Clare's stories have been published in: Contrary, Nerve, Vestal Review, Dark Tales, Espresso Fiction, T-Zero, Electric Spec and the horror anthology Read by Dawn from Bloody Books.
Decorated
Carrie wasn't expecting this.
She had never seen a dead body -- except the dog that was knocked down outside school and lay with its eyes open looking at her with an expression of surprise.
It lay there not moving at all: not its tail, not even its ears -- and she knew even then that a dog's ears never rested...
Read more at Burst 2008
Parallel Conservatory
I never had much time for all their theories
about parallel universes and such like, until I encountered the phenomenon
on a much smaller scale. It was the day I found myself in a parallel
conservatory.
It was very much like our conservatory, identical in almost every way, except that the plants looked healthier and, in this conservatory, my husband had an altogether different wife...
Read more at Contrary 2008
“Are you taking the piss?” he says.
And the closer I look at him, the more I see that he is not quite as I remember. He is shorter, his chin is more pronounced and he isn’t smiling at all.
He has planted himself squarely, feet apart, as though bracing himself for action or flight. He is looking at me the way people look at traffic accidents and now I am afraid to ask if he has any tattoos...
Read more at On the Premises 2009
Thought’s
are more like a
bus – more random than rails. Buses stop and start unexpectedly, they detour,
bully, mingle with other traffic. Once I was on a bus and the driver went
completely the wrong way; parked up somewhere. I think he was crying. You
don’t get that on a train...
Winner
writing competition 2005
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Sick Days |
“Ah,
Alyssa, isn’t it? You haven’t visited us before, have you? You must be
in excellent health!” He laughed.
“Er,
yes.” I looked away, distracted by so many unfamiliar objects. Antique
public health posters, some of which were truly disturbing, lined the
walls. 'Don’t die of ignorance.' What was that about?
“Don’t
be alarmed at this set-up. Many of my clients like the retro look.” He
settled himself beside me, pulling a hinged table closer. A cabinet swung
open, revealing rows of vials. “Ever had anything before?”
Read more in Electric Spec
A Familiar Face
Even in my warm coat I always stood a little apart from my
ghost, aware of the extra chill in the air around it. The train was
delayed, then cancelled. We were forced to chat.
“Brrrr,”
I said, making conversation.
“I
can’t feel a thing,” said the ghost. “That’s one of the good
things about being dead.”
Winner of Dark Tales competition 2003
She
climbed into the shower and stood under the gushing head of it without
moving, mesmerized by the scarlet spinning down the plughole. She closed
her eyes.
‘I’m not a witch.’ She whispered. ‘I’m not witch.’
The man had said she must be – she was dressed like one. His voice was soft, but his eyes bored into her as though he was actually touching her, and she’d wanted to run away, wanted so much, but she couldn’t move. He smelt overpowering, or was it his voice? Old and sweet...
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Published in Bloody Books anthology: |
Read more in Vestal Review 2005. Nominated for the Pushcart Prize
...If
it had any kind of motor ability it would even now be fighting the cold
sleep, rousing itself in a glove of ice and scratch, scratch, scratching
on the walls to find a way out.
Most
of all, it misses the ring. Nothing special. It was never going to rule
them all, never going to find them. But the finger had grown accustomed to
the ring and felt it’s absence – the weight of it has left a pasty
impression at its base, an indentation.