There was a young lady from Deal,
Who liked to eat raw orange peel.
She said she had tried
It boiled, baked, and fried
But preferred it uncooked for her meal.
About the Creator
Raymond G. Taylor
Author based in Kent, England. A writer of fictional short stories in a wide range of genres, he has been a non-fiction writer since the 1980s. Non-fiction subjects include art, history, technology, business, law, and the human condition.
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A blue summer
“Ask me in December,” my darling whispers to me in bed. I'm cold, shivering under the blankets. Under the second part of our story with us possibly dead. “Why are you so cold? Come closer to my side,” Duck cries. I can't hear his crying nor can I see it in the dark. I feel the wetness of his face against my skin. It warms my heart like a heat lamp. I am sorry. So sorry. It kills me when I can't save you. You're my family, my true love, Darling. But I feel us disappearing after every death, every strike against us, like a cleaver or an ax against our handholding, severing our tight embrace with their judgment. Their indifference. We aren't the perfect definition for a family. “When can we move out of this place? We need to leave before they come to try and separate us again…” I tremble in his arms. Duck sighs, cheeks drying. “Ask me in December, Red.”
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In The Blink of Her Eye
Time itself bent and morphed, allowing Shannon the precious seconds needed to see and adjust to the disaster unfolding in front of her. Each frame showed minute details she would have missed had the clock not slowed down until she heard every click of the hands as they swept toward the end of everything. If only she was being melodramatic...
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