burning-buildingLindsay jumped as a hand rested on her shoulder. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, but I don’t think you should be here. You don’t need to see this.” It was a local Policeman, Lindsay recognized him immediately.

“But my friends are in there,” she whispered, watching the flames in disbelief. Firefighters broke down the door, retreating momentarily as the flames escaped, reaching out gobble the new supply of oxygen.

I wonder why the door was locked. Lindsay thought.

“No one can go in there right now. It’s an inferno.”

She turned around as another fire engine pulled up behind her, firefighters jumping off before it even stopped, pointing their huge hoses into the flames.

The Policeman put his arm around her. “If you were in there tonight you had a lucky escape.”

“I left early. I didn’t stay for the last dance.”

“If you had, you’d be fighting for your life now. Go home!”

“I can’t.” she said, I need to be here. “My friends….”

“No you don’t, you can’t do anything to help anyone. Pretty soon this place will be a zoo with reporters, come on, let me give you a ride. I’ll need a statement from you, but that can wait until tomorrow. Did you see anything?”

“No, I was halfway down the road when I heard the explosion, well three explosions actually, but I didn’t see anything other than flames?” Lindsay said.

“Okay, let’s get you home, I’ll stop by and set you tomorrow. You live in the village don’t you?”


Lindsay allowed herself to be let to the Police car, hardly able to comprehend what was happening.

“What’s you address love?”

“13 Malpass Road, turn left and its the first building on the left. Just after the playing fields.”

When the car came to a stop outside Lindsay’s apartment, she sat in the passenger seat, unable to move.

“Do you want me to come in with you? Is there someone I can call?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” she answered, “I can call my brother if I need to, he lives in town. My parents are in France. I’ll be fine though.”

“Okay, well if you’re sure. Here’s my card. Call me if you need to. I’ll be back to talk to you tomorrow. I’m sure the local news will be covering this, but don’t watch it too much. The make everything sound much worse than it is.”

“Alright thanks.”

The Police car remained outside while Lindsay let herself into her apartment. She locked and bolted the door after her, feeling  nervous, although she didn’t know why.

Just after the Police car pulled away, another car pulled slowly into her street parking across the road. The passengers remained inside, settling in their seats as though to sleep.

That’s odd! She hadn’t seen that car in street before, but something about it was familiar.

I’m not sure if writing is a hobby or obsession for me, but I just can’t stop doing it. I hope you enjoy my new blog story. My novel Dead of July is still available on Amazon. Give it a try!

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson


Meeting the Demons – A Ghost Story (Part 3)



smoking potHitching a ride

The peaceful cemetery faded away and I was surrounded by chaos and darkness…………….I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. It was dark and I was on the side of a busy busy motorway. I recognized it immediately. It was the MI, the road to London. 

Was this a cruel joke? A flashback of my delinquent teens? I heard my mother’s voice again.

Don’t be scared, we are exorcising your demons. This is the night you ran away from home, you were only fifteen! 

“I know and I’m sorry” I said. “My dad was in hospital and you were all alone. Why was I so awful? Mum, I really am sorry.”

I know pet, don’t worry, I forgave you the minute you came home and I saw your face. I could see how sorry you were.

Although my body didn’t move, my mind moved forward in time. I sat in a field by a camp fire, it was 1972, I was smoking pot. I groaned inwardly remembering that night. I was arrested and my parents collected me from the Police Station. Was I ashamed when I saw them? No! Did I see anger or disappointment in their eyes? No! Only concern. “Mum, I let you down so many times, how can you ever forgive me?” I asked.

I heard a familiar gentle laugh which brought tears to my eyes, my mother’s voice continued. You will be a mother one day and you will understand that a mother’s love never goes away, just gets stronger. You will be there, just as I was, to help your child pick up the pieces and move on with her life. She will fight you, tell you she hates you and make you cry, but she will always love you and you will always love her and be there when she needs you. 

I fought back the tears as I listened. “Mum, don’t leave yet, lets remember some good times too.”

I wouldn’t go without remembering the good times. The good times will chase away the Demons.

I became a child again. The year was 1974 and we were on the beach in Blackpool……..

I love to write, it’s good for my soul. I have written several short stories, which will be released later this year. My first novel ‘Dead of July’ is available on Amazon and can be purchased by clicking on the book cover below. Judging by the reviews, this book is a fun read. I certainly enjoyed writing it. 

A German Ghost Story

A German Ghost Story


Allyson and the Devil

Allyson slept well that night. She didn’t really think her spell would work, but she enjoyed the exercise. Playing with magic felt good.

The following day Allyson got ready for school, eager to see if her magic worked. She dressed all in black, deciding to go for a Gothic look, no one cared, everyone hated her anyway. She grabbed a granola bar and smoothie from the refrigerator and ate her breakfast as she waited for the bus.

Things weren’t quite right when Allyson got to school, she noticed it right away. Nothing she could put her finger on though. It was just a little different, calmer somehow.

