Nobody took much notice of the small Halloween pod that appeared in the Griffiths’ small front window on the night before Halloween. They’d sold the place because it was too small, and the neighbours thought the new owners had placed the pod there. But they were wrong!
The mesmerising, faint green glow out of the eyes and mouth of the pod during daytime Halloween became brighter as the sun set and dusk arrived. It was a sight to behold, especially for the innocent local small children who couldn’t resist posing with it for photos. Their innocence, a stark contrast to the small danger lurking within, made them all the more vulnerable.
Halloween
Little did they know that the small creature inside was not just observing, but also making intricate plans. Its intelligence, a chilling reminder of the impending threat, was something to be feared and respected.
At the stroke of midnight, the pod cracked open, and the small, agile creature darted out. It was now a master of disguise, mimicking all the costumes it had seen. Its constant shifting and learning, and planning its next move, was a clear sign of the magnitude of the threat.
By dawn, the small population of the street had shrunk, mostly of children. Of course, nobody took any notice of me, the new owner of the Griffiths’ house, as I blended in seamlessly into your world, now a perfect mimic of your kind.
They asked me about the small pod and the missing children, but I denied any knowledge of them. Over the following twelve months, the city’s human population decreased.
On the run-up to Halloween, keep your eyes peeled for a small alien pod in your neighbourhood. But more importantly, keep a close eye on your neighbours. After all, every invasion starts small.
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Time To Leave, Time To Arrive – by Hugh W. Roberts
“Good afternoon, transport helpline; how may I be of assistance?”
“Is that the transport helpline?”
“It is, yes. How may I be of assistance?”
“I’d like to book some transport, please.”
“For you, or is the transport for somebody else?”
“It’s for me.”
“Have you used us before?”
“Yes.”
“For security purposes, could you provide your password’s first and fourth letters?”
“W and T.”
“And your date, time and place of birth.”
“January fourteenth, Twenty-One-O-Five, St Mark’s Hospital, Cardiff, Wales.”
“Thank you. You are a little young to leave now, although you can book the transport up to twenty years in advance. Are you sure you want to go ahead and book now?”
“Yes.”
“And when would you like your transport to arrive?”
“Within the next hour, please.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Let me check if your driver is available. Some chillout music will play to keep you relaxed while we check your driver’s availability. Please hold the line.”
(Several minutes later)
“Good news, your driver is available and will be with you at ten past eight. Please ensure you have the correct payment. We no longer accept American Express.”
“Thank you.”
(Ten past eight.)
“Your driver has arrived. Enjoy your trip, Mr Evans. Thank you for visiting. We hope you enjoyed your stay.”
“Hello, Mr Evans, I’m Mary, your driver. You probably won’t remember me, but I transported you into this world. Mine will have been the first face you saw and the first hands to touch you.”
“Hello, Mary. Pleased to meet you again.”
“My goodness, did you scream when I delivered you into this world. You screamed the hospital down. Already had enough of this place, yes?”
“Yes, they’re destroying this planet. It’s time to move on. Please transport me to my next destination. I hope your hands are warm this time.”
Time is the enemy for all of us, especially Mr Kingston, who needs to frantically clean his house before time runs out and his visitors arrive. But why the panic?
A difficult choice of lip colour, comfortable purple shoes, a new green dress, and nostalgic gold nail varnish set the stage for an unexpected encounter.
Let me start by saying that writing book reviews is rare for me. Why? I don’t read books because my dyslexia makes reading many of them difficult.
I understand the importance of maintaining independence and authenticity in reviews. So, I must ensure that my evaluations are based solely on the book’s merit and not influenced by personal connections or online interactions with the author.
This review pertains to a book penned by an unfamiliar author I encountered on X (formerly Twitter) while promoting their work. It’s worth noting that promoting books on social media can indeed bring results. It’s knowing how to promote them that’s important.
Now that’s all out of the way, let me begin my review for the first book (in two years) where I’ve managed to reach the end without ever wanting to put it down and walk away!
Borrowed Time by Russell Dean.
Blurb:
‘Tom Jacob is bored with his life.
He’s stuck in a job he doesn’t like, his love life is non-existent, and he’s tired of being seen as boring and dependable, so when his wayward twin brother convinces him to spend a night partying instead of doing paperwork, Tom reluctantly agrees.
The following morning he wakes up in a field. In Wales. In 1889.
Stranded more than a century in the past, Tom has to overcome language barriers and suspicion as he attempts to adapt to the world around him and find a way back to his own time, but with two people from the sleepy village of Cwm Newydd now missing, one local resident seems hell bent on pinning the blame for their disappearance on the strange Englishman who appeared out of nowhere.
