Summer Shorts 2

By The Indie Collaboration

In this second helping of summer fun, The Indie Collaboration comes up with yet another unique collection of original stories from the authors we have come to know so well. Now in our third year, The Indie Collaboration comes up with yet more exciting, enthralling and funny stories. Ideal for relaxing in the summer sun, just don’t get carried away and stay out too long.

The Indie Collaboration grew out of a group of independent authors who decided to show the world how great works of fiction can be, without the involvement of any large publishing companies, by creating a direct channel between themselves and their readers. Each author in this anthology has freely donated their time and work and are committed to the Indie Collaboration's cause:

“We offer the best of indie writing in bite size pieces and wherever possible, for free.”

In this Anthology:

The Happiest Day of his Life
By Alan Hardy

The Secret Lives of Buses
By Kristina Jacobs

Seven Ages of a Band
By Dani J. Caile

Grandma and a Man Named Doc
By Margene Wiese-Baier

When Only God Can Break the Silence
By Margene Wiese-Baier

The Red Wagon
By James Gordon

A Thousand Steps
By C. S. Johnson

Flash Fiction and Poetry
By Chris Raven

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter John
• Release date: Jun 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311980304

The Indie Collaboration

The Indie Collaboration grew out of a group of like minded independent authors. Together, we decided to show the world how great works of fiction can be created without the involvement of any large publishing companies; creating a direct channel between ourselves and our readers is of the utmost importance to us. Each author has freely donated their time and work and are committed to the Indie Collaboration's cause of:Offering the best of indie authorsin bite size pieces for free.We hope you enjoy our books

Book preview

The Indie Collaboration Presents

Summer Shorts II

In this second helping of summer fun, The Indie Collaboration comes up with yet another unique collection of original stories from the authors we have come to know so well. Now in our third year, The Indie Collaboration comes up with yet more exciting, enthralling and funny stories. Ideal for relaxing in the summer sun, just don’t get carried away and stay out too long.

ISBN: 9781311980304

Smashwords Edition

Edited by Chris P. Raven

Copyright retained by the Authors

Cover Art by Book Birdy Designs

The Indie Collaboration grew out of a group of independent authors who decided to show the world how great works of fiction can be, without the involvement of any large publishing companies, by creating a direct channel between themselves and their readers. Each author in this anthology has freely donated their time and work and are committed to the Indie Collaboration's cause:

"We offer the best of indie writing in bite size pieces and wherever possible, for free."

We hope you enjoy our books.

If you did, then please leave a review where you purchased it.

CONTENTS

The Happiest Day of his Life

By Alan Hardy

The Secret Lives of Buses

By Kristina Jacobs

Seven Ages of a Band

By Dani J. Caile

Grandma and a Man Named Doc

By Margene Wiese-Baier

When Only God Can Break the Silence

By Margene Wiese-Baier

The Red Wagon

By James Gordon

A Thousand Steps

By C. S. Johnson

Flash Fiction and Poetry

By Chris Raven

About The Authors

Other Publications by The Indie Collaboration

The Happiest Day of his Life

By Alan Hardy

It was a terrible dilemma. Malcolm had finally had the big break, and he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t sure who he could share it with. Who had a right to all that money? She could not be a part of it. She was so morally bankrupt she had to be out of the circle.

He had always felt there was something there. Something concealed. It was just outside the house, under the grey-slabbed patio. The house was very old, just the sort of place to dream of buried treasure ready to be unearthed. And there was. That slab which, over the years, had seemed to open up a bigger and bigger gap with its neighbour, had finally yielded up its secrets. He’d prized it open this spring when he’d been sweeping away the remaining leaves, muck and dust of winter. The gap had looked really large, and he’d caught a glimmer of something white in its hidden depths.

He couldn’t let her share in this discovered wealth. She was evil. She’d damaged him. She had no right to it. She had no claim. If she did have a right to share in the money, well, there was no God, no moral scheme in the world. There was no justice, and no punishment. She had been driving the car that killed the child. She had been selfishly fantasising about her own needs and plans instead of concentrating on the road. She was to blame. He wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault the child didn’t know how to cross the road properly. She was the evil one. She was the one responsible for the void in his life. The emptiness in his body. The draining away of energy from his limbs. Ever since that time it had been as if a nagging question-mark pervaded him. His body ached with its loss. From that time, whenever he looked in the bathroom mirror, he was scared by what looked back at him.

When he’d slit open the old sack with a screwdriver, which he’d grabbed from the shed, and the pristine golden coins had clinked and clanged on the stone slab, he’d quickly gathered them up, replaced them in the earth they’d rested in for centuries and manoeuvred the slab back over them with his foot. Later he found he’d bruised a couple of toes. He would have to think this one out. He had time.

The house held something of an extended family. There were so many rooms. The family’s origins were Greek, even though present generations had lost all traces of foreignness. But the Hellenic glue which made the family stick together had remained. Brothers and sisters. Cousins. Looking after aging grandparents instead of slinging them on a huge pile and letting them rot and stink their way to oblivion. Or setting fire to it. No care homes for them.

So, they should all share in the money. The whole troupe. Like a pack of gypsies. Malcolm knew that. There was never a question of secreting the treasure away and keeping it for himself and his immediate family. Himself, his wife, and their other children. But he was paralysed. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t let that other one in on the family luck. She had sinned against him, and against the bonds which held the family together. He couldn’t make her rich.

He was held back from shouting out his good fortune from the roof-tops. Evil and guilt could not freely partake of a simple stroke of good fortune. Finding the treasure was a dream come