Vince Henry

“Whittaker's Church” by Vince Henry

The crunching of leaves alerted me to her presence. “Kai,” she said. I didn’t want to turn. Didn’t want to face her. “Are you going to say something?” I turned, bracing myself. There she was, staring at me, shoulders heaving like she’d run all the way out here. “Hey, Leo. You wanted to see me?” I mean obviously, otherwise she wouldn’t be out here. She cocked her head, almost like she couldn’t believe me. “Seriously? Yes, I wanted to see you. I wanted to know why Johan told me I was supposed to submit my badge.” How to go about this… I crosse...

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“A Day In The Life of Ace” by Vince Henry

Submitted to Contest #104

“Are you coming tonight?”The feminine voice crackles through the receiver. There is silence, as though the caller is waiting for my reply with bated breath. Perhaps because she is.My gaze falls on an old image on my desk, buried beneath the mess of papers, files and markers. It’s easy not to notice it, yet I find myself staring at it every time, willing myself to pick it up. To look at it.No. Those memories are gone now.Memories which still flash through my mind on a daily basis, filling my dreams and bouncing around in my head while I try t...

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“Wilting Peruvian Lilies” by Vince Henry

Submitted to Contest #96

I stared at the lily on my windowsill. It had wilted; it’s once striking azalea-like blossoms and pink petals flecked with magenta replaced by drooping yellow petals. Peruvian Lilies had a two-week vase-life if taken care of properly, but I hadn’t bothered to cater for the flower for weeks. As I stared at the dying plant, I had memories of times before, when I’d watered it. She had been there, then, chiding me on how irresponsible I was. I’d smiled, because she always did that and I’d come to like it. We had been friends normally, but one da...

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“New Beginnings” by Vince Henry

Submitted to Contest #95

Chapter 1A gentle breeze blew past. Finn pulled his coat closer to his thin frame. Beside him, Larry stood still, cradling an urn in his hands. It had been handmade by a local potter and had an Indian Gate mural etched on its body. That was all they had left of their comrades. The battle ground had been so decimated there hadn't been any bodies or mementoes of others to collect.“Cold?” He asked, glancing in the boy’s direction.“Na, I’m good.” He replied. His eyes fell on the urn. “So, are you gonna do it?”“Not yet," Larry said.He nodded, tur...

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“Hourglass” by Vince Henry

Submitted to Contest #92

Darkness. Alarm bells had begun in my head as I blinked rapidly, struggling to adjust to the darkness. They were coming. Confused murmurs and exasperated whispers had already broken out across Floor 87, but it was less about concern and more frustration: Although this was Eko City, the third most technologically advanced city in Africa, it was still Nigeria. Power outages were still expected, albeit rarely. A high-pitched shriek cut across the floor. My eyes adjusted to the darkness well enough to see the office clown, Ade Bashorun, lace his...

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