In addition to writings for children are these short stories for adults.
Varying from a few thousand to a few hundred words per story, these collections are brief encounters with people teetering on the brink of their everyday lives.
Click on the covers to read more…
Excerpt from The Goat Peppered Hills of Home:
‘The nurses were changing the sheets, the patients still lying beneath them. Two auxiliaries to a bed, they chatted over the recumbent occupants, detailing their dates, their shoes purchases and their staff lunches. As they shrilled like starlings, Sophie thought how long she had known this previously random collection of women.
She noticed that in the time that she had observed them, their uniforms had remained the same but their personal appearances had gradually changed. Their hair had become more vibrantly dyed, their bodies more densely tattooed and their tongues more abundantly pierced, as the seasons had passed. It was as if each woman was striving to make herself part of one huge human collage of tinted heads, inked skin and facial adornment. They were hospital art, hung in otherwise soulless corridors.
A collection of short stories for adults.
Excerpt from Senile:
Valerie has advised me to consume foods only in liquid form. This follows our girls’ lunch, to which I wear my green crop top and new boots: something dull jammed on my lumpy in between. ‘You look hippy.’ Valerie exclaims. This is rather flattering at our age. ‘Should I have added some beads perhaps?’
‘No, I mean you look wide on the hips: sausagey. Jo Jo, in your case, you should never assume hippy to be a compliment.’
It is because of this that I am now weighed down like a table at harvest festival. While attempting to cross the main road the shopping bags split, spewing cabbages, carrots and celeriac for all to see. A man stops to give me a hand. As I thank him he turns away, ready to jettison me in the vegetable strewn road. But he has hesitated that fraction too long to make a clean break. ‘Refill what bags you can.’ He snaps. ‘I will lift them on to your shoulders but don’t expect me to carry them for you.’
A second collection of short stories for adults.
Excerpt taken from Second Wife:
Dribbling in a chair, the old man cupped a glass slackly in one arthritic hand.
‘Soon, I’ll control his mansion, his fortune and his limousines,’ thought Ligita.
‘Without any identifiable father of her own, my child will become his child. As he lies dying, she and I will speed down his chestnut-lined drive, returning to live near my parents in Elektrėnai. He will come more slowly, crawling to us by private ambulance. When he does finally arrive, my father will show him our prestigious generating station and my mother will insist on bathing him in the artificial lagoon, created to cool the power plant. It is many degrees warmer than more natural waters.
‘As he weakens still further, I will invest our money in opportunities made possible by Lithuanian cosmetic tourism and Baltic States laser eye surgery.’
‘Which of his feet is bad, Mama?’ Asked the little girl seated beside the old man sleeping in his chair.
‘Call him Papa Lina, and both of the old fool’s feet are bad.’
The final collection of short stories for adults.