Coming Soon: Short Story in Parts

I have not been publishing stories for a while, and I think that it is time to change that. I guess I have been concentrating more on my recent dog blogs and have left behind the other types of writing which I really love.

Fiction, both poetry and prose, are where my heart is really at. So, it is time to get back to it. I have just started working on a new short story, at least I think it will be short. I don’t really know where and when it will finish because I am planning on publishing it in short pieces. Then, we will see where it goes.

So expect the first, short, part of the story to appear soon. I am planning regular additions to the story, so you shouldn’t have to wait too long for the next installment. I hope it proves interesting, it is an experiment for me, as well as being motivation to keep writing and publishing the story. Let me know what you think as the parts appear, and I hope you enjoy it.

© Neil Hayes and neilhayeswrites

Burning the Past : a story

I put tulips under all the pillows, and then I set fire to the house. It was a ritual that I had often dreamt of, symbols of the love I once had for this place. But that feeling seems old now, a burnt flower is already where my heart used to be. The happy times are like a movie reel playing through my mind and I no longer feel any connection to them as real events.

Crouched down the street I watch with fascination as the fire takes hold, spreading from room to room, slowly consuming the whole place. I want to watch for as long as possible, to make sure the job is done. If I see this place reduced to ashes perhaps the ashes inside me could finally be cleared away.

A girl is walking along the street and she stops directly in front of my position. She seems to sense something is wrong, and she casts her eyes around searching for whatever her instincts have alerted her to. Why did someone have to come along? Couldn’t I just have a few moments alone to enjoy this?

Continue reading “Burning the Past : a story”


It always feels the same. Just another day, standing, waiting to go to work. The van should be here any minute. Not even light yet, there is a chill in the air.

The other guys are here too. We’re not really friends, but they’re OK. Just normal guys, happy to have some work, some income for their families.

To the other people driving by, or standing at the bus stop, we seem to be some sort of exotic creatures. Let out of our cages for the day, what could we be up to?

But it’s always been like this. I suppose I get it, my people don’t always help themselves. There are certainly enough lazy people in my community. It’s so frustrating, I want to slap them up the back of the head. Things are getting better, but they don’t change quickly, of course. It takes time, so much time.

Still, it starts to get to you after a while, being looked at with suspicion all the time. People crossing the street, jumping when they haven’t seen you coming. You start to feel low, to feel less, maybe even to feel nothing.

I’m determined not to let that happen, to fight it. It’s all in the mind, the power of positive thinking. I am me, not some character created in a bigot’s mind. I am more than my skin and clothes. 

On some days the anger builds, and I feel ready to explode. It all seems so unfair. After all, what do they want from me? If I was sitting outside, smoking and drinking they would be judging me, but why on my way to work?

Here comes the van, at least once I’m inside I am with my own. But that’s the problem, I don’t feel like I belong here either. Constantly floating between two foreign worlds, what an existence.

We are jammed in to every available space, there are no seats in the back, of course. It’s a warm, stuffy and rattly ride to the site. Some time to chat, to smoke, maybe just to zone out.

Our work assignments come as an unpleasant surprise every day. There shouldn’t be any real shock, of course, the shock would be getting a good job. But that’s not what we are for. We are for the shit jobs, the shit that no-one else wants to touch, we have the right camouflage after all. 

Anger is my enemy, it creeps up on me and, before I know it, my mind is whirring. Every slight I have ever received, all the words and looks, every rejection. Then I have to remember, the positive mindset I am trying, desperately trying to construct. It’s OK if it slips, occasionally, it’s all about how quickly you catch it and shore up the foundations again.

As we rattle along, I begin to look at my co-workers. We are a right mixture. We are young and old, energetic and lazy, sharp and dull, honest and not so. There are people here who, with a little encouragement, could grow into something. And there are others who would always be standing with one foot on the bottom rung. Am I just being arrogant, thinking that I deserve more? What makes me better than them? And that is always what gets me, maybe I’m not.

There’s that self-doubt again, I get the feeling that today is going to be a tough one. One of those days where positivity is a struggle and it’s just going to be a matter of pushing on through. But I mustn’t give up yet, the sun could still shine on my day and brighten my mood.

All of a sudden, we are here. The van crunches to a halt and the order comes to get out. Surprisingly, the sun is actually shining, the warmth on my skin feels like golden honey flowing over me. I stand for a few moments, hoping for some energy to flow into me. 

