Phil Tennant
Bio
Londoner living in Perth WA. Divorced, two adult kids. My dog Nugget is my best mate. Always enjoyed reading & writing; hugely influenced by Stephen King's Salem's Lot. Write mainly Horror & Comedy or a combination of both.
Stories (23/0)
Double Exposure
Sandra sat in her car composing herself for several minutes before opening the door to the summer’s heat and stepping out onto the sun-baked pavement. She was an attractive brunette and to her pleasure, most people guessed her age at around the mid-thirties, almost ten less than her actual years. Although anxious, her pretty face showed little of her nervousness, a trace of a smile playing across her lipstick reddened lips. Only her deep brown eyes, darting around to take in the unfamiliar surroundings, showed anything of her true emotions. Beneath her plain white blouse, her heart was racing, and as she opened the gate to number 23 and started up the path, it seemed to accelerate another few degrees. The semi-detached house she approached could have been any house, in any street, in any number of London’s suburbs. It looked well maintained; the gardens were neat and tidy, the flower beds weeded, the lawns trimmed. Swallowing deeply, almost theatrically, Sandra pulled back the brass door knocker and rapped it twice against the Oxford blue door. She heard sounds coming from deep in the house and then footsteps approaching the front door.
By Phil Tennant12 months ago in Fiction
Xander & Kevin Save The F*cking Universe
Wednesday had started as most other Wednesdays usually did for Xander. His alarm went off at 6:31am, (he had a thing about prime numbers, so had set his alarm one minute later than normal, at 631.) He did his general ablutions, dressed, and went into his kitchen to put the coffee machine on. He turned on the digital radio which sat on his benchtop for some background noise, then put some bread in the toaster. Before he knew it, the radio announcer introduced the 7:30 news and it was time to go. He grabbed his lunch from the fridge, chucked it unceremoniously into his back pack, along with his keys and phone, then left for work.
By Phil Tennantabout a year ago in Fiction
When Worlds COllide
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Officer Andreas looked up and sighed. The world never used to be like this, before the incursion. He glanced sideways at his partner, Rannell, and she was watching him, watching the sky. She blinked, her verical eyelids flashing across those creepy, goatlike pupils. He smiled weakly at her, and looked toward the ground. He had come to accept Rannell, but the blinking thing still freaked him out a little bit.
By Phil Tennantabout a year ago in Fiction
Divine Intervention
The two men strolled along the idyllic beach side by side, in an amicable silence. Gentle waves would occasionally reach their feet before retreating across the fine white sand. They were completely alone. No children frolicking in the crystal-clear waters, no couples lying in the shade of the palm trees which lined the beach. The sun sent down a warm but pleasant heat, not a cloud in the sky or the murmur of a breeze.
By Phil Tennantabout a year ago in Families
Kevin 7
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. However, Kevin had discovered this was not true in the case of the foyer of a movie theatre. Everyone was staring at him. Also, the fact he was wearing pyjamas probably didn’t help. Kevin looked around, confused and bewildered. Most of the crowd had returned to their business, moving along the expansive concourse, to or from their allocated cinema screen. A few still stared at him, a group of three girls giggled and whispered behind raised hands. Then, he started to feel what was becoming a familiar churning in the base of his stomach. Panicked, he began looking around, desperately looking for sanctuary, when his eyes fell on the sign for the toilets. For some reason, known only to his subconscious, he announced, rather too loudly,
By Phil Tennant2 years ago in Fiction
Be Careful What You Wish For
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window… “So, what do you think?” Sally asked, turning towards Steve, who was engrossed in that morning’s newspaper. “What do I think about what?” He answered distractedly, not looking up from his paper. He was then startled when the cushion sally threw burst through his newspaper and hit him square in the face. “What the fuc..!” he exclaimed.
By Phil Tennant2 years ago in Fiction
Ice in the Blood
Ice in the Blood The main first class dining hall of the Titanic was a grand affair. Tables mostly seating 12, were laid with the finest silver flatware, porcelain dining sets and crystal glassware to match. This all sat on crisp, white linen table clothes, draped over heavy oaken tables. The décor was suitably grandiose, white panelled walls, interspersed with ornate pilasters topped with the busts of Greek gods surrounded the hall, which sat the entire width of the enormous vessel. The strap work ceilings, again in white, complement the setting perfectly. The captains table sat central to all of this, no grander than any of the others, but somehow imposing.
By Phil Tennant2 years ago in Fiction
My Bird's Eye View
It was night-time. The yellowing glow of a harvest moon illuminated the countryside. Pin pricks of light millions of years old dotted the cloudless black/blue sky. I was staring down from on high into a gently swaying sea of corn. My heart was beating more rapidly than it had any right to. Below, the slightest movement attracted my attention, and my head jerked around to focus on the cause. A field mouse was scampering up a stalk to feast on an ear of corn. The stem rocked slightly under the tiny creature’s movement, and it was this which had caught my eye. Suddenly, I was plummeting, swooping towards the ground with alarming speed, my heart now racing impossibly fast. The small rodent was my only focus, appearing larger, almost magnified in my vision. In seconds I was grasping out with razor sharp talons, plucking the creature from its perch, then soaring upwards with one push from powerful wings, levelling out to land high on a nearby tree. The mouse was already dead, pierced by my deadly claws when I began ripping its still warm flesh from the bones. Then grabbing the whole carcass in my beak and swallowing, feeling my throat constricting, squeezing it down, then...
By Phil Tennant2 years ago in Fiction
