Sunday shorts: The wedding toast
Sunday shorts: The acceptance
Sunday minis: The sound of music
Sunday minis: Life’s a big, fat, female dog
Sunday minis: Party for two
Sunday minis: Cinnamon scorn
Sunday shorts: The red brick house
Sunday shorts: The m a r t h o n
Sunday shorts: The interview
Sunday minis: Clear blue thoughts

Sunday minis: The sound of music

I don’t want to be your brother! The thought raked unrepentantly through his mind as he posed by one of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the busy business district of the town, and stared straight ahead, hands shoved deep in his pockets, unaware of twilight steadily browning the sky, the standstill traffic on the bridge at the centre of his view. . .

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Sunday shorts: The red brick house

The grassy distance to the door must have taken 10 to 15 steps. Daniel’s reluctant limbs stretched it out by the characteristic onomatopoeic sound of hip hop flowing from the house, reminiscent of a roaringly wild party with drinks enough to drown a shoal of sharks, ear -splitting music to wake the dead and endless supply of half-clothed girls; all of which blurred out after he got paralytically drunk and managed to stumble upstairs to an unoccupied room, intending to sleep off his drunken stupor and cause no harm or shame to his name or his parents’.

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