Fox on a Boat

Tonight, I present to you the first in what I hope will be a series of posts - short story night! Inspired by this blog , I've been thinking about putting my stories on the blog. Hopefully this will help me to write more. Now, I'm rather new to the short story business, so please be gentle! The goal is to improve and become good at short fiction. I will probably write stories from about 500-1000 words. This one has 425 words. So, without further ado, here is my first attempt! The lake was his favourite place. There was an island in a middle, completely covered by a tree. He used to swim there and sit on the highest branch he could climb to, contemplating the world from above. This morning there was a cold wind, and his mum had not wanted him to go, but he had insisted until she gave in. He had to be there today, to meet Nate. Nate was new and had no other friends but him. He was Nate's only friend, so he had to go and meet him. He made some ham sandwiches and headed to t...

Thursday may be the new Friday, but Sunday remains plain old Sunday. I suppose I have a bit of a problem with Sundays. They feel a bit like visiting older relatives when you are a child, when you're bored and the day drags on and there are only a few biscuits to snack on.. Yes some of my childhood was like that. I was very keen on tea-time ( le quatre heures ), and hence I hated the days I couldn't get one, and, on top of that, had nothing to do. I usually ended up reading a book I had already read many times before. Sundays kind of feel like that to me. I want something to happen, I want to do things, but I usually sit around doing nothing and feeling bad about it, whilst the clock ticks forward and the feeling mounts. Isn't it weird how after about 1 pm, the day feels finished? Then, some Sundays, things happen, and it feels like visiting old relatives, but your cousins are there too, and you get up to all sorts of tricks and feel sad to leave. This is why I am not a...