Stuart's Writing Projects

  ‘Daniel? Have you caught anything yet?’ Simon's voice cut through Dan’s daydream. He sat up and looked down from the rocks. ‘Nothing yet, but this fishing thing takes time.’ ‘Well maybe if you were fishing instead of sleeping you might actually catch something. This isn't a day out, Daniel. We need food.’ With that Simon strode off up the beach. Dan watched him go and resisted the urge to stick two fingers up at him.   He lay back on the warm rock and closed his eyes and let his mind wander back over the last few days. He had been a huge fan of “SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST” since it first aired five years ago. He could hardly believe he was actually on the show. The survival show for the new millennium had been a huge success.   Previously it had been in a jungle somewhere in Australia. But this year for the first time they had all been taken to an island in the pacific. Three days ago, all seven of them had been dropped onto the beach via helicopter, then a boat tu...

 Hannah wheeled Mr Clancey out through the double doors of the hospital into the gardens.  The sun was shining, and the day was particularly warm.  Hannah took a deep breath in savouring the beautiful morning.  She had a feeling today would be a good one. ‘Thank God for fresh air.’ Clancey said, lighting a cigarette.  ‘I don’t know how much longer I can stand it in there with all those sick people.’ ‘You’re sick too, Mr Clancey.’  Hannah replied. ‘No, dammit, I just broke my damn leg.  Plus, I don’t spend all day coughing and puking.  When can I get out of here anyway?’ ‘When the doctor says you’re fit enough.’  Hannah put the brakes on the wheelchair and sat on the bench next to her patient.  Despite the warm weather the gardens were mostly empty.  Patients were either inside being sick or around the front of the building in the smoking area.  The gardens only tended to get busy during visiting times.  But Clancey had ins...

 The sun was high in the sky as I walked into the park and the temperature was already in the high twenties.  It was the hottest November on record according to the radio.  Global warming, apparently.  There was me worried about my own longevity and it looks like I might out last the planet at this rate.  Still, a warm November in England was nice.  I sat on the bench and took in the world around me while I waited.  The birds chirping, children playing, a car backfiring and a police siren in the distance.  The peace of the inner city.  It was a week since we laid Peter to rest, although technically he just slid into a furnace.  I still hadn’t really come to terms with it.  Losing your wife and your friends is tough but inevitable.  Losing your son is something different, and in my circumstances, a little weird.  I had waited a couple of days before reading the card Vicky had given me and plucking up the courage to call her...