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The Last Shot

The Last Shot

by | Jun 22, 2017 | P, Paul D. Brazill, Short Story

I was ten minutes late. Chunky Baines stood in the crisp factory doorway with his hands on his hips or at least where his hips used to be. He was wearing a grubby string vest, stained tracksuit bottoms and a pair of worn tartan slippers, despite the fact that it was...
The Dominant Hand

The Dominant Hand

by | May 17, 2017 | P, Paul D. Brazill, Short Story

‘I met him on a Monday and although my heart didn’t stand still, per say, it certainly skipped a beat or two, I can tell you,’ said Martyna. She giggled. ‘But then that was Philly Bailey. He was a charmer, alright. Not to everyone’s taste I know, a bit rough around...
The Tall Man

The Tall Man

by | Nov 5, 2016 | P, Paul D. Brazill, Short Story

I sit on a bench in the darkened park and watch The Slug get out of his car. I am dressed head to foot in black and holding a black briefcase. The Slug walks up to an apartment block and opens the front door with a key. He doesn’t leave a real trail of slime behind...
Killing Mr Cornflakes

Killing Mr Cornflakes

by | Oct 22, 2012 | P, Paul D. Brazill, Short Story

Mr Cornflakes eased the two plastic carrier bags onto the wet pavement and wiggled his fingers. Squeezed his left arm. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he picked the bags back up and waddled on down the high street. +++++He’d changed...