Andy Hawthorne

The dark closed in fast. John Fletcher turned up his jacket collar, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and...

Today was the day when the loud buzzing in my ears was going to bugger off. It’s been doing my...

Saturday evening and my coffee mug is empty. I’ll sort that in a minute. First, though, I need to have...

The fog had been in for three days. Martin sat at the corner table with his pint. And his hands...

The old Grimsditch canal slid beneath the railway arch on King Street like black grease. Noah Peters walked slow. Shuffling....

Suffolk, England 1646 The rain came sideways through Wychford Parva that morning, blown off the fens in grey sheets. Nellie...

The cursor blinked. That was all it did. That thin, pulsing vertical line on the otherwise blank white screen. It...

You’ll have noticed that the main part of my blog contains short horror stories. I thought I’d explain how I...