The collected writings of a Renegade Tourist

Category Fiction

Fictionalizing the News No. 14: The Bee Killer

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, and as soon as the immediate rage had subsided he started pacing back and fourth in the kitchen, thinking things over in what he considered to be a more rational manner...read the rest

Fictionalizing the News No. 13: The Asylum Seeker

Hamid and Babak were seated at the small table in their shared room at the refugee center. Officially it was an 'initial reception center for asylum seekers' but no one – neither the Germans nor the people living there - called it that; to Hamid and Babak it was just ' the barracks'. They were playing cards as usual, there wasn't much else to do other than watch TV in the common room or go into town. The former meant being stuck with German TV channels and neither of them spoke enough German to enjoy it, and the latter required money which they didn't have. So they were stuck playing cards...read the rest

Oxventure Chronicles: The Spicy Rat Caper

It was mid morning when Dob entered Caster Falls. Following the noises of people and animals he made his way to the main market square. Once there he surveyed the vendors and people milling about, not a single one with green skin, so he unslung his lute, stepped into the middle of the square and started playing his sister's lullaby...read the rest here

Fictionalizing the News No. 12: Late Night Trucking

The dashboard clock showed 3:05 am, he tried to suppress a yawn then reached over and grabbed his cup of coffee. He took a swig of the drink, replaced the cup in the cup holder then stared out through the wind shield. He was alone on the road, not a single vehicle in sight, and all he could see was was the stretch of road lit up by the truck's headlights and beyond that, darkness. The window was already open but he rolled it down even further,  and opened the one on the  passenger side as well. The cool night breeze, now blowing straight through the cab of his truck, made him feel refreshed and he could concentrate on the road once more...continue reading

Fictionalizing the News No. 11: Trees

peered out between the curtains. The world outside was bleak and gray, the rain pouring down, turning the gutters into streams and lashing the sides of the buildings. Down below the branches of the trees lining the street were whipping back and forth in the strong wind and up above dark clouds were scudding across the leaden sky...continue reading

Text Snippet: The Riders and The Prisoner

As usual, Bran had been give a place at the edge of the camp, some distance away from the horses and all the gear, but close enough that the others could easily keep an eye on him. He was sitting on an old, half rotten log looking at the men and women setting up camp for the night. He raised his bound hands to his face to scratch at the stubble on his chin while he contemplated his situation. Continue reading...

Grandma Chosen One

Grandma Applebottom had just picked up her knitting when the door bell rang. Her grandchildren had just been visiting and she assumed one of them had forgotten something and come back. Knitting needles still in hand, she went to the answer the door. Outside was a tall slim man in a cloak the color of the night. ”Have you come to collect me?” she asked, a hint of trepidation in her voice...continue reading

Short Story: Autonomous System Offline

That day started just like any other. The alarm clock rang at 7:30, John turned over in bed to try to shut the noise out but couldn’t ignore it so he rolled out of bed with a grumpy “Alright, I’m up!”  His AI assistant replied “Alarm off,” and the beeping stopped. He went into the bathroom to start his morning routine. He was in the middle of getting dressed when there was a ‘bong’ from the AI assistant’s speaker “You’re transportation has been arranged, it will arrive in eleven minutes” the neutral voice informed him. “Thanks Siri,” he mumbled out … Read the rest

Fictionalizing the News No. 10: The Car Chase

Spring had yet to arrive to Örebro, this morning it was overcast and a couple of degrees below freezing. Lars turned up his coat collar to shield himself from the cold and started walking towards the ICA supermarket a couple of blocks away. He muttered under his breath as he walked, angry at himself for forgetting to buy breakfast but there was nothing else he could do about it. As he was passing the central station a thought struck him, there was sure to be a Pressbyrån kiosk in the station concourse; he could buy himself a coffee and an overpriced sandwich, then sort out breakfast for the coming week later in the day. He veered off his original course and headed back towards the station building...continue reading

Fictionalizing the News No. 9: The Sex Offender

He felt the mans hand on his thigh, and though he couldn't quite define why, he felt there was something intensely wrong about it. He looked up at the man, thinking he should protest in some way but the man gave him a stern look that silenced him directly. The mans hand moved slowly up and down his leg, kind of like a caress, but it didn't feel good like when his mom hugged him and stroked his back. Too afraid to do anything else, he tried to ignore the bad feeling and...continue reading

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