Spliced – Magpie Tales

June 8, 2014freyathewriter 18 Comments

– Spliced –

Harry stared at the reels as they whizzed round and round, the tale of the finished tape hitting the playback heads at each turn. He had lost track of how long it had been since the recording had finished, how many times he had splashed whisky into his glass, how many times the phone had rung, rung, rung and then stopped, only to begin again a few moments later.

It had been an impulse buy. He had always wanted a vintage quarter track recorder – it reminded him of growing up, of a happy home, of his parents. It reminded him of a time when his life was simple.

The man in the second-hand shop had called him back just as he was leaving. Harry could remember the feel of the smooth, slightly dented brass doorknob under his fingers as he paused and looked back.

“’Ere, mate. You might as well ‘ave these, free gratis like. I ain’t got no use for ‘em.”

He brought the tapes back in an equally vintage Tesco carrier bag, turned inside out.

His wife had reacted strangely when she saw the machine set up on the dining table, even more so when he put the bulging old carrier bag next to it. Suddenly, she had to be anywhere but at home with him.

Now he knew why. He leaned forward and pressed the red ‘Stop’ button. Silence enveloped him.

The truth will out. Even after fifty years of marriage, there was always something new to learn about your wife.

——

Here’s my latest entry to Magpie Tales. Another fabulous photo prompt – I’d love to have and use one of these machines, although I’d hate to be in the same position as Harry….

I hope you enjoyed this, do let me know what you think!

Rip Tide – VisDare 64

June 7, 2014June 7, 2014freyathewriter 9 Comments

I pushed the little paper boat round and round the kitchen table, imagining it sailing off into a picture-perfect sunset.

What the hell was this all about? And where was Jo?

My stomach rumbled, reminding me it was well past dinner time. I glared at the oven, the hob, the CD player. Normally they would be doing things by now. The oven would be humming merrily, its light giving the food inside a warm, yellow glow. Something would be bubbling on the hob and the CD player would be playing something soothing.

Now, all was silent.

I mooned around the flat, lost in the emptiness. I held the little boat in the palm of my hand, trying to read its unwritten message. I was no good at subtlety.

I turned the CD player on. The song filled the room and all became clear.

Enya’s ‘Sail Away’.

Jo had gone.

——-

Here’s my latest entry into VisDare this week, the prompt run by the lovely Angela. I did struggle a bit with this one, until I heard this Enya song in a shop this afternoon. As the young, cool kids say these days – Boom! I hope you enjoy it. Take part, why not?

Blowout – Friday Fictioneers

June 6, 2014freyathewriter 29 Comments

Here is my latest entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

– Blowout –

You’ll damage your eyesight, watching TV in the dark.

That’s what Mum used to say. She would turn the living room light on and destroy my fantasy hideaway.

Mum’s gone now, they all are. I am forced to make a choice. Should I use what little power I have managed to conserve on light, or on connecting with the outside world?

Candles it is.

I shiver, pulling my blanket close, cold fingers rasping against the harsh fibres. The gales are nearing hurricane force again tonight, the wind turbines have been shut down for weeks.

So much for a cozy hideaway.

—-

Click on the blue froggy below to read others’ offerings!