Hot Crisps

Grey Moon – Sunday (ep. 75)

“How’s your afternoon going?” asked Fuen.

“Not bad,” said Reala. “I think I have invented a new flavour of crisps.”

“Oh really?” asked Fuen.

“Yep,” replied Reala, holding out some hot dog flavoured crisps. “Combining British crisps with an American flavour.”

“Nice,” said Fuen. “If they’re popular you’re gonna make a packet.”

Ko-Fi | Patreon | Etsy | Kindle | Skillshare | Threadless

Bunny Hunt

Capricorn (ep. 82)

He looked at the cage. He hated that rabbit. It’s white fur and ruby-red eyes. They burned in the dark. Most children his age liked Easter. He hated it. He knew what happened to the neighbour’s cat last year. He wondered if his parents knew. Probably not, they were too busy out drinking at that bar. He heard the latch coming loose on the hutch. He watched the rabbit as it left the room on tonight’s hunt. Easter bunnies should be feared.

Ko-Fi | Patreon | Etsy | Kindle | Skillshare | Threadless

Prof Green

Grey Moon – Sunday (ep. 74)

Fuen stormed through the doors.

“Oh dear,” said Reala, “need rum?”

“Yes please,” said Fuen. “Make it a double.”

“What’s up?” asked Reala.

“The chicklets,” sighed Fuen. “You know they said I was old and out of touch because I didn’t know who Professor Green was.”

“Ah,” replied Reala, sliding Fuen a drink.

“Little gits,” moaned Fuen. “Of course I know who he is. I’ve been playing Cluedo for years.”

Ko-Fi | Patreon | Etsy | Kindle | Skillshare | Threadless

Dialed Alpaca

Grey Moon – Saturday (ep. 72)

“Good evening, Moons,” said Reala, answering the phone.

“Hello Reala, it’s Alpaca,” said Alpaca.

“Oh no,” sighed Reala. “What now?”

“Just letting you know, I’ve set up a telephone hotline,” said Alpaca. “You can call me for spiritual teachings and lessons.”

“Really?” said Reala, bracing herself.

“Yeah,” said Alpaca. “Dial-a-llama…”

Ko-Fi | Patreon | Etsy | Kindle | Skillshare | Threadless

Cheshire Pub

Capricorn (ep. 81)

He noticed a peculiar crack across the bar top. About four inches long, shaped like a Cheshire cat’s grin.

“Barman!” he shouted again. The service was as bad as the health and safety record.

The plaster on the wall had a crack too. About two feet long, grinning sideways like the bar top’s crack.

He made a note that the building was dilapidated. He would see this place closed.

A creak of wood and he noticed another crack. Under his feet, six feet long, opening like a Cheshire cat’s grin.

Ko-Fi | Patreon | Etsy | Kindle | Skillshare | Threadless