Audrey Austin

Audrey Austin
Proud to be a small town indie author

Thursday, November 3, 2016

BY THE BOOK; flash fiction story: Welcome Mary Lou Pearce; featured author for November

Featured Author for November:  Mary Lou Pearce


BY THE BOOK

“Sorry it took so long to get here, I got trapped in a freakin’ traffic circle! It took me twenty rounds to get out,” Sgt. Killworthy Innes said to the female officer on scene.
“That’s okay, Killy. A corpse keeps for a while. I did some preliminary already,” his partner Maple Caisse told him.
Innes winced. It was bad enough being christened Killworthy and being a cop, but that nickname!
“The deceased is up the stairs and to the left in the library/office. Let me know what you think of the scene, because it gives me the creeps,” Caisse told him, shivering.
“Will do,” he said as he left the front hall and climbed to next floor.
It wasn’t hard to find the crime scene as there was a wide trail of blood that showed evidence of dragging leading from the top of the stairs to an open door. Watching where he put his feet, Innes gave the door a push with one gloved hand. His eyes fell on the body.
Bending down, Innes did a slow visual. His inspection stopped short when he saw that the right hand of the body was missing.
“I wonder where that ended up. As a souvenir for the killer probably,” he muttered as he scribbled notes.
Looking past the right side of the body, the sergeant’s eyes found another anomaly. A large tome with yellowed pages lay open on the rug. Walking carefully around the body, Innes went up to the book and crouched down.
As he watched, a bloody right hand came out of the page and wrote his name with one finger in blood. Then the hand grabbed him by the throat and began to squeeze.
When Caisse came up the stairs calling his name, Killy couldn’t answer.


A native North Bayite, I trained as a Library Technician and spent quite a few years in libraries of all sorts. A few years out of college, I fell in love  with and married a military fighter, so I've been a few places and seen a few sights that will probably make their way into my memoirs at some point. 
As one of a family of nine, I am a storyteller from way back. I loved telling my nieces stories based on prompts they came up with when they were young.  Some of those really early works are still in my author stash and may have to be dusted off, revised and put out in the wide world to fly. 


These days, I am finally writing daily and finishing up some of those pesky UFOs. To my surprise, I have written a novella which has yet to be published.  I firmly believe that: I write not because I choose to, but because I have to.


Mary Lou Pearce


Thursday, October 13, 2016

Bing Bong Evening! a short story by Shreya Agarwal; featured author for October

Welcome featured author for October:Shreya Agarwal.

Bing Bong evening!

Before long the salmon skies wash away and they dwindle to a surge of ebony yonder but not before I see the idiosyncrasy of this sprawling townpool. I wish not before then for the city briskly metamorphoses as it ashens,spinning much brouhaha in it's perishing pearl.

While smoke sullenly rolls in slow folds from clustered chimneys of iron foundries to before it settles on tarmac streets, a peppy connoisseur like me is all up with her bunny lugs, foraging close to the miscellany of sounds heaving around me.

From snarling honks to growling pandemonium of congested traffic and from revving engines to grinding wheels against asphalt,the once sushed boulevard is now outpoured with reviving vigour.
From untimely temple bell chimes to melodious hymns by churchfolks,merged with muezzin echo from mosque loudspeakers,tenders a virtuous respite.

As the city turns a tad darker now, street hawkers send strident calls,anticipating a clinky clank of pennies in their baggy pockets soon.While the clattering of serving spoons to bubbly gossips and chattering crowds adds on to the vivacity.

Down in the courtyard, kids shriek,yap and giggle.The air stifles with chirping crickets and rattling cicadas.In the the corner,the fire hisses as burning leaves crack in shower of sparks.
A wave of faint music drifts from the rooftop lounge and I put a match to kindling, the flames flicker in ceasing silence only to be intruded by the sharp trill of my ringing phone.Damn!

-Shreya Agarwal