First There was Darkness ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
Then there was darkness some more, but now there was also light, small and fluttering, like candlelight, but gradually getting stronger…
Susan Anwin
The Boar’s Head ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
She tiptoed out of her room, avoiding the creaky floorboards, crept down the stairs with her heartbeat thundering in her ears.
Talk of Armadale Trees ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
She stayed just for a couple of days in Armadale on the Isle of Skye and chanced upon this pine grove during one of her daytrips.
Dragonfly-man ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
The dragonfly-man dreamed its ageless, dreamless dreams of endless dimensions, of past, present and future and waited, while generations came and went…
Daddy is Driving the Car ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
Granny Ainsley chuckled. “Let’s just say one of your forefathers was a little too curious.” Her glance became distant, dreamy. “To see what’s out there.”
Fog-people ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
This time he didn’t watch out for the road. He heard sounds now, voices chanting, whispering, singing in an unknown language. He caught them from the corners of his eyes…
People of the Green Cloud ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
…houses and bridges grew out of the trunks, an interconnected mesh of living green, under the green clouds, above the green mist…
Eddie’s lousy Saturday ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
Do you waste your life away to spite your parents, Eddie? Is that your comeback for having to fulfill their dreams, and failing?
Positive Energy ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
She glanced at her phone. She still had Fox as wallpaper. He seemed to be watching her with those stormcloud eyes of his…
Crackling fire, mulled wine, Satan ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
Everything is possible when the fog descends. Dobogókő is also stunning in the spring; really, I’m hard pressed to choose my favourite season there.
Soul for Sale ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
The survivor moved on. He didn’t know how long he had been wandering, as the sky was the same nondescript gray, with no evidence of sunrise or sunset.
Drifter ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
“She turned and saw the pince-nez lying abandoned on the concrete. The man was nowhere to be seen.”
The Last Dawn ~ A short story by Susan Anwin
“It was the subtlest form of torture, making sure you’re aware that these are the very last hours of your existence.”
A series of Susan Anwin’s short stories is launching at Art Here Art Now tomorrow
Let us introduce you writer Susan Anwin, whose short stories are going to appear on our website from tomorrow on for six weeks!
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