A tale of blood, shadows, and spite by Paul Andrew Sneddon Blood on the PavementThese empty streets. The crowd is gone now. Taste of blood in my mouth. Doors closed. Curtains drawn.The police car parked down the road.Siren flashing.Rain pouring down.The detective.Empty Eyes.My father’s man.His blade.Will do what he is told.Always has. Always will.Taste ofContinue reading “The Ghost”
Tag Archives: short story
Some Kind of Salvation
I don’t drink.I think about drinking some times.I think about disappearing into the city,Into the night.Into a rock and roll song.The music.The crowd.The passion.Sparks.I’ve been lost.I’ve been a fool.But the music,Is me.AndI am the music.Like a map,Back to myself.A pawn shop guitar man,But a guitar man none the less.Turn up the guitar.Make it loud.ConnectionsLit up.Me.You.Everybody.Together.SometimesContinue reading “Some Kind of Salvation”
Bath Tub Blues
Maybe I’ll run on like a rolling stone,Still going into my 80s.When my Pappa was getting his bus pass.Maybe I’ll be more like,A fat guy in the bathtub.Thinking he is having the last laugh.Either way,I’m going to take this moment.Take this day.And live it.© Paul Andrew Sneddon
Bus Stop Boogie
Bus stop in the gentle rain,Waiting,Waiting.Old couple arguing about something, nipping at each other.Dressed like they are on a hill-walking expedition in monsoon season for the trip down to the bingo.Sharing a packet of Wotsits.The wet grass.Cars rolling by in the street,Turn up the volume,Ian Dury and the BlockheadsBurst through my headphones.And I’m traveling,Borneo,Bordeaux,Fantastique.Feet tapping,Moving,NearContinue reading “Bus Stop Boogie”
Dominoes
Sitting on the bench, a cool Wednesday morning. Tony could hear the traffic from there. Up and down Dundonald Road, all day long, the world going about its business.Here he was, just like every other day.The smell of flowers and cut grass drifted on the air.Sandwiches wrapped in cling film beside him, next to hisContinue reading “Dominoes”
Paul Andrew Sneddon 