Anglea (joined about 12 years ago)

Six minute story is brilliant as a daily mental excercise to write on a variety of topics. It involves a lot of trial and error before I finish in the given time.

I am often surprised which of my stories receive the most views, often those I planned to delete.

COPYRIGHT - please contact me in advance via a recent story page if you wish to use my stories in anyway.

A digital animation has been made from one of my stories




The gate closed behind them. Back to the land of the living, no walking into the light without a backward glance.

Angels watched the reluctant men, women and children hesitate, clutching hands with their loved ones, those that had passed on beforehand and had greeted them. Now comforting and advising it is the wrong time to stay. They were special, given a glimpse into heaven, a chance to alter their lives for good, inspire others that there is more to this life than most believe nowadays. They would return without the paralysing fear of death, they would welcome the last...

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The disco ball was turning whilst paramedics worked on the bodies. It was the worst ever disaster they had encountered inside a club. Tiny mirror squares reflected human carnage, twisted metal, unrecognizable things beyond possible description.

The public were told an explosion caused the building to collapse inwards trapping everyone including the emergency crews. Dreadful tragedy. Months of mourning.

Dan a fourteen year old hacker managed to get into a computer that isn’t supposed to exist. His parents listed him missing hours after he posted the truth on the internet - that all survivors of the explosion were killed on...

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Bombs were the last thing on his mind.

Everyone was hiding under desks, wary of the slightest sound whereas he was wondering how soon before people registered the change in him.

They might be in shock and forget. But what if they didn't? Would he have to convince the survivors they were hallucinating?

Crouching in under the lower shelve in the store cupboard Jack could feel his ears growing and wings strain against his shirt. It wouldn't be long before his faerie body would be a giveaway, hopefully the others would have been rescued by then and he could stay...

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The ghost girls kept appearing on the photographs. Even on the really old one of my grandfather.

I wasn't that concerned, it was bound to be an effect of those new pills from the doctor. The leaflet had a million and one side effects including hallucinations.

On my seventy first birthday all the family were round my house and I was just blowing out the candles on the three level chocolate cake when there was a pounding on the door.


They took me into the kitchen and closed the door. Sparing the rest of the family the embarasssment of...

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In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley all the way back to England where he discovered that it had been a mistake, he was meant to be in France, 1945. Time travelling isn't as accurate as all that.

Perhaps he would ought to do something a bit different for a change. Go back home. See what changes have been made. Would it be recognisable?

Jack the Ripper decided to return Whitechapel. 1888. London.

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No shoes or socks in the snow, JaKK was only focused on finding the settlement. Escaping was the easy part, finding his family might be hard. Physical discomfort was not part of his programming, his body able to withstand any extremes of temperature.

The scientists had made them. Fed them. Studied them. Experimented on them. Killed them. Few were left.

After two days he was still beside the forest, the neverending trees.

He might be alone. Lost.

But for the first time in his existence.

He was free.

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Peasants. That's what he called them. To their faces. Idiots. Perverts.

The fact they were his employers didn't seem to matter at that very moment. They sacked him and it wasn't until he was standing in the street in the pouring rain that he wondered what on earth had happened.

One moment he was being congratulated for achieving the top sales rank that month, next he was shoved out the back door clutching his P45.

As he looked through the window, he could see Riley, smirking. Something was odd about this as Riley was his best friend.

Back in the...

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Sex wasn't always the first thing on Mandy's mind but it was today. The long zip at the front of the dress was perfect for what she had in mind. The photo of the online date didn't do him justice, he was much better looking. Even the meeting spot was quirky, the old churchyard. He knew she was into anything ancient, spooky, derelict from their messages.

He had suggested a picnic by the river which was adjoining the graveyard then said he'd take her home to meet his mother who always wanted to see his dates. She was very traditional...

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Walking towards the light, the people wondered if they would be provided clothes or would they have to keep walking in the nude. They were unaware that they were still dressed in their own clothes. The drugs made them see the world around them incorrectly. They looked in awe at the lush green foliage, trees, grasses. All they could see ahead was the magnificent building, the place where they would be saved, rejuvenated, find themselves in heaven.

By the time the drugs wore off, they would find themselves in hell. All the rapists, murderers, backstabbing gossips, paedophiles never looked back...

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I am love with a robot. As she undresses for bed I know that her body will be perfectly matched to mine, her skin soft to my touch, her responses exactly what I need to hear. She wears whatever I suggest and buys what I tell her. We are the perfect couple.

The next morning she was gone. Note on the pillow. Sorry I can't do this anymore. I need to be free to be myself. She is in the living room, unplugged, wires pulled out of her heart.

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