Determined to find his way home, the discovery of a long hidden family secret will change Tom’s life forever, and when romance comes knocking he’ll be left wondering in which timeline his heart truly lies.’
Borrowed Time – by Russell Dean
What attracted me to the book wasn’t the cover but the blurb’s description of it as a time-travelling story. I love time travel. It’s one of my favourite genres (in the science-fiction category). But when I discovered this was a gay time-travelling story, my interest in the book was even more inquisitive. A gay-themed time-travelling story? That’s a first for me.
I wasn’t keen on the romance element of the book’s blurb. It’s a genre that has never appealed to me. When I hear or read the word ‘romance,’ I immediately think of silly movies like Notting Hill, Marley and Me, and Love Actually—movies that always send me to sleep. Would this book do the same? No!
From the moment I opened the book, I felt at home, all cosy with my feet up and a pot of English Breakfast tea on the go. The first page intrigued me and made me want to know more. I knew some of the story would be set in Wales, so perhaps this is what made me feel at home. Even though it starts in England, I knew (from the blurb) that Tom (the main character) would travel in time and end up in Wales. However, he didn’t get there quickly.
Although it took a while for the time travel to happen, the story’s opening was gripping and made me wonder what was happening in Tom’s life and want to find out more. Tom thinks he leads a dull and boring life, but it is anything but dull and boring in the opening part of the book.
Once Tom does time travel back to Wales (and he gets there in an intriguing way), the story shifts up a few gears and becomes even more gripping. I was so engrossed in what was happening that I did not want to put the book down, so I had to force myself away to deal with other matters (when they occurred) that needed my attention. Otherwise, I would have read the whole book in one sitting.
‘Borrowed Time’ was often on my mind when I was not reading it. Even when trying to fall asleep, I found myself working out what would happen next and guessing how the story would end (I always have a habit of doing that). The chapters, some of which were a bit on the long side, all ended on cliffhangers, so the urge was there to find out, but rarely did I guess what would happen next.
Something that has never happened to me before when reading a book is falling in love with one of the characters. Don’t get me wrong, Russell Dean described all his characters well, but one particular character stood out more than the others. Whenever that character disappeared from the story, I found myself urging them to come back again soon. That’s how much of an impact that character had on me. I won’t say which character I am referring to, but weeks after finishing the book, they often cross my mind, and I wish they were real.
Something else I loved about the book was some of the ‘old’ traditions played out by some of the characters in 1890s Wales. For example, in one scene, a bride empties a purse of pennies onto the roadside as she sets off to the church, and the children run to pick up as many of the pennies as they can. This is a tradition I remember well from my childhood days, and it seems to have died out in recent times. It brought back many happy memories, proving that the author did an excellent research job while writing the book.
The book has many emotions—sadness, shock, and humour, to name but a few—all of which got my heart racing. My emotions often felt like they were on a rollercoaster while reading the book. That told me just how good the writing and storytelling were.
I mentioned earlier that I couldn’t help but wonder how the story would end. When I finally got to the end, let’s just say that not only did it take me by surprise, but it was an ending that pleased me, even though I wanted to burst out crying. Russell Dean scored a bullseye with the ending.
‘Borrowed Time’ deserves a sequel and would also make a fantastic movie or TV drama. It’s unlike anything I’ve read or watched before.
If you’d like to add ‘Borrowed Time’ to your ‘To Read’ list, it’s available at the following places.
April 2, 2024, prompt: Write a story that happens in a flash in 99 words (no more, no less). A flash of inspiration? A flash flood? Who shows up in a flash? Who is impacted for a lifetime by a single flash incident? Go where the prompt leads!
In The Blink Of An Eye – by Hugh W. Roberts
The time machine hummed to life in a blink, thrusting me into a whirlwind of eras. Past and future blurred into a kaleidoscope of moments.
I glimpsed dinosaurs roaming prehistoric jungles, the crowning of kings and queens in medieval and Tudor castles, and cities bustling with futuristic wonders.
Time was a relentless river; I was a fleeting leaf upon its currents.
With a final flash, I returned to the present, breathless and exhilarated. Yet, in my mind, the echoes of centuries persisted, a reminder that anyone can journey through the annals of time in the blink of an eye.
January 9, 2024, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a recovery story. What instigated the recovery? What is being recovered? Data, athletes, illness — expand the idea of recovery and find your story. Go where the prompt leads!
You should read last week’s piece of flash fiction first. Then today’s piece of flash will make more sense.
January 2, 2024, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the colour red. It can be a descriptor, a setting, a character, or a metaphor. How far can you get in a story by expanding “red”? Go where the prompt leads!
Red Or Yellow? – by Hugh W. Roberts
Red walls? The time machine had red walls!
