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Bert felt jealous, cheated on, and blue. Then he discovered he could morph into a giant nightmarish slug... Would you like a FREE copy? On Wednesdays and Sundays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ novellas. You can check in regularly and read them bit for bit, or leave a message in my 'contact' page, and I'll send the entire digital story to you for free when published. Life in the Clouds #6: Take a Slug ® James Field. |
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Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 11
The clouds had begun to clear, and a bleached-white moon gave the wooded landscape an eerie glow. Alf had to admit, the forest had a freakish atmosphere that he'd never experienced before. A mouse darted from a hole in the ground and ran around his boots, followed by a horde of mice. A flush of adrenaline tingled through Alf's body, making him curse and kick out.
No need to get jumpy, he rebuked himself. This wasn't the first time he'd heard legends of trolls in these woods; but if anyone asked him, he’d tell them those legends were a load of old poppycock. On this night, if a troll were to stomp through the forest, he’d have to mimic one himself, which is what he’d planned. He clenched his fists and bunched his muscles; Morris was about to witness the dreaded troll. At long last he saw Morris leave his tent and grope his way into the forest. He carried the wicker basket in his left hand and a torch with a piercing beam in his right. A fox howled somewhere close and Morris stopped dead. He shone his torch in all directions and Alf could see that his nostrils were open wide, as if to catch a whiff of danger. Ha! He doesn't feel so sure of himself now, thought Alf, and rubbed his hands with glee. 
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Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 10
As the evening grew dark over the Cloud Estate’s deathly silent forest, a damp mist curled up from the lake and Morris noticed his knees tremble. A skin of moist covered his tent, but he knew the damp and cold weren’t the only cause of his shivering.
A fox cried out somewhere in the black woodland and bats flew across the rising moon. Morris dug a torch from his rucksack, a modern affair with a beam that sliced through the gloom. It bolstered his courage, but not by much. The time had come to venture into the trees in search of magical toadstools, and his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. His wife, Sibyl, was desperate to obtain a few for her potions, and they were rare. According to her, they only grew during a full moon on the ninth day of September. Even so, she had warned him not to venture into the forest on this night, because, according to folklore, a wicked lady troll would also be after them. Morris didn’t believe in trolls and all such nonsense. After all, despite his small stature, he was a man among men. Right now though, he wished he’d brought a stiff dram with him: just suppose there were such beings as trolls. 
Image by FelixMittermeier from Pixabay
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 09
Apart from the glen by the lake, and the widespread lawns in front of the Cloud Mansion, and Morris's gardens, forest covered most of the Cloud Estate. A busy London road bordered one side of the property, The Stables bordered another, and a narrow belt of public parks surrounded the remaining two sides. Inside its impenetrable boundaries, the estate enjoyed a life of its own. Untouched and ancient, generation after generation had handed it down from the time of King Richard the Lion-Hearted.
Alf stopped behind a large boulder, sent a mental instruction to Crusher to form its robot body into that of a chair, and sat in its lap. Having made himself comfortable, Alf spied on Morris with his third eye. As hoped, the gardener was still in his tent, eating supper, unaware of the terror that was about to befall him. Alf blew on his hands and rubbed them together; the show could begin. 
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 08
Alf, who knew Morris had camped by the lake and would spend the night searching for toadstools, decided to have a little fun with him. He'd already started his night patrol, made a circuit of The Cloud Mansion, and now jogged around the estate's boundaries, checking the fences and high stone walls. Crusher trotted by his side and Alf kept nudging its shoulder, trying to make the little robot lose balance and topple. "You make for boring company," chortled Alf, "but we'll soon be having us a belly laugh."
Reaching the end of his round, and satisfied all was well, Alf darted off toward the glen by the lake. The evening was dark, and dense trees stole most of the remaining light, but he didn't need a torch. Young Master Trevor had adapted a titanium plate in his brow that, among other marvels, improved his third eye. Now, even if he put a bucket over his head, wore a blindfold, and scrunched his eyes shut, with the aide of his third eye he could still see where he was going. Crusher followed in his heels. Although nimble, the little robot wasn’t stealthy and its hydraulics made a faint whine. Before putting his plan of terror into action, Alf would have to leave Crusher hidden. 
Image by Christian Dorn from Pixabay
In the last post: Morris makes camp by the lake, and he says, "Pooh to the idea of trolls..."14/1/2020 Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out. Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 07After assembling the tent's framework of bamboo poles, Morris stretched the heavy outer canvas over the top, spread a tarpaulin across the ground to make a dry floor, and hung the cotton inner liner. His faithful tent stunk of mould, but held together at the seams. Once up, he had room to stand inside and a roomy fore tent for his camping table, chair and picnic bag. There was no point searching for Sibyl's toadstools before midnight, so he made a pot of tea and spread the supper she’d made for him across the table. There was homemade bread, mutton, mustard and a thick slab of fruitcake. The clouds that had threatened earlier began to melt away and the full moon would be rising soon. Morris leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and breathed a deep, satisfied sigh. "Cheers!" he said, holding his cup to the entrancing evening. All he needed now was the company of a dainty lady troll! The real world:Up here in Norway’s Arctic North, we still have one week to wait before the sun peeks over the horizon. In the meantime, just see the fantastic display of colours we’re granted. The photo doesn't do justice! 
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 06
Morris marched along a narrow dirt-track path, mighty trees pressing on both sides. All the idiotic talk about trolls had annoyed him at first, but now he rambled with a spring in his step and whistled a jolly tune.
Hadn't his wife, Sibyl, said the troll was a lady? Yes, Husminx. His imagination pictured a slightly clad temptress with long flowing hair and figure-of-eight figure. Wouldn't that be a fitting encounter for a fine Don Juan like me? Just as the sun grew too weak to see by, the path opened into a small glen, exposing the remaining daylight. A small lake boarded one side of the glen, tangled trees crowded around the other sides. In the fading light, Morris hurried to assemble his tent. He looked up at the sky. Dark clouds gathered and it looked like rain. Sibyl had said the magical toadstools she wanted only grew on Trollop Knoll in full moonlight. Which meant, because of the clouds, that he wouldn't be picking any tonight. Whatever the weather, he didn't mind. Slumbering by the lake and listening to fish jump, rain patter, and trees whisper in the breeze would soothe his soul like balsam. Pooh to the idea of trolls! 
Image by Wolfgang Eckert from Pixabay
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James Field
Talvik, Norway You can also Find me on 
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 The Thursday Murder Club by Richard OsmanMy rating: 2 of 5 stars There’s a lot to like and a lot to dislike in this story. I like that it’s cosy, funny, and heart-warming. The plot, however, is a tragedy. There are two murders, and every character in the book, of which there are many, has a motif. With so many twists, turns, and red herrings throughout the narrative, it lost me in a virtual maze. But the author commits the gravest crime: he introduces a new, guilty character right at the end of the story. Tut, tut, naughty. View all my reviews Archives
August 2022
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