Could you write a short story in EXACTLY 100 words? I had a go today... You stand in the corner, silent. Your legs, your arms, your back all curve luxuriously, solipsistically stealing space. You are taunting me, teasing me. Come. Closer. Covet. I circle you, regarding with giddy wonder the graceful whorls and lattices traced intricately…
A few of my favourite things
See my list of Goodreads just over there to the right? I thought it was about time I shared my thoughts about some of my favourite books. I do this hesitatingly, because I'm a tad cynical about "my favourite anything" lists. I suspect people angst over making one because they're worried about what others will…
I Grow Old
Apologies to those who have already read this story. I realised today I had mistakenly put it in the Trash. It has been revived. It started on a Tuesday in September. She was in the shower, lathering up, pondering the day to come, when she happened to look down at her hands as they moved up…
Jasper the despot cat
I love cats. I own two - Samantha and Lucy - and our neighbourhood is full of them. There is only one, however, of note: Jasper, the cat next door. He's huge. He's intimidating. He scares the living bejesus out of my two poor little girls. You always know when he's coming because, incongruously, this huge boy wears…
The Writer
I wrote this story to be the "anchor" of a short story collection which is still a work in progress. Each story can stand alone and be read as a complete piece, but they are all linked to this one – in some cases so subtly that the reader may have to search for the connection.…
Our Father
I wrote this story after someone close to me had died. I held this person's hand as they passed. I wanted to capture the profoundness of that moment. When I was little, just before bedtime, my mother used to wrap me in my dressing gown and take me outside to see the stars. “Who made them?”…
Three
This was originally going to be a three-part short story, the first part told from the woman's viewpoint, the second from the man's, the third from the nurse's. I stopped after the first. It felt like enough. Maybe one day I'll finish it. The Woman First, the gift of the anonymous gown, stiff with cheap…
The Belfast Question
This story is based on something that really happened to me to when I went back to Northern Ireland in my 20s. I was born there, and my family shifted to New Zealand when I was four. My father was a Presbyterian minister in Country Armagh (termed “Bandit Country” in 1975 by then Northern Ireland…
Patricia Bell, Author 