Rose stopped short, skidding slightly along the crumbly, dusty mountain path on which she had been jogging, happily listening to her music, enjoying the warmth of the day on her back. She blinked a few times, tried to catch her breath, and then walked back a few feet to where she had thought she had seen the strange sight, the one that had stopped her morning run rather abruptly.

And there it still was. Two enormous pink butterflies playing together in the sunshine, flitting back and forth, their wings glinting, both beautiful.

Rose watched for some time, unable to believe...

The coffee was cold now, but she sipped it anyway, imagining the heat. She blew away non-existent steam and let the rain soak her skin. She had been sitting in the same seat for over an hour, waiting, waiting, waiting. There was still a part of her that hoped he was going to turn up. But most of her knew that he would not. The coffee she had bought for him was opposite her, and she watched the thin raindrops falling into it, making holes in the disappearing foam.

He had never told her that he would be here. They...

He didn't think he was much of a cat person until he met Matilda. Matilda was a small, scraggy, skinny cat (or maybe kitten, he wasn't completely sure) who had turned up out of nowhere on the day he moved into the house.

Obviously a stray, with patches of pale pink skin shining through the missing squares of black fur, his heart ached when he saw her. An actual, physical pain which surprised him. He was not a caring person. He scrabbled through boxes marked 'KITCHEN' until he found an old tin of tuna that had been shoved to the...

I don't like hotel rooms. I don't like the idea that anyone might have stayed in here before, slept in that bed, used that bathroom, that toilet. I prefer my own place, but that's impossible due to the fact that my boss has seen fit to send me on a course to 'improve my communication skills'. That's a joke. My communication skills are fine, thank you very much. I just don't like talking to him because it sends my blood pressure sky high. But that's beside the point, I'm here, and I'm staying.

I'm staying because I can't leave the...

The waves crashed into the enormous ship and smashed mightily into the sides, reducing them to no more than sodden firewood. Men clung to the sails and mast as the captain yelled, "Abandon ship! Abandon ship! Lord have mercy on us all!"

And the first few men who obeyed their captain were lost forever to the ferocious seas, pulled down by the weight of the ocean, by the fierceness of the waves as they rolled and rocked and never stopped moving. The rest were too afraid to leave the confines of what had been their home for these many long...

As he wandered through the countryside, he couldn't quite believe he'd done it. He'd done it. Gene Black had actually done it. Finally. And although it had been something he had been planning for months, years, maybe his whole life, he didn't feel quite as good as he thought he would.

He had dreamed of being a murderer for as long as he could remember. He had wanted to feel life draining away in his hands, to watch as the soul departed the body. If it did. It was all about experimentation and, perhaps understandably, there was nothing he could...

Sandy was impressed. Her son, John, had never thrown a ball back like that before - so hard and fast that it bypassed her completely and flew over the wall at the bottom of the small garden they shared. "Nice one, Johnny!" she yelled. "Let me go and get it, I'll be right back!"

She yanked open the wooden gate recessed into the red brick wall and entered the narrow alleyway at the back of her house - and all the other houses like it. She looked left and right and spotted the ball rolling away from her, towards the...

The mannequin looked so real, but was not. Apparently. At least that's what Mr Saunders always said, and he had to be right. He was a teacher, wasn't he? He was my teacher and, at nine years old, I believed every word he said.

And yet, every morning as I passed it on my walk to school, the mannequin - whom I had named Joyce - in the window of J. T. Kingsley's department store seemed to watch me as I went. Seemed to call to me, to invite me in. That was, after all, her job. But she did...

I watched as the creature - the whatever it was - floated on the soft breeze towards me. It had wings, but it didn't seem to want to use them, gliding through the air instead. As it got closer, my nerves started to act up.

I hate insects.

I hate anything with more than four legs and I'm not that keen on anything with more than two, if I'm honest about things.

I felt cheated as I watched it. The first sunny day in weeks, and I had a chance to enjoy it, sitting in the garden with a book...

The coldness of the water caught her by surprise, ripping what little breath she had managed to grab hold of from her lungs, leaving her vulnerable and blinded.

Her feet were bound, but her arms were free; she had managed to untangle the untidy and hastily tied knots as she walked from the boat to the end of the plank. Thankfully. Although it was still a struggle, at least she could at least try to save herself.

Pirates and their superstitions. No women on board the ship when it sets sale. Ridiculous. And yet, they said, there were enough incidents...