But the peace and solitude doesn’t last long. Mr Novak looks in a bad mood today, he’s over by the office barking orders. All of a sudden, he looks at me. The shiver running up my spine is like ice, this can’t be good. Why is he staring at me?


Who’s shouting? It’s Michal, the site supervisor.

‘Ondrej, come here, now,’ he shouts. He doesn’t look happy either, please God I can’t lose this job.

‘Yes, Michal, what’s happening?’ I ask, trying to sound upbeat.

‘The shit’s really been hitting the fan today. Novak is out for blood. Looks like somebody is going home early today,’ he says shaking his head.

My worst nightmare, losing the job I hate. There is only one thing worse than having a job you hate, having none.

At that moment a huge argument seems to have broken out. Two voices, shouting and screaming. Anger being vented.

‘I’m no thief Novak, who’s been telling stories? I’ll cut their fucking head off!’ it sounds like Jan the leader of our work gang.

‘No stories Jan, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Now take your shit and fuck off of my site!’ Mr Novak is shouting, but seems calm. He is in control, after all.

And that’s that. Jan slopes off, hurling some choice words over his shoulder, and then he’s gone. It takes that long for such a change. Jan’s been one of the gang leaders since I started working here, and for a few years before that too. 

I think everyone new he was skimming a few materials here and there, but he must have pushed it too far.

The atmosphere is thick now, everyone is waiting to see what happens next. Is there anyone else in the firing line?

‘Right, Ondrej, your up next,’ says Michal.

‘You’re fucking with me, I haven’t done shit,’ is my diplomatic reply.

‘Just go and see Mr. Novak, now,’ he orders.

The walk over seems like the walk through no man’s land. Leaving relative safety behind, crossing a zone of emptiness and approaching hostility. The anger builds inside me as I walk. By the time I approach Novak I am ready to burst, there is no way I am leaving quietly, I’ve done nothing.

‘I’ve been watching you for a while now Ondrej,’ Novak says.

A grunt is the best that I can do.

‘I watch everyone here, who takes what, how much. Everyone skims a little, some assholes too much and they take the piss. But you, never, as far as I can tell. Are you honest, or just smarter than the rest?’ he asks.

‘I’ve never stolen anything from you Mr. Novak, honestly,’ I can hardly breath as I say this. What is he thinking?

‘I believe you Ondrej. Can I ask you a question?’ he asks.

‘Of course,’ I say.

‘Where do you see yourself going with this firm? What do you want for yourself?’ he asks.

What is this a job interview? I can’t help but chuckle a bit.

‘What’s so funny?’ he asks with stern eyes.

‘Sorry. It’s just hard to explain. What do I want for myself? Actually, maybe it’s not so hard. A chance, that’s what I want. A chance to prove that I am worth more. More than a ditch digger’s wage. A chance of some dignity, to hold up my head, to show my family that there is another way,’ I am lecturing him now.

Sheepishly, I stop and avert my eyes. 

But I can still feel his stare burning into me. I decide to meet it, to see what is in this man’s heart. And when I do, I see hope. I can’t explain it, but I can see it.

‘It won’t be easy you know? Not all of the men will accept you. You will have to be tough, but I have a feeling you’ve always had to be,’ he says. ‘I need a new gang leader and you’re it. You’ve been here a couple of years now, keep working hard and we will see what you can achieve and where you can end up,’ he says so matter of factly. He can’t know what this means.

I’m speechless. All I can do is nod and smile. My heart feels like it is going to burst through my chest. Finally a step, forward, up, somewhere.

So this is what it feels like, pride. 



© Neil Hayes and neilhayeswriter

Another Day: Fiction

When I wake up, it feels like the world has stopped. No movement, only my breath. Stale air in, stale air out. No change, only stagnancy.

From my point of view, nothing much does change. The same journey every day, the same job, the same tasks. “Clean this, move that, do it better, do it different”, says the boss. Yes, even all in one sentence.

All I want is a surprise, just something small,along the way. Someone to treat me differently, a chance encounter or even an adventure. Wouldn’t that be nice?

I honestly don’t think that I have ever had an adventure. Even when I was young, my parents were so careful. And now, that seems to be ingrained in me. Approaching 30 and still treading water. I spend so much time thinking, and worrying about it. But it seems so hard to make the change. I can only watch so many motivational videos before I have to think, maybe I am just one of life’s failures.

We are told we are all special, but I don’t believe it. We are certainly unique. But what can we do to make ourselves exceptional, to shine, to be remembered? Well, people will remember this day. They will remember my name. I will not disappear.

