Podcast: Mother

'Mother' is one of my short stories. This was written while I contemplated the future of humankind as we push our planet inevitably to being uninhabitable. 

Produced by Brian Byrne for Kilcullen Diary.

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Listen: Seeing the Light

Sometimes, no matter how badly you think of yourself as a person, no matter how much guilt keeps you in nightmares, there's someone out there to bring you through to a second chance. 

This podcast is from my series of short fiction, which I have been writing over many years. Produced by Brian Byrne for Kilcullen Diary.

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Listen: Name of a Lady

This podcast is one of a series of my short stories. It was written some time after a visit to the Chateau Cloux in Amboise, in the Loire region of France. The chateau is where the artist and inventor Leonardo da Vinci spent the last years of his life. Produced by Brian Byrne for Kilcullen Diary.

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KD SoundCloud: Marching with the Saints

In this edition of the Kilcullen Diary SoundCloud, we're doing a little fiction, a short story of mine from the early 1990s, writes Brian Byrne.

Sometimes, though, real life follows fiction, as it did in this case.

I hope you enjoy. (Cover photo by Victor Freitas from Pexels.)

Beat the Virus: Stay At Home. 

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Eclipsed - a story

As the beginnings of a creative writing section to the Diary, we publish below a piece of what is termed 'flash fiction', by Kilcullen Writing Group member John Martin. It is envisaged that we'll set up a parallel space on the Diary for such writing if it proves to be popular -- Editor.

ECLIPSED

by John Martin.

He felt an incredible lightness in his body and he marvelled at the feeling of happiness which filled his being. She was there by his side, his arm fitted around her slim waist, her head nestled against his shoulder. They were standing in a forest clearing. A full moon illuminated the scene with a warm creamy light. Despite the elation he felt, somewhere deep in his subconscious a troublesome image struggled to emerge. She turned her face towards him, and he closed his eyes as he bent forward. Somewhere a bell was tolling and he paused, his face within inches of hers.

He opened his eyes and the harsh early morning light shattered his dream. The feelings of happiness and joy evaporated and were replaced by the gut wrenching loneliness that had become his constant companion during his waking hours. He felt cheated, another few seconds of dreaming and he would have kissed her once more. But now she was gone and he was alone, solitary in an uncaring world.

As he rolled out of bed he gasped at the sudden knifing pain which caught him unawares. He reached for the tablets on the bedside locker but his trembling hand knocked the bottle over, and as he bent to retrieve it, he felt a blow like the kick of a horse in his chest. He crumpled to the floor.

He was once more in the forest clearing. Her head was still inclined towards him but he felt compelled to look up. A dark shadow had started to move across the face of the full moon.

“An eclipse,” he thought to himself.

He watched in fascination as the moon gradually disappeared and the light in the clearing faded until there was nothing only the all enveloping darkness.

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