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Colin Devonshire

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

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133 Stories

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Door Ajar

Door AjarWhen Anousone was very young, his grandmother, Ya, allowed him a night light. It was a small ceramic elephant, its bulbous body painted with faded gold and fired in a kiln somewhere near Udon Thani. At night, it cast a soft amber glow across his bedding, turning his toy trucks into sleeping monsters and his pile of clothes into a crouching animal. He slept soundly then, with the confidence of a child who believed that light was a wall and darkness merely what lay on the other side.Ya took the elephant away on his seventh birthday. “...

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The Survivor

The SurvivorThe Andaman Sea doesn’t give up its dead. Not willingly. It tucks them into coral gardens, wraps them in anemone fronds, lets them bloat and drift through underwater canyons until their bones are picked clean by parrotfish. That’s what the dive master told me once, over cheap whisky on a Railay Beach deck. I didn’t believe him then.I believe him now.His name was Chalky. Chalky Fletcher. We’d come from Bristol together, fresh out of university, pockets full of debt and the kind of arrogance that makes you think Southeast Asia owes...

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The Weight of Jasmine

The Weight of JasmineThe monsoon had reduced everything to a single, relentless note. Rain hammered the corrugated iron roof of the long-tail boat’s awning, a deafening percussion that made speech impossible. Kraisorn didn’t mind. He sat on the damp wooden bench, feeling the familiar vibration of the engine through his spine, and watched the brown Chao Phraya River slide past. The world beyond the awning was a watercolour of greys and greens—mangrove roots clawing at the swollen banks, the distant spires of a temple dissolving into the downp...

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The Bones Under the Buffalo Grass

The heat came off the paddy in shimmering waves, turning the distant line of eucalyptus trees into a watercolour smudge. Finn Bishop knelt in the mud, his knees screaming inside his worn-out jeans, and pulled another clump of grass from the irrigation ditch. It was thankless work, the kind of work backpackers did when their money ran out, and their pride hadn't quite caught up.Somchai, the farm owner, had told him to clear the weeds from the northern channel before noon. "Mai pen rai," (never mind) Finn had said, as he understood. He didn't ...

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The Table of Unspoken Things

The Table of Unspoken ThingsThe restaurant was called Ruen Sila—House of Stone—and it perched on the thirty-fifth floor of a building that had forgotten its own name. The elevator required a key card that the maître d' handed over like a loaded pistol. The windows faced west, toward the Chao Phraya River, but at this hour the river had vanished into the black muscle of the night. Only the lights of the barges remained, sliding past like slow confession.There were four of them at the table.Niran, the host. Sixty-two. Hair the colour of iron f...

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Kith And Kin

She took a deep breath and said to her boss, 'You know what? I quit!' 'But you just begged me for a raise,' said Travel Tim. 'Yes, and I thanked you. Now I want to see the world,' Tina was panting. Her managing director thought she was about to have another fit. 'Sit down and relax; please don't get worked up.' Tina took a gulp of tea, swept her hair away from her overlarge glasses and started a three-minute monologue. She then smiled at him. 'I am sorry to let you go, but as you've explained at length, great length, that you are fed up with...

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Ginger Memories

‘HERE WE ARE; I hope you’re happy,’ said Edgar. ‘Do I take it that you are unhappy?’ asked Arthur. The “Blue” bus chugged to a halt behind the market. The morning rush had ended, and shoppers laden with fresh goods had trekked to restaurants, hotels and homes. Tuk-Tuks queued for fares. The two tourists battled to get more room and squeezed in. The driver worried about the weight, but speaking no English he was lumbered with the pair. Scared he would need to pedal uphill, he was relieved that he could run at least part way downhill towards t...

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The Second Man

‘LOOK, I’VE HAD it up to here.’ Daniel stretched as high as he could reach. His workmates grinned; they held back the usual laughs they shared with him. They suspected something was wrong with him. ‘I don’t need to work in this office; I can work from home. Look at Jenny; she completes her tasks on time and just had a baby.’ They all grinned again, this time less sure than before. Adam tapped Beth’s thigh, and they smirked. ‘What is going on with him?’ asked Adam.‘Sir, I want to work from home, actually online. Is that okay?’‘You only live n...

