Citizen Wyckam-Smith

by Michael Bloor (first published in Literally Stories, 27/09/22) Have you ever ordered a DVD of an old film that, once upon a time, you thought was wonderful (back when you were at an impressionable age, say, between the ages of 15 and 25)? And when you settled down to watch it, accompanied by aContinue reading “Citizen Wyckam-Smith”


by Michael Bloor (first published in Scribble, No.95, Autumn 2022) The minister, the Reverend Donald MacAlistair, left the Health Centre with a spring in his step. He’d attended for his annual check-up, a service the centre offered to all their over-65s. His blood pressure had reduced since last year and he’d lost half a stoneContinue reading “Earwigging”

An International Incident

By Michael Bloor (first published in The Drabble, 15/6/2022) In 1934, Derby County FC toured Germany, invited by the German Football Association. A year previously, Hitler swept to power, banning all other political parties. The manager told the players that the British Ambassador had insisted that, prior to kick-off, the Derby team must line-up withContinue reading “An International Incident”

Role Call

by Michael Bloor (first published in the Potato Soup Journal, 15/5/22) Working at Larchwood House suited Ben very well. Ben had trained at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. But four years after graduating from RADA, the only acting job he’d been offered was in a Christmas panto at the Wirksworth Empire: he played anContinue reading “Role Call”

Last Journey

(first published in The Drabble, 24th April, 2022)  By Michael Bloor The stream gushed out of a tumble of rocks on the mountain-side, half-hidden by bracken and gorse. Down from the source, the stream threaded a shallow valley among the hills, swirling around alder roots. Lesser tributaries joined and mingled. Trout hid in holes in theContinue reading Last Journey

The Otherworld Hiding Place

by Michael Bloor First published in Literally Stories, March 30th 2022 Schiehallion, aka The Faery Hill of the Caledonians, is a magnificent, isolated, rugged, limestone ridge in Highland Perthshire, in the plumb-centre of Scotland. I’ve climbed it many times in the past, but now my arthritic knees deny me that pleasure: the jarring of theContinue reading “The Otherworld Hiding Place”


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