short story



The young boy stumbles forward. His shoes flat on the metal of the crash barrier. Below him, a man in a small fishing boat stares up at the daredevil.
His father watches nonchalant.
His mother, on the opposite side of the road, turns to see her son walking across the crash barrier. She runs.
The Kodak camera lies broken on the opposite side of the road. The mother has the boy, holding him like China in her hands.
His father smiles that broken smile that never quite reached his eyes.
15 years later.
The Volkswagen drives over the bridge.
‘You lifted me onto that bridge when I was only learning to walk,’ the boy said.
The father smiles that broken smile. ‘You learned to walk, didn’t you?’

Sundays Story: Milo

I wrote Milo when I was eighteen and just finishing my final exams. I have no idea what it is about but it seemed like a great idea at the time as I scribbled it down in between studying Pythagoras’ theorem, reading science fiction books, comics, listening to The White Stripes, playing  Playstation games, and other forms of birth control

It’s from the short story collection The Good Life and I will be posting one story every Sunday. If you spot any typos, misspellings, bad grammar or if something feels off and you think you can improve it, feel free to point them out in the comments or use the contact form.