By: everylittlething Violetta Clarice Persephone Berringham-Jones was aware that she could never be in films. There was not a great deal to recommend her for such a career. Her mother had told her so. She looked into the mirror regularly to see if things might have changed. They didn’t change much. Violetta came from…
Category: Archive
Welcome to The Shiver Vaults: archived posts, from 2009 to 2018, still published on the ShiverWriggle website. The vast majority of archived posts are no longer published on the ShiverWriggle website. If you’re looking for something specific that you can’t find here, get in touch.
Wildflower
By: everylittlething The young man stood on the moss which covered the path to his new home. It felt supportive and warm. This whole experience felt warm and safe. After months of negotiating and double checking and signing and organising people, now he felt truly safe. Maybe the house was in dire need of…
Butterfly
By: everylittlething Jenny stared at the stunningly beautiful woman sitting opposite. She seemed to be in another world – of a different time. Verdum, verdum, verdum . . . the train was pulled rhythmically through the May morning. Steady cows and their wondering calves accepted this intrusion of their peace and stability. “They can’t…
A Recipe for Peace
By: Hugin The first fall of snowflakes in Winter, The soft warmth of the Summer sun, The first fruit to be picked in Autumn, The cobweb perfectly spun. The skipping firstborn lamb of the Spring, The first carol at Christmastide, The first note of a bird’s sweet love song, Winter’s first Snowdrop espied. The…
Kingfisher
By: everylittlething Polly watched as the little bird zipped through the trees in front of the car. The trees had been planted when her two children were tiny and it seemed special to her that this king of fishers was using them as camouflage to get from the pond to the river. How useful…
I Know Him Not
By: Hugin I had known him long ago. Too long ago to think of now – in truth it was a lifetime ago. I had laughed with him, drank with him, travelled with him… he had always been there. But paths split and fork to form different directions that must be followed and now……
The Day the Scarecrow Moved
By: Dr E.W. Gordon I was walking along, thinking of nothing in particular. It was an odd day but I couldn’t pinpoint why, things just seemed somehow out of balance. The sun was high yet the temperature was unseasonably chilly. I was flanked by a vicious pincer movement of arable boredom. Even the hedges…
Take A Walk
By: Dr E.W. Gordon It’s Saturday afternoon, which is unfortunate since this place is a favourite with dog walkers and I really want the place to myself. I get my biggest buzz from immersing myself in solitude. I love to be the only person on a desolate moor or be the thing that disturbs…
I Am Freedom
By: Dr E.W. Gordon There’s a place I go sometimes, I’ve been there in many guises. Some days I’m a runner flashing through, nothing but the rhythm of my breathing and the steady beat of my feet as they briefly touch down on the uneven surface. Other days I’m father and husband with my…
Short Fiction
By: Craig Forshaw Title by Keith Robinson Bleached-bones banging against the peeling cherry-red paintwork. Up above, a brilliant tomato grows in the jaundiced sky, getting larger all the time. PastPresentFuture are all one now. Everything becomes relative, and even gravity appears treacherous. The roaming, charcoal Sésquac snarl and dance at the American Firebird. Its…