Table for three

They didn’t come today. They had been coming every day, and the tips just seemed to grow. An elderly couple and a young stud with a neck tattoo. Whatever. Bobbi wasn’t born yesterday, and if the couple needed help to hit the high notes these days, she wasn’t going to judge.

Ah well, she was philosophical, nothing lasts forever. But… ah, those tips!

“Excuse me, Bobbi?”

Turning around, she saw a middle aged couple pushing a withered, ancient old geezer in a wheelchair. Despite the hot weather, the old man was wearing a thick scarf pulled high.

“Table for three?”

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Online Opinions: live Twitter Q+A on Storify

It’s the boys third birthday, so a bit occupied tonight. So instead of any uncertain tale, tonight you get a reblogged, storified, twitter feed 🙂

Found this interesting as it talks about online presence for authors. Cheers!

digital writer in residence

Stella tweet 5Miss out on today’s Online Opinions live Twitter Q+A with Stella Young? Don’t worry, you can now catch up on Storify.

Many thanks to all those who joined the conversation.

Stella is still the Writers Victoria tweeter-in-residence until this Friday, so you can still catch her on @digitalwir until then.

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photo credit: David L. via photopin cc

I sit at the computer, writing my horror stories, opening tiny windows into the darkest areas of my brain. Brief glimpses into the worst I can conceive; incredible violence, enduring misery, unimaginable terrors, the production of limited popcorn evils for consumption by the masses.

I question myself; is this the worst, the most dire, I can imagine – am I so mundane, so unemotional?

I challenge myself to find a more passionate fear; I look to you, sitting watching TV, and I try to imagine your absence, both the couch and my life empty.

My stomach lurches and my heart stops, my rebellious mind rejects these thoughts and they slip, dark and oily, into the depths of my subconscious – some horrors are unthinkable.

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Bibliophagy, or book eating: a new page for Uncertain Tales

Copyright - K R Thoroughgood

Copyright – K R Thoroughgood

A new page! Whoo-Hoo!

In all honesty, this is much less exciting than you may expect. I have been keeping a list of all the books I’ve read since the start of the year (People do that right? This is a normal thing to do, yes?), and thought – hey, I should post this on the blog (and, given I have an evening of PS3 planned, I wont get a proper post out today :P).

If you are remotely interested in what I have read this year, please check out my new page: Bibliophagy. This year it is split into authors, because that’s how I kept the original word document – next year I think I will do a simple numbered list for ease of WordPressing. It will be updated with all new books I finish, as well linked to any book reviews that I might do.

I don’t expect comments per se, but if you have a question about a book, or want to suggest some reading, please feel free to drop me a line! I cant make promises, but I appreciate suggestions.

Thanks as always.


Pages of scribbles: Musing on progress (so far)

Copyright - K R Thoroughgood

Copyright – K R Thoroughgood

So, here we are (again).

My fifty-fifth blog entry. Not a bad number considering this blog is only two months old (give or take).

I thought I might do a quick look back – a progress check in to see where I’ve gone, compared to where I expected to be when I started this with my first post.

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Staring at the surface of the water: Shadow (second perspective)



PHOTO PROMPT Copyright- The Reclining Gentleman

He stared up at the churning surface of the water, watching the man’s distorted shadow.

Limbs flailed, stirring water to chop, stirring mud into murk. Beetles burrowed into him, eating flesh, and he screamed soundlessly in his watery prison. He lay, waiting for his freedom.

Waited with shadows of old glories. A deathless murderer, he had been feared. Bloody battles, warriors gutted… slaughters, now lost in centuries. Forgotten, like him.

A heavy Templar Cross, tarnished silver, pinning him to the muck for centuries, lurched heavily and started… to… give…

Maybe he would be freed.

One more slaughter…

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Staring at the surface of the water: Reflection (first perspective)


PHOTO PROMPT Copyright- The Reclining Gentleman

He stared down at the churning surface of the water, his reflection distorted.

The water was choppy; too murky to see the bottom. The churn stirred up beetles, which attracted fish, attracted the fisherman. He sat, waiting for the tell-tale pulse that would precede a strike.

Waited and reflected on old glories. A retired corporate raider, he had been feared. Boardroom battles, businesses gutted… wins, now lost in time. Forgotten, like him.

Reeling in slowly, the line snagged. He yanked back fiercely, feeling something heavy start… to… give…

Maybe he could get this free.

One more win… Continue reading