Stories

The Rain Clock

The rain began just as Elsie reached the edge of the village green. She ducked under the eaves of the old clockmaker's shop, and discovered raindrops that held entire worlds.

The Letter in the Grey

Rain streaked the windows of the tram as Matthew watched the city melt into dusk. He took this route every Thursday—same time, same seat—until something shifted.

A Pint of Relativity

In a dim, tobacco-scented corner of The Crown & Anchor, that venerable Manchester pub with its scarred oak beams, time itself became negotiable over a single pint.

The Garden of Yesterday

We are all refugees from our own choices. But what if escape meant stepping backward through a garden gate into a version of life you'd left behind?

The Allotment Gate

The padlock had seized again. Danny gave it a sharp tap, same as he'd done every Sunday for eighteen months, and felt it yield with an unfamiliar resistance.

Waiting on the Tide

The stones knew her footfall by heart.

The Platform at Paddington

The 15:42 to Bath Spa was delayed, and Margaret Thornley found herself standing beneath the great Victorian arches, watching steam curl upward through impossible sunshine.

The Lamplighter's Path

Margaret's retirement had brought weightlessness rather than relief. The evening walks through Whitechapel became her anchor—until she met the lamplighter.

The Weight of Names

The ink bleeds backward through time.

Palimpsest

It is nearly seven on a sodden October evening in Budapest. The city trembles under drizzle, tram bells muttering through centuries of rain.

The Observation

Margaret's last coherent thought was about the tea going cold on her bedside table—Earl Grey, two sugars, just as Harold had made it for thirty-seven years.

Blood Memory

The girl was drowning in his laboratory.

The Hours Between

The first time she came, Oliver Whyborne thought he was dying.

The Clock in Room 12

The clock was older than the wallpaper. Its face was yellowed and faintly cracked, its hands blunt as if worn from years of pointing.

The Steps at Millgate Cutting

There are certain places where time grows thin.

The View from the Sixth Floor

It began with the hum again. That relentless buzz low in the city's chest. The kind only the lonely ever really hear.

Vespers, 1823

In the stone-cold silence of Durham Cathedral, some voices never stop singing. What happens when the past reaches forward and the present reaches back?

The Listeners

The Edison Standard Phonograph sat on Laura's workbench like a brass-bodied insect, its horn gleaming under the studio's LED panels.

The Name Game

Humphrey Dumphy had always believed that certain cruelties of existence were preordained—death, taxes, and the inevitable playground chant.

Echoes in the Sheets

Hector Quill had always been the sort of chap who faded into the wallpaper—a forty-year-old reference librarian at the Calverley Archives.

What Remains

In the fading light of an autumn evening, Peter Dearlove trudged along the overgrown path that skirted the ancient village of Brackenwood.

Echoes of What Might Have Been

Emily Valle opened the silver locket at Windermere's edge, where her ancestors had wandered since Wordsworth's time. Inside, no portrait—only an empty frame.

The Borrowers of Sorrow

Dr Sarah Forrest had left the journal open at page forty-seven the previous evening, Cornelius Whitmore's spidery handwriting trailing off mid-sentence.

The Impossible Distance

A supernatural romance novella. Tom, a painter in Pembrokeshire, Wales, and Lauren, a web designer in coastal Maine, connect across the Atlantic through means that should be impossible.

Available as an eBook via Draft2Digital

The Guide

Five interconnected stories about the afterlife, bound together by Sarah, a guide who helps souls understand what comes next. Blurring the line between the everyday and the extraordinary.

More stories coming soon

Check back regularly for new time-slip fiction and speculative tales.