Chris Gardner

The joys of self-publishing.


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Having a break from murder . . .

I’ve been writing short stories lately, after spending the last few years on true crime and novels, and rather enjoying the change. For some reason though, my creative thoughts keep turning to murder. Those of you who’ve looked at my book list may not find that so strange but the beauty of writing short stories is the variety and I don’t want to get stuck on the one genre.

‘A Twist in the Tail’ is a step away from that then and, since I have nothing to write about today, I thought you might like to read a little tale.

A Twist in the Tail

© Christine Gardner

Shelley sprawled her lithe body on the black rock, trailing the fingers of one hand in the waves as they caressed the shore. It was a glorious spring day and she stretched luxuriously and arched her body, her naked pert breasts pointing skywards.

She smiled secretly to herself. They would all be watching, she was well aware. And Daniel would pretend to be cross at her public display but she knew he was proud of her and pleased that everyone envied him. He was the most handsome of all the guys and they were the undisputed leading couple at the school.

She’d known Daniel pretty much all her life and had always known they were destined to be together, but it wasn’t until they hit puberty that they became a couple. Their relationship developed from friendly flirting to secret kisses and at last to passionate lovemaking. Both sets of parents were happy with the pairing and, since they’d waited until they were both sixteen before their first sexual encounter, had no problem at all with their connection.

Daniel was like the other half of Shelley; everything about him was the opposite of her. His hair was black like the rocks here at their favourite bay and his eyes, she told him, were like the ocean on a stormy day—green and grey and somehow changeable. His temperament was serene and not at all like the stormy sea, while Shelley could be, she admitted, somewhat tempestuous.

Shelley, Daniel said, had eyes as blue as the ocean on a calm summer’s day, and her hair, which was silky and fell to below her waist, was the colour of the white sand on the beach. Together they were complete; together they had everything.BookCoverImageconnections

Today was a special day. Daniel didn’t know yet but he and Shelley would be leaving the school—leaving their friends behind. She stroked her flat stomach, smiling her secret smile. When a girl became pregnant she and her partner had to join the family group and they’d see little of their old friends at the school until, each in turn, they would also join the family group.

Shelley and Daniel would no longer be the unofficial king and queen at the school but Shelley was looking forward to becoming a mother and she knew Daniel would make a great father. He had a lot more patience than she did.

She sat up at last. Daniel would be thrilled with her news and she suddenly couldn’t wait a minute longer to tell him he was going to be a daddy. She turned around to face the ocean and slid into the water. Gracefully she dove under the waves, swimming well underneath the white surf, and the cool water was welcome after the warmth of the sun.

Daniel and the rest of the school had watched her enter the water. He smiled, relieved; she tended to overdo the sun at times.

When she reached the group she emerged from the waves with a joyful jump into the air and the others joined in, playing like dolphins and showing off their blue-green tails, sparkling in the sunshine. None of the school noticed when Shelley took Daniel by the hand and led him away to their secret place to tell him her news. It was time for the school to find new leaders and time for Daniel and Shelley to join the family group and nurture their own little mermaids.

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Study in Blue–A very short story.

STUDY IN BLUE

©Christine Gardner

George Arnold got up at six thirty Wednesday morning. He had set the alarm for 6.45 but his inner clock had woken him at six. He lay under his warm eiderdown for half an hour, thinking through his plans for the day, then he jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. He allowed himself an extra five minutes in the shower since he was up so early and he soaped his obese body thoroughly, lifting up his hanging belly to lather underneath, making sure he was scrupulously clean.BookCoverImageconnections

He shaved his underarms, his chest, his legs and as much as he could reach of the rest of his body. When he’d finished showering, he shaved his face, and then very carefully his head. He looked at his bushy eyebrows and then whipped them off with the razor as well.

He stood, naked and relatively hairless, in front of the full-length bathroom mirror. Then he picked up the spray can and began to paint himself blue. It took him a good 20 minutes. Every time he thought he was finished he would spot another bit of white flesh. He shut his eyes tight and sprayed his face. He sprayed his ears, hoping the paint wouldn’t block the ear canals. He needed to hear especially well today. He sprayed blue paint on all his most private parts, parts no one but himself had seen. Well, not for 50 years anyway. He had certainly looked considerably different when his mother had changed his nappies.

When he was quite sure he was totally blue and dry, he opened the front door, and walked straight out into the bright sunlight. He held his head high, and his eyes front. He saw Mrs Jones in her front garden from the comer of his eye and said “Good Morning”, but she didn’t answer. She was a little deaf, after all.

George was beginning to enjoy himself. It was cold, but the paint kept him warm to some extent, and it was very liberating feeling the fresh air where he’d never felt it before. He had lived in this street all his life; he knew every house would have a curtain opened and a face peering out. He just looked straight ahead, all the way to the end of the street.

When he knocked on the door of number 35 Rose opened it, her mouth gaping wide open at the spectacle on her doorstep.

George knelt on the prickly welcome mat. “Rose, you were right. I have led a boring life up to now. I thought I was too old to change, but I was wrong. You see me now as I can be, free and uninhibited. Now will you marry me?”

Rose laughed and grabbed his hands to help him to his feet. She put her arms around his immense bulk, drew him inside and shut the door. “George,” she said, “How could I resist this gorgeous body? Of course l’ll marry you.”

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