She dreaded her first class because she shared with Linda, Ann and Janet. They were the ‘in crowd’, the beautiful people, the girls who made her life miserable. Today would be just like any other, unless of course her spell worked.

Allyson walked into class and took her usual seat at the back. The three desks by the window, where her tormentors normally sat, were empty. It looked like it was going to be a peaceful morning. Allyson sighed with relief.

Then Linda came through the door. At least it looked like Linda. The girl who walked through the door was clumsy, she dropped her books in the doorway, stood on the front of her skirt as she bent down to scoop them up. She was uncoordinated and ungainly.

She was followed by Janet, was that really Janet? The tall, usually glamorous looking girl was far from glamorous. She looked like a bean pole, her clothes hanging on her in an unflattering manner. Her usually long, silken curly locks hung down her face, limp and greasy. She shuffled to her seat and sat gazing listlessly out of the window.

That left Ann, she came last. Her blonde short-cropped hair still looked great, but couldn’t cover the acne pitted face. You could almost see new eruptions on her chin as she walked to her seat.

Allyson smiled as she touched her soft skin and silky hair. She felt good, glad she had found the old black magic book in the library, she though she may just keep it. Did she want to reverse the spell she had cast on her three classmates….maybe…but not just yet!

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Dark, Deep and Dangerous – Rock and Roll Suicide – Is there Life on Mars?

River Swale

Like most teens, I was troubled. Why is it growing up so difficult? I thought about taking my life on more than one occasion, feeling like no one understood me, or cared about me. I’m lucky to still be here, believe me. I was a teen in the late sixties, early seventies, when temptation was abundant, drugs, rock concerts, free love. So many things to temp a teenager to take the wrong path. I strayed to the dark side a couple of times, but always came back.

One chilly September evening I had the biggest row with my mother and I ran out of the house, slamming the back door behind me. The sun was setting as I walked down the back lane to the banks of the River Swale. My intention was to walk into the cold water and end my misery.

I found a comfortable rock to sit on, pulled out a pack of cigarettes (players no. 6) and inhaled the killer smoke deeply. It felt good. I sat and smoked what I thought may be my last cigarette as I watched the dark deep waters of the Swale beckon to me as they slid by. I finished my cigarette and looked at the smooth surface of the river as though hypnotized. It looked like oil, dark and smooth. I imagined myself walking slowly into the darkness. I would disappear without a trace. I didn’t think of the bloated body that may turn up a few miles downstream after a couple of days. I didn’t think of how it would hurt my parents.

I lit another cigarette and thought of the David Bowie song ‘Rock and Roll Suicide’. I could hear him singing it in my head. The words SUICIDE echoed loudly.

Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth
You pull on your finger, then another finger, then your cigarette
The wall-to-wall is calling, it lingers, then you forget
Ohhh how how how, you’re a rock n roll suicide

I stood up and walked to the edge of the water. It beckoned me.

‘It’s a god awful small affair, to the girl with the mousey hair’

Another Bowie song, my song, but this time it wasn’t playing in my head. It was real. I looked around. “Hello” I shouted “Who’s out there?”

No one answered, but a new song started.

“Will you stay in my lovers story? If you stay you won’t be sorry, cos we believe in you”

“Hello”. I shouted again. “I know you are there. I like David Bowie too. You are playing all of my favorite songs”

I saw a light in the bushes behind me. Should I be scared? All thoughts of suicide were forgotten. My head was full of David Bowie and the light in the bushes. I walked towards it. It was a flashlight. I couldn’t see who was holding it because it was shining in my eyes. I prepared to turn and run when a voice said “Sandra, come home, lets talk”

It was my mum. I was glad to see her. “Sorry mum” I said “I didn’t want to fight”

“I know honey” she replied “It’s what families do”

We walked back up the dark unlit lane together, glad of the flashlight.

“Mum, did you hear music?” I asked.

“Yes it was that awful Bowie noise. Your friend Bobbie was sitting on a stone by the river with his transistor radio. Is he Okay? Do you want to bring him home?”

I stopped and looked at her “Mum, Bobbie’s is dead, he jumped out of a window last week, it can’t have been Bobbie” I said.

She looked at me, shining the flashlight in my face almost blinding me. “Why did he jump out of a window, he was such a nice boy. It certainly looked like him.”

“LSD” I answered.

We carried on walking. I am not sure if she knew what LSD was.

“With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue, the only thing I ever got from you was sorrow……sorrow”

I looked at my mum to see if she heard this, she didn’t. 

Sitting on the stone wall, in the shadows was Bobbie, transistor radio in his hand. He had a sad look on his face. I was still alive. I survived another traumatic teenage episode. Bobbie had saved me. It was too late for him though. 

Life is never so bad that you should end it, especially when you are young.


Watch out for my upcoming novel ‘Dead of July’, which will be released later this year.  (Preview) Dead of July

My first short stories are available on Amazon. I believe you can get them for free. They aren’t perfect, but have received enough good reviews to encourage me to continue writing…..’Dead of July’ is currently with my editor and will be my debut novel. I am extremely excited about this one. 

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