The right mo...

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“Everything's Under Control” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #72

Dim, but warm, morning light began to push its way in from behind the heavy drapes of the bedroom. James and Amy sound asleep snuggled together like one cocoon under the thick blankets. Air vents at the bottom of the wall behind their bed opened followed by a soft hiss. James sniffed involuntarily. Soft music began to play, its beat and volume quickly increased to a crescendo. The bed began to shake and vibrate, slowly at first but it too became more violent matching the beat of the music. Simultaneously the drapes began to open.James opened...

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“The Real Recipe” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #71

“Are you ready for this?” Sarah positioned a stool by the counter and motioned for eight-year-old Isa to hop on.  “Affirmative mum,” Isa added her quirky three-finger salute as she took her seat, raised her eyebrows and smiled.“Do we have everything we need?” Sarah listed ingredients counting each one off with an extended finger. Each time Isa nodded decidedly with the obligatory “Yep.” Sarah turned the oven on to preheat, smiled at Isa and studied the ingredients.  “We’ve proven that your Nanna is of no help with th...

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“A Decade to Destination” by Troy Lane

Submitted to Contest #6

Richard knew it was time but self-denial is powerful. The last six months the signs have been everywhere. The gentle hum of the motorhome engine was soothing and familiar, focus on that. His eyes darted at all the signs telling motorists what exits were coming up for what destination. That used to be exciting but now they were like a social media feed, overwhelming and familiar. The excitement was gone. They’d taken this road before. He glanced at Karen next to him, beautiful as always but she’s been silent for an hour now, another sign. A q...

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