Amanda Peattie
Bio
I live on the Northern Beaches of Sydney in Australia. I’m semi-retired and I’m loving being able to write stories that people other than family and friends might actually read and hopefully enjoy.
Stories (6/0)
How the Rhinoceros Got its Horn
How the Rhino Got Its Horn The rhinoceros lay on her side, breathing heavily, waiting for the pain to pass again. She wondered how long this was going to go on as she stood and shook herself then walked around in a large circle, constantly on the lookout for any nearby predators. She offered up thanks to whoever was responsible for the gift of a long flowing mane and tail, the tail that she used mercilessly to swat the large biting flies from her smooth white, glossy coat. The mane and long forelock protected her tiny eyes and sensitive nose and face from the sun as well as the flies. Another thunderbolt of pain hit and she threw herself on the ground groaning and gave in to the urge to push out whatever it was that had been growing inside her expansive belly for months.
By Amanda Peattie11 months ago in Fiction
Father's Footprint
Father’s Footprint “Watch Out for Slippery Rocks” For years as youngsters my brother and I thought our father’s name was Bruce, after all that was what everyone - neighbours, extended family, workmates - called him. Then we learned his name was actually William Bruce and everyone called him Bruce because his father’s name was also William. That’s just what they did here in Australia back in the day, named a son after the father then proceeded to call the son by his middle name, there was no William II or William Junior. I never knew my grandfather William, a handsome half-Indian immigrant who had been brought to Australia by his father Arthur who was a very English military type who had worked on the construction of the Indian Railway. William died from encephalitis when my dad was a young boy of seven, perhaps that was the defining event that shaped the young lad’s future.
By Amanda Peattieabout a year ago in Men
Behind the Last Window
Behind The Last Window The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. After all these years she still felt an adrenaline rush when she had a chance to to sneak away from being under the watchful eye of her young protector, her secret love, for even a few minutes. She’d make the furtive journey from one end of the huge barracks-like building to creep into this bedroom, the bedroom of the stranger who she surmised was her father.
By Amanda Peattieabout a year ago in Humans
The Runaway Train
The train steamed its way across the arid landscape in the pre-dawn darkness. Nocturnal desert creatures made their way back to cool lairs to seek safety and shelter and escape the relentless heat of the coming day. They stopped to watch it barrel along the metal tracks noisily belching smoke and steam.
By Amanda Peattie2 years ago in Fiction
