Kept myself busy again this week. I've been writing poems which I do plan to submit at some point in the next few weeks, as well as a children's story which I have submitted for a competition to Smories. I've also printed out a short story I wrote two weeks ago, which I will submit to People's Friend, in the first instance.
On the subject of the poems I need to obtain some magazines to be certain of where to send them. I've read back copies of some but plan to go out today for the new copies. One I've already sent off for over the internet, as well an anthology of "cross-over" short fiction which I will check out with the possibility of submitting something there.
On an unrelated theme, today is the first day of the first test between England and Bangladesh. Since the start time of 3.30am was a little early I decided to set my alarm in time for the post-lunch session. But weirdly I woke up of my own volition five minutes before it was due to go off. I've obviously missed Test Match Special more than I thought.
Back to writing now, and here's a new flash story inspired by the fact that today is the 9th anniversary of the death of Robert Ludlum, creator of the Bourne books.
'It feels weird every time I come here now. Ever since they filmed that film here, you know...'
Tom turned to Steve.
'No I don't know actually...'
'You know. That film.'
Steve's face was creased in thought. Tom turned away and began scanning the electronic departures board again.
'Next train to Guildford is in ten minutes. Come on, let's board.' He said.
'What is that film? You know...Wait..there, there...'
Tom stared at Steve in astonishment as he began pointing at a wine shop.
'He ran in there..the main character ran in there.'
'No! In the...Are you mocking me?'
'Would I do that?'
'He ran in there and into that cupboard', Steve was pointing again.
'No. It wasn't a cupboard in the film; there was a staircase behind it.'
'You know sometimes mate', Tom shook his head. 'You really need to get a life.'