Short story: The Teacher

The pavements and plazas always swarmed with tourists – camera phones plugged into their faces, so that Edward named them ‘Pac-a-mac Cyborgs’.

On days when he saw knowledge light up one of his student’s faces, Edward walked around the backs of the picture-takers and didn’t huff at the crowds shuffling slowly past the monuments and sculptures. But other times, when his class had grasped nothing, Edward got a bitter delight in stopping to blow his nose, or pick at his teeth in between the photographers and their subjects.

Edward had already forgotten that he too had once been a tourist.


I’ve been ill this week so I’m a bit late with my story. But on Saturday I managed to meet my mother in London for a celebration of her 70th birthday. I walked from Waterloo to Victoria, past Westminster Abbey, and the number of tourists helped with some much needed inspiration.

This piece of writing is part of the Friday Fictioneers writing group. Each week writers from around the world attempt to write 100 words (or so) starting with a picture, this week from David Stewart.

I’d love to receive comments and constructive criticism. Click here to read other people’s stories inspired by this picture or to join in, with the group hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields.


Short story: Breathless


It was cold in the studio, breath steaming, her fingers frozen rigid around the chisel. The mallet beat a rhythm and the chisel moved, but she was simply the conduit for the metal point and the stone; even if her eyes were shut, she felt sure that the fossilised lovers would be uncovered – hidden in the centre of the creamy white interior for 145 million years.

When enough of their secret had been revealed, when they could breathe once more, she put down her tools and went indoors. Time to get warm and carve some words.


This week Rochelle Wisoff-Fields chose a photograph of one of my sculptures for our Friday Fictioneers writing prompt. I’m really excited to see what stories come out of it. To join in or, or to read everyone else’s stories, click here.

This is a limestone sculpture I did some time ago and the picture was taken when I was about half-way through the carving. The black ‘heart’ on the side is simply me working out in charcoal the shape of the sculpture as I go along – you can also see black lines on the one of the face’s eyebrow and eye lid, which show me where to carve.