Category Archives: Uncategorized

by Michael Bloor (first published in Occulum , summer 2017) They keep asking me why I did it. Then, as soon as I start to explain, D C Grainger butts in with: ‘Was this on the morning of June 11th?’ I deal with that and then D C Singh chimes in with: ‘Did you tellContinue reading “The Great Book of Angharad”

by Michael Bloor (first published in Ink, Sweat & Tears, October 7th, 2017) Mary MacLeod was busy restocking the shelves of the shop in the NCOs’ canteen. She liked the job well enough, though the walk to work through mean streets was hard to bear on a May day that put her in mind ofContinue reading “Maryhill Barracks, Glasgow, May 21st 1941”

by Michael Bloor (first published in The Fiction pool, sept 22nd 2017) Not many holidaymakers know about La Gomera: it’s one of the smaller Canary Islands and doesn’t have an international airport. We go there to walk in the mysterious cloud forest and we only rarely bump into fellow-tourists, so we were quite shocked toContinue reading “A Cloud Forest Tale”

by Michael Bloor (first published in The Fiction Pool, Sept 19th 2017) ‘Hello. You have eight messages. First message, received Friday, May 20th at 6.30 pm…’ ‘You dirty nonce! Messin’ with kids’ lives. I know where you live, you shit! I’ll be round to see you wi’ a pair o’ garden shears. Guess what for?’Continue reading “Twenty-First Century Mr Chips”

Michael Bloor (first published in Scribble, Issue 73, Spring 2017 pp. 11-14) I’m relieved that Jane has invited me to the funeral. The way things had been between us in recent years, I’d have felt uncomfortable being here without an invitation, even though it’s my twin brother that we’re cremating. As the curtains swish shutContinue reading “The Divided Womb”

(first published in The Flash Fiction Press May 5, 2017) by Michael Bloor Jenny Birkett was sitting in the bar with five fellow psychiatrists at an academic conference. A quiet middle-aged woman with quiet clothes and a gentle manner, it wasn’t unusual for her to take little part in professional chitchat. The discussion was aboutContinue reading “Commuting in Warsaw”

Michael Bloor (first published in Flash Fiction Press January 5th 2017 A routine visit to the town library with my daughter. My pedagogic overtures rejected, I drift over to a display of new books. A shock: the photo on the dust-jacket of a book about the Channel Islands. It’s Fermain Bay, Guernsey. For years, IContinue reading “Fermain Bay”

(First published by Flash Fiction Magazine January 4, 2017) By Michael Bloor The trees should never have been planted in that place: the slope was too steep for a mechanical harvester. Alan’s father reckoned they had been planted in the 80s, as a tax-dodge, with no thought of selling the timber. Now the Estate wasContinue reading “The Rogue Spruce”

(first published in Platform for Prose, Nov 1st, 2016) Michael Bloor For want of reading matter (other than the label on the sauce bottle), I was reading the story in my gran’s magazine. It seemed that Madeleine, a nurse with a mass of dark curls and a pretty retroussé nose, had been initially drawn toContinue reading “The Carpet Circular Affair”

Michael Bloor (first published in Ink Sweat & Tears Oct 15, 2016) She didn’t think things could get much better. Madame Blavatsky blew out all the candles on the cake, closed her eyes and wished. Each of the encircling adepts then extinguished their own single candles. A cloud crossed the lambent Sicilian moon, she breathedContinue reading “Happy Birthday, Dear Madame Blavatsky”