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Snap!

‘MUM, CAN I look at the old photo albums?’‘Of course, you can dear.’‘I miss Dad so much, I hope if I see his picture he will come back.’‘Oh, darling, I’m so sorry, he will never come back.’‘Will I see him in heaven?’‘Don’t cry, Julie, or you’ll start me off.’‘I’ve never seen you cry. Aren’t you sad?’‘Of course, I am, but people show their grief in different ways. Go on up you go and look at our family snaps.’‘Can I take your phone with me? Then I can see more recent shots?’‘Okay, but if it rings, run down to me instantly.’ 'Is that your Dad’...

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Shadows In The Museum

‘CHRIST, IT’S BOILING,’ said Giles to himself. He had no friends, and his family barely spoke to him. So, he decided Thailand was the perfect place to escape to. He travelled alone. ‘Go to Pattaya, you’ll love it,’ said one of the guys at the factory.‘Yeah, even you might find a girlfriend there.’ Laughed another.So, Giles searched Google for holidays in “The Land of Smiles”.He then looked for the cheapest flight to Bangkok. Two weeks later he clasped his previously unused passport and headed for Heathrow. The flight was late, but it didn’t ...

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Not Singing In The Rain

‘I DON’T WANT you getting drunk.’ ‘No, Dad, I won’t,’ said Jennifer. ‘I remember when I was eighteen…’ ‘Yes, Dad. I know.’ ‘Look you’re my only daughter. I don’t want anything happening to you.’ ‘Okay, Dad, I’m old enough to look after myself. We’re only going to Winkers.’ ‘Yes, I know what goes on in there.’ ‘Dad, I can show them ID at last, and they will let me in. Stop going on.’ ‘You said, “We’re only going”, who are you going with?’ ‘Please, give it a rest. I’m going with the group I go to the pub with.’ ‘Yeah, you weren’t old enough t...

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Not Long Now

PATRICK WALKED AT a gentle pace, there was no rush. He knew he was lying to himself. He lengthened his stride. He was on a footpath between paddy fields. Most of his neighbours grew rice. A few enjoyed the peace of countryside living without the need to work. Others, like Patrick, worked online and braved the twenty-minute run into Bangkok when needed. Patrick and his wife had differing dreams. He loved quiet, and she loved city lights. To live in the fields is considered a backward step for a Bangkok bar girl like Nong Moo. Moo lived the go...

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A Sign Of Refrain?

NAKED SHOULDER MUSCLES twinged as Jeff stared into the dark night ahead. He peered up at the stars, no answer bounced down at his balcony. He grunted and studied the full moon, but still no response from the heavens. His girlfriend lay dead behind him. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered. He jumped across her body and hopped to the bedroom. ‘Where did she put my clean clothes?’ He opened drawer after drawer. ‘At last,’ he grunted. Clean boxers, and fresh Levis, both pulled out and sniffed at. Then a pristine white shirt dangled in front of his nose. Ear...

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The Night Market

‘Where did Conny go?’ asked Mark. ‘No idea, he just up here and went,’ said Pete. ‘He did the same last night. What is going on?’ Their food arrived simultaneously: a plate of crispy pork from the stall they were sitting at and a less spicy bowl of noodles from next door. Smiles from the stallholders and customers as the plates slid across the table. Pete could eat chillis like a Thai, but Mark struggled with anything hotter than ketchup. ‘How is your room?’ asked Pete. ‘Fine, same as yours I guess?’ ‘The hotel is great value, okay, not on ...

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Red Car

‘YOU’RE BETTER THAN THIS.’ ‘Yeah. Then what?’ ‘Sports writer for some local rag? Come on,’ Bert, the night editor said. ‘I’ve been scribbling about the local football all day. Now, I’m waiting for our local cricketing hero to score a few runs in Australia. Four in the morning in London, and it rains in Sydney. I’m knackered and have wasted my time, our star player is in the pavilion drinking tea.’ said Rick. They both laughed. ‘If you worked for a decent paper they would have flown you out there.’ ‘Yes, but I work here with you darling,’ bot...

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