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Phoning It In: 365 Snaps, 365 Stories Blog
1 phone, 365 snaps, 365 stories. Over the next 365 days, I'm going to snap pictures of objects, and write stories about them. I did this as a kid to keep the blues at bay. Let's hope it still works.
2017-04-27 01:01
Maeve wanted to throttle him. Then kill him. Then bring him back to life so she could kill him again. She had worked in call centres for ten years, and would never treat a customer the way… Read More
2017-04-26 23:29
His empty place in the bed felt like a chasm. He’d been threatening to leave for a while, but she always managed to convince him to stay. He still loved her, he’d admitted as su… Read More
2017-04-25 01:37
I’m a writer, and writers can function just fine on no sleep, fang you very much. I’ve had thirteen cups of coffee in twelve hours, which some would say is unhealthy, but I&rsqu&helli…Read More
2017-04-25 01:27
Marriage is a slog. There’s no way around that fact, and no matter what Dr Phil says, some marriages just don’t have a “Hero.” Toby and I got married when we were tw… Read More
2017-04-23 07:13
I spent a significant portion of my formative years standing before this mirror, looking for a change. Any change. Gradually, I saw it. Things grew, (some of them welcome, some of them not… Read More
2017-04-21 10:37
Jake looked at the gift without taking it, bemused. He was fairly certain he’d told Angie that he didn’t like chocolate. On their first date. Yesterday. He wasn’t exactly… Read More
Day 24, Story 24: The Wool Hat Society.
2017-04-21 02:54
‘Will you please take off that damn thing? It walks into a room ten seconds before you do.’ Grant Barron’s mother, Lisa, hated the worn, lint-speckled black beanie Grant w… Read More
Day 23, Story 23: Wishcraft.
2017-04-19 05:02
Greta caught Tuberculosis from her elderly neighbour. Doris had called her one Saturday, desperately ill with what she thought was the flu, and begged her to clean her house. Being a person… Read More
Day 22, Story 22: Grandmother’s Eyes.
2017-04-19 05:01
She’s about eighteen months old in the picture, my Grandmother. Her grey-blue eyes – brown in the sepia tones of the picture – stare out at the world with neither wonder n… Read More

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