Get into the Halloween mood.

Thirteen Tales of Ghosts. Settle down in the dark and lose yourself in fear….


www.scottandrewbailey.uk

A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Other are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.

Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.

Check it out at Amazon.

Available on Kindle and paperback for those who prefer the feel of the paper while huddling by the fire – on your own – in the dark – with that noise behind you……

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Dancing Disaster

So this is a direct quote from Theresa May’s speech at the Tory Conference.

Leaving without a deal – introducing tariffs and costly checks at the border – would be a bad outcome for the UK and the EU.

It would be tough at first, but the resilience and ingenuity of the British people would see us through.

Was that supposed to be inspiring somehow? All I got from that as is this.

Doesn’t matter how bady we fuck it up – doesn’t affect us. You poor sods can bear the brunt of it.

Again

She is literally dancing on the graves of her victims.

II IMG_8455 2

Maddening

By Scott Bailey © 2016

It’s a maddening
Saddening state of affairs
That everyone knows
The rulers don’t care
And nobody does a fucking thing
And the includes
Me

The shadows around us
A deep as the night
Masquerade as stars
Shining vile light
Showing the way
To the promised land
Lead by the hand

There it awaits us
The cage of our choice
Fully charged senses
Completely blocked voice
Thus is the fate
Of all but a few
All of us damn lazy
Fools

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Lazy

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Hunter

By Scott Bailey © 2015

Amber brown bristles
Fletched true
Sighted
On the smooth straight shaft
Knocked
Creak of wood
And leather
Tense flesh
Strength of arm
Years
Of hard work
Hard life
Peaked
In tense flesh
Aimed

Deep russet red
Undulating tight
Over perfect form
Moving with surety
Strength and grace
Slender neck
Proud eyes
High points
Antlers spectacular

Slow high-speed
Flight
True
Through high trunks
Ancient towers
Sturdy and rough
Flicking leaves
Pungent smell
Of spilt sap
Over lazy ferns

Struck
Sunk deep
In perfect flesh
Deep russet red
Covered in bright
Fresh crimson
Hunter
Has hunted

Dusk
Deep red sky
Flecked with sparks
Orange
Embers fly
On aroma
Of roasted flesh
Venison
Consumed
Hunter sated
For now

Started awake
Cold
Stone and straw
Shit and piss
And chains
A dream
Of a memory
Despite all
A happy dream
Amidst horror
And darkness

Weakness
Flesh wasted
In forgotten depths
Waiting
For nothing
Time drips
Away
Into nothing
Sodden straw

Stronger arms
Clad in chain
Dragged from darkness
Down cold
Stone corridors
Into light
Hammering eyes
Screams and shouts
Hammering ears

Then rope
And wood
Strong scent
Of wet rope
Rough against
Weak neck
And wood
Creaking underfoot
Screams and jeers
A clunk
Freedom from weight
From the wait
Exhilaration
Then……

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Lazy

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Recovery

By Scott Bailey © 2014

The country’s getting richer
on the shoulders of the poor
The economy is booming
but blood stains mar the floor
A thrifty generation
careful with what they earned
Now watch it all dissipate
belying what they learned
For they are forced by empathy
to shore up their progeny
Or watch them being bled
by powerful gluttony
By vampires way up high
in lofty towers sleek
Deaf to pleas of mercy
They cannot hear us speak
And with contempt the vampires
farm their herds with glee
Until we have no more to give
And they’ll see the fallacy

Image from Pixabay

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

www.scottandrewbailey.uk