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Drew Payne

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Everything posted by Drew Payne

  1. I knew it was a mistake the moment the words were out of my mouth, but it was too late. I couldn’t catch hold of those words, as they raced through the air, and pull them back into my mouth, never to be spoken. “Will you marry me?” “Yes,” Megan replied, her face full of surprise and pleasure. Her expression filled me with guilt. This was the wrong thing to do, but it was what was expected of me, I knew. We were both eighteen then, but far younger in our shared naivety. We had met at
  2. Then It was the last time I saw him, standing alone in the centre of an airport lift as the doors closed on him. He was dressed casually, jeans and a white cotton shirt, his two suitcases at his feet. His dirty-blond hair was ruffled and unkempt, as if he had just tumbled out of bed, and the equally blond stubble covering his chin only added to that impression. He stared at me with those dark, intensely blue eyes, a small and sad smile on his face. As the lift doors closed he raise
  3. This is a collection of my flash fiction, stories looking at modern day gay life (and life from a few years ago). Each chapter is a different story. So sit back, put your feet up, and read some of my “case studies”.
  4. Drew Payne

    Those Moments

    Thank you to everyone for your feedback. This was a fictional story but I am so happy it resounded with you, that means a lot to me. This is also an example of the type of story I like to write, the human impact of a subject or issue, and I hope to be publishing more stories soon(ish).
  5. Drew Payne

    Those Moments

    Thanks for your comments. I based this story on other people's experience. I work as a nurse and this story came from watching what carers went through. I feel so much is expected of carers without asking them. Jaysalmn, I am sorry for what you went through, that must have been so hard and draining.
  6. His funeral was neatly planned, organised to run perfectly to schedule, but that’s what my sister could always do well, plan and organise something. The church was full; the only space left empty was the front pew, left for us “The Family”. There were people there I hadn’t seen in years, people he’d worked with decades ago, people whose faces I didn’t recognise, people who had certainly never visited him in his last years of life. My sister must have invited everyone he had ever known. But
  7. A funeral is the end of a life and the start of grieving for many of us. But what do you do when your emotions don’t fit into this? The narrator of this complete short story asks this question.
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