Sally-Anne Wilkinson’s New Short Story – Sunrise over Cappadocia

Here’s my latest story on the Storgy website. Inspired by the glory of hot air balloons in the morning sky!

Sunrise over Cappadocia

by

Sally-Anne Wilkinson

 

‘Come here.  There’s sleep in your eye.’

‘Mmmm…That’s good to know.’

He leans closer, and with his fingertip, removes the offending article.  I can feel the softness of his skin as he takes the tiny haul from the corner of my eye.  He smiles, proudly, displaying the crustie, then kisses the end of my nose.  The room is draped in shadows, and the pale blob resting on his nail is barely discernible in the dim light.

‘How can you do that?’I say.

‘Why not?  It’s part of you.’  He wipes his finger on the side of the bed.

‘Gross.’

‘You wouldn’t do that for me?’

‘No way!’

‘Not squeeze the blackheads on my back?’

‘Absolutely not!’

‘Would you cut my toenails if there was ever a time I couldn’t reach them…’

‘You’d be lucky.’

He edges across the bed, so his face rests…

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Sally-Anne Wilkinson’s New Short Story – The Birdhouse

My latest story on the Storgy website, with the stunning photography of Tomek Dzido as inspiration.

THE BIRDHOUSE

by

Sally-Anne Wilkinson

Stepping from the bus onto the estate, I smell bacon frying.  It’s years since I left, but nothing’s changed: the houses, clean and neat, overlook characterless gardens, and the street itself is airless; stagnant with marriage, kids, invisibility.   The bus drives away, and I’m abandoned with my rucksack, heavy on my back.

I look at the house.  Karen’s car is parked in the shared driveway.  She offered to pick me up from the station, but I said no.

‘Suit yourself.’

I see a bike, flung carelessly, to the right of Karen’s car, and I laugh, a small, indiscernible sound.

‘Seems to me, Charlie, you think the world owes you a favour.’

‘What -?’

‘Your bike. On the drive.’

‘Dad – I wasn’t…’

‘Money Charlie.  Hard-earned cash.  Bike’s aren’t free, you know?’

‘I -‘

‘You can’t look after anything – ’

‘Dad – I…

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Sally-Anne Wilkinson’s New Short Story – ‘A Forgotten Colour’

Another light-hearted romp from the Wilkinson imagination! Hope you enjoy, and please, tell me if you do. And if you don’t, please tell me why…! I only get better if I know how to improve…

A FORGOTTEN COLOUR

by

Sally-Anne Wilkinson

*

Judith draws back the curtains, securing them with tie-backs; gently fingering the black beaded ends.  David chose them.  She glances around the room.  It could do with a polish, and a hoover.  Instead, she settles for smoothing the duvet with the palm of her hand.  Aubergine.  David’s favourite.

It’s purple, Mum, he said, snorting. 

 

That’s not what they call it on those design shows.

 

Well, exactly.

The conversation she remembers verbatim, but it’s a while since she’s seen him, and lately, she finds it hard to recall his features, such as the line of his nose, and the natural hue of his hair.

She likes to keep his room tidy. That way, it feels like he’ll turn up any minute, though the bedcovers are rumpled from when Frank stops in here.  Why can’t he clean up after himself?  It…

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Sally-Anne Wilkinson’s New Short Story – Amazing Grace

AMAZING GRACE

by

Sally-Anne Wilkinson

Photo by Steven Michael

Seth sat on the bench trying to think of the right words.  In actual fact, there were no words for what he had to say; for what he was about to do.  He looked at the paper again, which he’d stared at for the last thirty minutes.  Dear Grace.  It was as far as he got.

His hand was unsteady, and the words uneven, and though his fingers were unused to writing, it was not this that made the pencil quiver.  Outside, the wind cried mournfully, and frigid air crept into his thin clothing, but it was not the cold that made his body shake.

He only hoped she could forgive him.   His hand finally allowed him to scribe.

It was not a decision easily made.

He sat at this bench when he first saw her, not yet seven years old. …

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Sally-Anne Wilkinsons’ New Short Story – Bring Me My Shotgun

Here’s my latest story on the Storgy website. The readers chosen title this time was Bring Me My Shotgun.

BRING ME MY SHOTGUN

This was the best Christmas present Kevin ever received.

Even better than the Superman costume when he was ten.  Though that outfit didn’t survive long.  Not once Shaun Peterson got his hands on it.

Avoiding Shaun at school was a skill; one Kevin thought he’d perfected, until that Friday.  It was dress-as-you-like day – though Kevin was the only one to turn up in fancy dress.  All the others kids simply wore their favourite clothes, having long outgrown the concept of imaginary play.  At least in public.

Intrigued by an eruption of noise, a passerby stumbled upon a chanting mob of children in a back street.

‘Hey,’ he yelled.

Spotting an adult in their midst, they scattered – leaving behind a tiny figure, spread-eagled on tarmac in skin-tight red and blue.

‘Oh my God, Kevin,’ said his mother, when he hobbled into the house.

She surveyed…

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STUCK IN TRAFFIC

Here’s my new short story on the Storgy website:

Stuck in apparent gridlock, two car-sharing colleagues are late for work.  It seems that Rick’s female passenger will never shut up. 

Surely, the start of the day can’t get any worse than this?

I hope you enjoy.  It’s a five minute read, so just the right amount of time for sitting down, putting your feet up, and having a coffee.  Comments and feedback are very welcome.  Thanks.

Please click on the link to read – STUCK IN TRAFFIC.

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Sally-Anne Wilkinson’s New Short Story – Loving Rapunzel

I hope you enjoy this new five minute read of mine on the Storgy website.  Please leave a comment, as I’d love to hear your feedback.

Click on the link to read: Loving Rapunzel.

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