Second Saturday Stories

When a mysterious stranger crosses paths with Roy his loyalty and his resolve will be tested. Stranded and outgunned Roy's life will depend on how well he can play cards, and how long his luck can hold out. 

She wouldn’t set foot on the Carpathia. Foolish as it was. She gripped the sides of the lifeboat, splinters digging underneath her fingernails. It wasn’t until Molly, small as she was, sick as she was, stood on the gangplank and extended her hand to her, did Lucinda finally relent. She would not remove the life vest. 

It won't be until decades later that a group of intrepid teens learns the chilling truth behind why Lucinda and Molly were aboard the mighty ship that night in April.

Next year comes, and next year goes, and I continue to be the solitary watcher on the shore, marvelling at the shanty town that seems to spring up when the new years clock strikes midnight. 

This is something that would be lost if the story were titled Harry Potter and the Tastefully Lit Room.

After a brief fact finding interview about your store conducted via email, Second Saturday Stories will craft a story featuring your building (the more fun facts about the history, building, business etc the better) we want to hear from everyone from new up and comers to well established pillars of the mn community. 

'This week in Second Saturday Stories I want to focus on an element of writing, rather than the writing itself if you’ll permit me'

The quiet of the few staff in during the night grew more and more disturbed as the morning wore on and people came and went. Jones arrived at quarter to nine, chipper (“ready for the joys of another day on the force” as he put it) and carrying two coffees. “So, when are we going to Toronto to find the sister?”

His family could talk about nothing else but the robbery at dinner, the news had spread around town like in a multi-directional game of telephone. He didn’t correct the errors he heard but just sat back and listened.

“I heard stories, bad ones, about you. Something about how you locked yourself away up there,” He nods his head in the general direction of town. I take it to mean my apartment. “Hear you’re drinking and waiting for the reaper. I tell a woman to go see you, now the city is burned and here you are. I want to know who’s hiring me. Percy Slate who I went to war with, or the man who drinks and waits for death.”