Write a short story that takes place in a quaint, idyllic, English village.
Posted in Fiction on Oct 26, 2022
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✍️ 31 stories
“Seaglass” by Natalie Frank
That time of my life feels slimy and dank. My father belongs to the dredges of my memory where he sits, weaving a sturdy net with leather hands as I remember him. His boats leave a trail of shimmery black oil, the raw color of the sky on days of tormenting, angry waves and storms. The fish my father brought in were always cold and tasted of the sea, no matter how thoroughly my mother cleaned them o...
“Blackbird's song” by Pauline Breatnach
Two white swans glided elegantly along by the banks of the river Brin. Three cygnets paddled furiously behind. Eighty- year- old, John Smith, walking his dachshund, stopped to watch, shielding his aged eyes from the glare of the spring sunshine. At intervals, bunches of crocus added a dash of colour to the, as yet, greyish landscape. A spring breeze held the promise of warmer days.Lady Priscilla was ...
“Evelyn's Gone Mad and I Feel Fine” by Tori Routsong
“Pirates? Like in Peter Pan?” “Well, technically pirate. Singular. Just one. A girl.” “A girl pirate?” “She says her name is Anne.” Evelyn fidgeted uncomfortably, pulling at her skirt. “I didn’t know there were girl pirates.” “Well, there were. At least two, anyway. Anne tells me that she had a friend called Mary and they were pirates together on the sea.” I tore into the scone Evelyn had given me with unladylike vigor so I’d have time to process this. The only pirates I’d ever seen were the m...
“A Faithful Bet” by Iona Cottle
Another Sunday, and a beautiful one at that. It was one of those days that made believing in God so very easy. When the wind was warm and soft, and the sun was high and there was nothing urgent that needed doing that day. A pleasant hush lay over the village like a favourite blanket. It was only the start of summer, so the trees were still a vibrant green from the spring rains and the children hadn’t worn out their parents’ nerves yet. A Sunday that people dreamed off, the Sunday that everyone imagined when they were asked ‘What’s your p...
“Upper Morecambe’s Science Fiction Festival All-Ages Costume Contest” by Marte Van Der Linden
According to a particular genre of movies - the kind involving copious explosions and bad guys with no shooting skills - a visiting UFO should fly past the pyramids of Giza and Stonehenge before landing in either downtown Manhattan or a cornfield with a scarecrow and a creaky windmill. The movies got it wrong. The first UFO to visit Earth actually landed on the outskirts of the village of Upper Morecambe, Gloucestershire, England, where it parked itself neatly behind Miss Peabody’s honeysuckle-covered cottage. The little white fence that ...
“Family Tree” by Bruno Lowagie
My grandmother, the mother of my father, used to be the most beautiful girl in the village. Every boy was jealous when she chose my grandfather as her boyfriend. He was an outsider to them because he had gone to college in the city.There was even more envy when the young couple married. They bought themselves a Ford Mustang for the occasion —an American car that clashed with everything the British countryside stood for. The villagers frowned upon the newlyweds, but the couple didn’t care about what other people thought of them. The...
“The Gate” by Felicity Edwards
She hobbled along, clinging to her stick, intent on seeing where she placed each step. To a casual observer, this grey-haired old lady was a harmless old biddy stopping to chat with anyone who crossed her path. A dog walker on the opposite side of the road called out, “Hello Miss Curtis, what are you doing out in this awful weather?”“Same as you, out for a walk.”“But I have to take Milo for his constitution come rain or sun, you don’t have any reason to brave this wind and rain you?”By now the dog and his c...
“The Cliffords of Crouch End Part 1: The New Family” by Cara H
The New FamilyThat it rained in London’s Crouch End borough on the night of Saint Patrick’s Day 1963 was nothing remarkable. That a new Scottish family was moving into one of the decaying houses being given free to immigrants willing to earn their keep was naught to raise eyebrows. That said Scottish family’s surname was Clifford was nothing astounding. The fact that one of the family’s grown sons was David Clifford, a twenty-year-old up-and-coming troubadour with an outfit called The Southside Blues Exchange did catch the attent...
“The Sanford Parva Mystery” by Brian Guyll
You've probably never heard of Sandford Parva, a small village in Dorset on a quiet road five miles away from the hustle and bustle of urban life. Its tree lined avenue, verdant village green complete with pond and wildlife creates the perfect picture postcard of an idyllic village in the west country. Naturally, the inhabitants of Sandford Magna, a couple of miles to the north, dispute such a claim, based mainly on the fact that their spreading chestnut tree is much bigger and fifty years older. However, Parvians quickly point to th...
“The Planted Pot Murders” by Cheryl Fulton
Stella Stanhope rode her bike habitually into town like she did everyday. As she glided along the narrow, barely paved road with the same scenery no matter which way she looked. Green fields as far as the eyes could see, and sheep, lots of sheep. Some might think pretty, and it was, but so boring. Nothing ever exciting happened in Hambleden, it did at one time, but not lately. Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang, Band of Brothers, and my favorite Sleepy Hollow, among others were filmed here. They even used our church for a scene in the Agatha...
“Thanks to Mrs Barnes” by Deborah Mercer
“Tina, does every English village have someone like Mrs Barnes?” my Dutch ex-sister-in-law Anneke asked, looking vaguely shell-shocked. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, “But why should we be the only ones to suffer?” “Oh, come on, you don’t mean it! She is a character, after all.” “So was Jack the Ripper,” I said, darkly. I suppose I should explain a couple of things. Anneke was my idio...
“Following the Birds” by Cory Pines
Piper stared out the window, staring at a small blue jay soar around the sky. I sat down next to her, but she didn’t acknowledge my presence. I didn’t mind it though. I was fine with just sitting next to her, watching her marvel at the sight of the bird. “Jackson, do you want to fly away?” Piper asked, apparently she did realize I was there. I was a little shocked, normally when she ...
“In a village . . . ” by Lisa Weissel
Nothing ever takes place in a village. Or so many would think. This was the phrase that came to mind most readily when Miss Eugenia Sprout thought fondly of her home, in a small village in the English countryside. Miss Sprout was getting on in years, almost seventy four if you could believe it, and enjoyed pottering in her garden, weather permitting. This allowed her untold opportunities for observing her neighbours and the comings and goings at the Vicarage, which sat opposite h...
“Murdering Abroad” by Robyn Welborne
Here, nestled in the Westmeiser Valley, sat the quaint little village of Dorchester, England. A shy and cozy little place with an average population. It was a fair day with a bright blue sky with scattered clouds. The sun took its place over the horizon. It was the beginning of a new dawn and a joyful start to their annual village fete. The village roared to life as the people hopped out of their beds to get the day under way. The Baker, as usual, stirring up the coals inside the brick stove to wa...
“The Jewelry Shop” by Kelsey Hooper
The warm sun washes over my skin as I step out of my house. The clear sky is a welcome sight compared to the storms that have plagued the village for a few days now. In other words, it's the perfect weather to go shopping. I skip to the marketplace, hopping over puddles as I go. As I approach, the air becomes sweeter, and I salivate at the smell of cotton candy. M...
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