Anglea (joined almost 11 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




Cameras lie. Greasy gray hair shining with oil tied back with a cheap rubber band. XXL sized elastic joggers pulled over a stained white t-shirt, the underarms looking greeny yellow. Round face, tiny eyes. Arms folded trying to hide the belly.

Security rushing onto the stage, standing between Sonia and her tormentors, skinny family members disgusted with her appearance and laziness.

Sonia reliving her bravery, assertiveness finally expressing deep held thoughts and emotions. Given the space and security to speak.

Now watching the tape she could not recognise the overweight woman. She was thin wasn't she? She did not even...

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2070. Last digits of the code. No matter what they did, I was not going to tell them the rest of it. My undercover mercenary training would allow me to live for longer than the other hostages.

On the last day of the siege, everyone was dead but three of us. Now they wanted us to fight against ourselves to the death, only way we could be given life saving water. Jackson saved us the guilt, died at 10 am. Lewis, a meek accountant, killed himself. This wasn't the way the captors were expecting to spend their afternoon so decided...

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The last I saw of the angel was at sunrise yesterday. I knew that one day I'd meet him again, the certainty was so strong that the actual date and time felt on the tip of my tongue. Morgan is the name he gave me. Morgan Freemantle. He appeared at my side just when I needed some one the most, when my sister collapsed on our long walk away from our home, the abuse, neglect.

As I was comforting her, smoothing her long blond hair away from her sweating face, telling her everything would be ok even though we were...

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My singing was awful. Didn't matter as the audience were drunk, I could see Lorna sticking her tongue down John's throat as the light swept over the audience. They didn't seem to care that anyone might notice and tell John's wife in a text during the interval. After my horrendous attempt at Billy Holiday I heard a voice in my ear, it was a child asking me to talk to someone called Betty who had red hair, an addiction to pickled eggs and had three cats called Tom, Dick and Harry.

She was sitting in the last row and only...

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Stinkbombs ruined my perfect wedding night. The odious smell wouldn't leave me, even after a few days. I knew it was a sign, one of many I had been getting ever since I announced my engagement. Today was our fourth day in the paradise resort high in the mountains and John hadn't returned from hiking with the local guide we'd hired.

Of course there was a reasonable explanation. Lost track of time, minor accident, losing something, getting engrossed in a special flower or bird. He was into nature my John. Tall, very slim with blond wavy hair, striking blue eyes...

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Fish meant for market was found dumped in a bin outside the school. The mother believed the rotting smell would disguise her hidden bundle beneath. Her post-birth addled brain forgetting only papers were supposed to be in that container and what she tried to dispose would be eventually found.

Margarita wasn't a bad person. She did what she thought best at the time. Took her baby to the church and left her on the steps timing so the priest would find it. The bloody towels, rags, her own clothing stuffed below the fish. She kept the umbilical cord and placenta....

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Acid ate up the canvas, leaving the moonlit scene unrecognisable. No longer priceless, breathtaking, desirable. Now a screwed up mess, destined for the trash can, ruined beyond any hope of restoration. Mr. Slovenias the gallery owner cried for the first time in years that day.

Jack spent his first night in jail. Unrepentant. Glad he'd ruined the masterpiece. Certain in the knowledge his act would save humanity.

Betty, Jack's long suffering mother realised that for the first time in her life, she was relieved he was spending the night elsewhere. In fact, if she were really honest with herself, she...

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He set the plate before her. Two slices of charcoal blackened toast, plump stoneless cherry jam, no butter or spread. It wasn't punishment for climbing out the bedroom window to staying out late again. It was all they ever ate after mom died. They got through a loaf of bread a day.

She no longer cared what happened. All she could think about was Ross. He cooked her pumelled bloody steak, creamy mash with chives, grilled tomatoes covered in mixed grain pepper from a silver pot. Loved her with food, milky coffee and kisses.

Next week she was going to...

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I tried to avoid holding the parcel knowing what it contained but had to or else it would look suspicious. I know that Tom would be eager to open the well travelled box wrapped in thick brown paper covered in butterfly stamps and tied up with old string, secured with a familiar wax seal. He would probably visualise his wife dipping the wax stick in a candle, waiting for the melting to begin, carefully dropping a few blobs in the right places, hoping to avoid burning her fingers.

Wanda of course did not put lovingly baked cakes and pies into...

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'Where the bloody hell are you?' asked Colin as I picked up the phone. 'I've been calling all day. I'm with John and Sarah at the pub, we're waiting for you.'

'Don't you dare speak to me like that Col, I'm fed up of it. Why do you think I'm not answering.' Then I let him have it. Months of frustration at his obsessive calls, controlling nature and his habit of always turning up wherever or whoever I was with. On a first date....that didn't put Col off. He'd try and sit down with us. Making love early in the...

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