Standing here, looking out of this window, I can already feel it. Maybe I won’t be around for much longer, but I know that I will finally be noticed today. Click.



© Neil Hayes and neilhayeswriter


It’s so good to be out today. Alone, focused and present. Walking home, slowly, today is photo day.

The landscape is frozen, solid. I have to focus on each step, the path is like ice. But it is so quiet, even in the middle of the day. Today I am looking for nature, not people.

I’m wrapped up warm but the chill is still penetrating all my layers. I have to try to keep moving, but not miss anything.

So far, I have a few shots, but I don’t feel like there is anything special.

The river is covered in snow. Footprints are crossing from one bank to the other. The place seems devoid of life.

There is one patch of unfrozen water, on the other side. It seems to be some sort of water inlet, there must be some water movement. It’s still strange though, the water shouldn’t be any warmer there, and it isn’t moving so fast. You would think that some birds would be there. If it’s warm, why not?

Above it, on the bank, is a small concrete block. Some sort of control mechanism I suppose. This is what I love, finding the details. It’s covered in some sort of design. Is it art? It’s hard to tell from here.

It’s a long way to the other side but I have to get closer. Actually I could do with the walk. I’ve been standing around for a while and even my bones are shivering.

When I reach the other side I feel better. I have warmed up after the walk, or the skate, I’m not sure what you would call it.

This block is fascinating. What is it covered in? Is it graffiti? Is it natural? Maybe some sort of weathering, or a strange combination of the two. Whatever it is, it seems to draw me.

Details seem to jump out at you. A face, a hand and when you touch it…

I can feel the pores of the concrete, its skin. It feels like I can even sense a feeling.

OK. What the fuck? That was just too creepy.

And the ground shifts, or is it me? It’s me. As I fall, I throw my camera over my shoulder. Then brave myself for the cold. I take a deep breath and plunge under water.

I recover quickly, only because it is shallow here, close to the bank. Lucky, since I swim like a bag of sand. I say it is shallow, but it still rises under my arms.

Confusion reigns, it’s warm. I know there is no reason for this. I suppose I should be grateful, otherwise I would be struggling. But the water is as warm as a bath. Why?

Anyway, for now I need to worry about how I am going to get out of this. The banks are deserted. I can either climb onto the ice, which seems sketchy. Or up the bank, but that inlet is the only area of bank with no ice.

I have to edge forward and be aware of the slippery boulders which form the bank of the river. They also slope upwards towards the bank, it would be easy to fall.

I’m next to the hole now. I might have to wait for help, I don’t see how I can get any purchase to drag myself up.

I turn around to look at the other bank, there must be some people around. As I do, I feel a warm gust of air on the back of my head. So that’s why it isn’t frozen here. I still don’t know why. There is nothing here. These are just channels from one arm of the river to another.

As I turn back to the hole, I get that feeling again. A presence. I can’t help but move forward, drawn towards whatever this thing is.

I feel something brush my leg and it is as if my bones have left my skin behind. I’m stumbling now, slipping back down the slope towards the ice, the frozen part of the river.

When I get close to the ice, it takes my breath away. So cold. This is how I should have felt when I first fell in. I struggle a little closer to the bank, and it is almost as if there is a line where I cross into the warm water. It isn’t a slow transition, it is instant.

It takes a few minutes for the warmth to permeate my body and for me to stop shivering. I’m OK now, but I want to get out. I don’t know what this is, I just know that I want no part of it.

I start screaming for help, panic is beginning to take over. Where is everybody? Earlier, I was wishing for no people, now I’ve never wanted to see another human so much in my life.

Time to take a few deep breathes. Whatever touched me before would have been as boring and everyday as a carp enjoying the warmth of this area. This isn’t Star Wars. There is no creature here living in the depths, scavenging on lost and discarded items.

I have to laugh at myself and my imagination. But as I get closer to the bank, there it is again. Nothing physical but a feeling. A sense of something, lost.

As I move closer, once again, I seem to feel so many emotions. One minute sorrow, of an unimaginable degree. Then anger, ferocious anger at the unfairness of the world. And also malevolence like I could never imagine.

And finally, as I approach the hole, joy. A rapturous joy like I have never felt. It is flooding through me, what could make someone, or something feel like that? Maybe a dream coming true. What you have been waiting for, finally approaching. Another soul to add to your collection.



© Neil Hayes and neilhayeswriter