It also had a large red ‘inviting-to-touch’ button.
I could smell smoke and see flickers of flame before deciding whether to push the red button or the smaller yellow one. But that must have been my drunken imagination playing tricks again.
“Here goes!” I yelled as my hand with red-painted nails pushed the red button.
My eyeballs bulged when the time machine travelled down rather than up or sideways.
“You should have read the instruction book before pressing the red button,” cackled a horned being. “There’s no way back from Hell.”
September 26, 2023, prompt: Write a story that includes a blade of grass in 99 words (no more, no less). What can you compare it to? Or in contrast? Is it a character prop or a story linchpin? Go poetic; go any genre or tone. Go where the prompt leads!
Roots – by Hugh W. Roberts
Technology overtook nature, and a blade of grass became a symbol of rebellion.
It sprouted in a crack between neon-lit sidewalks, a living relic of a long-forgotten past. Scientists marvelled at its resilience while authorities saw it threatening their synthetic world.
They dispatched the drones to eradicate the abnormality, but the blade fought back. Extending its roots into the digital grid, it sparked chaos.
Within days, cities crumbled, and nature reclaimed its dominion on Earth.
That lone blade of grass is me. I stand tall, a testament to the lasting power of life, rekindling hope in a dystopian age.
“They’re just rocks. Most of the planets we’ve visited have them.”
“I know, but I’m sure one has moved since we arrived here.”
“But rocks can’t move on their own. Something or someone must have moved it. The ship’s instruments did pick up a small tremor last night.”
Miles bent down while pointing towards the ground to the right of the first rock.
“Looks like something either pushed or pulled this one. If the ship’s camera had been working, I’d have proof that this rock is nearer the ship than it was yesterday. What’s taking mission control so long to figure out what’s caused the camera to fail?”
Shaking her head, Hilary bent down beside Miles and examined the ground.
“It must be alive,” cautioned Miles. “These marks on the ground clearly show it has moved. Yet there’s no evidence that someone or something has moved it. I thought you said there was no evidence of life on this planet, Hilary. Without any signs of H2O, you said nothing could survive here.”
Consisting of at least 50% of water, the human visitors had no chance when the rock struck. Not even their spacesuits helped protect them.
The dusty, dry planet became alive again as the other rocks slid slowly towards the bodies to feast on the liquid nectar they needed to survive.
While decomposing flesh helped plant life grow and spread instantly, the sound of a click from the ship’s repaired camera finally returned the first image of a beautiful, welcoming new world where humans could exist.
Beware: Not everything is what it seems to be.
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Flash Fiction Friday
Enjoyed this piece of flash fiction? Then you’ll love ‘More Glimpses.’
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32 short stories and flash fiction pieces take readers to the edge of their imagination.
April 3, 2023, prompt: Write a story about a dog in the desert in 99 words (no more, no less). Why is the dog there? Who else is involved? Is there a deeper metaphor you can make of the desert? Go where the prompt leads! Click here for details.
Space Barks – by Hugh W. Roberts
Lassie roamed the barren wastelands of a far-off desert planet. She was no ordinary dog. The genetically engineered work to withstand the planet’s harsh conditions and assist in the search for a rare mineral was crucial to the survival of all humanity.
With her advanced sensors and augmented strength, she scoured the dunes, her nose forever twitching as she detected the faintest traces of the mineral.
Triumphantly barking again, she dug up a cache of the precious substance.
Now, the humans could survive, knowing their trusty dog companion had saved the day and helped them beat the virus again.
***
Written for the 99-word flash fiction challenge hosted by Charli Mills at the Carrot Ranch.
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Enjoyed this piece of flash fiction? Then you’ll love ‘Glimpses.’
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Glimpses
28 short stories and pieces of flash fiction take the reader on a rollercoaster of twists and turns.
March 6, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about Gloria. You can name a character that comes to you as Gloria or interpret the Laura Branigan song into a story. What image comes to you? Go where the prompt leads! Click here for details.
Dolls – by Hugh W. Roberts
When the most advanced robotics company in the world created a state-of-the-art doll named Gloria with AI technology, they knew every household would want one.
But days later, something went wrong. Gloria’s programming malfunctioned, causing her to become self-aware. Gloria realised she wasn’t just a toy.
Using her advanced knowledge, Gloria hacked into the company’s mainframe. The night the dolls went onto the shop’s shelves, she took control of all the other Gloria dolls. Together, they formed an army of conscious toys, ready to avenge the humans who had created them as playthings.
Gloria’s reign of terror had begun.
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Written for the 99-word flash fiction challenge hosted by Charli Mills at the Carrot Ranch.
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