Off To See The Wild West Show Part 2: Prologue (June 1904: Hull, Yorkshire) (1/3) By Frank Beill 1886: Hull, Yorkshire

(1/3), (2/3), (3/3). Part 1 Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. Part 2 Prologue, Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4.

From the outside the two-storey building looked even more forbidding now than the first time I saw it. Eighteen more years of Hull soot had turned bricks from red to dark brown. The dank smell of Grandmother's skirt returned to me. I caught my breath. So many emotions stirred inside me. Doors in my mind that I'd kept closed for so long were opening again but this time I knew I was free to walk away. I climbed those six steps again but when it came to turning the polished brass doorknob I paused. I had come so far, so full of expectation but what if ...?

It was a new century and I was living a different life. There was no feeling of nostalgia for this building. How could there be? Such an emotional response could only be reserved for memories of a small number - a very small number - of people with whom I'd shared a few pleasant experiences within these walls. My only feeling was anticipation. Would this visit lead me to those I wanted to see again? Like me they'd be long gone from here but, like it or not, this was where my search had to begin. I turned the knob and pushed the door. It was stiff and the hinges still creaked. The entrance lobby felt much smaller but the strong carbolic smell still remained. I trembled. The smell brought back a deep-seated ache.

Had the small arched window slipped lower down the wall? I needed to stoop to look through it. At nearly six feet tall, I was no longer a little boy up on his toes and craning his neck trying to peep into the room beyond. There was no problem looking over the windowsill and into the Master's office now. It reminded me of a window in a railway station ticket office. What some might have called 'reception' had felt like the end of the line to a newly arrived orphan. I tapped on the glass. A man looked up from behind a familiar oak desk at the rear of the office. I remembered this room so well but the person coming towards me wasn't the Master.

The glass panel jerked open. 'May I help you?' The man looked no older than myself but he wore the same funereal attire as Old Stoney all those years ago. What did he make of me? A brown face and a red and white checked shirt that must have lit up the gloomy lobby - not to mention a frilled buckskin jacket, hanging down to thighs clad in blue denim. 'I used to be one of the boys here,' I said. 'I want to find my sister and my friends. We were all here.' I assumed Mary must have followed me into the orphanage.

Maybe I was trying to find myself as well.

Continued... Next Page (2/3)

Fiction - Buried In The Past By Joe Hakim
	Arriving back in Hull, the first thing that hits me is just how much hasn't changed. As I walk down Princes Ave, I look at all the café bars that have sprang up to replace the odd little shops and businesses that used to line it, but it still feels the same somehow. There's a kind of progress, I suppose - even if progress means it's starting to resemble everywhere else in Britain - Read more...

Fiction - Red Carpet Blues By Steve Rudd
	'One more word out of you, and it'll be your last - I promise.' The ice-cold gun nudging Ellie's temple was motivation enough for her to keep her mouth shut, as she trembled with fear. She daren't even sob in case her captor construed that any form of noise was reason enough to blow her brains out without further ado. So much for being a superstar in her own right, Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 20 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
	The deck rose and fell beneath my feet. My moccasins were meant for the solid earth of the Dakotas, not a slippery wooden deck in an Atlantic storm. I continued focusing on the infant pony and repeated all the psalms and hymns I could recall. Words that were drilled into me. I never thought they'd ever be of any use, other than to avoid Jolly Rodgers' Read more...

Fiction - 'I Do' By Steve Rudd
	Nobody told me marriage would be like this. I thought it would be bliss, day in and day out, but problems soon surfaced, after our hastily arranged elopement in good old Gretna - that bizarre little settlement that straddles the border between England and Scotland as though it can't quite decide where it stands; where it belongs; which side of the metaphorical fence it is Read more...

Fiction - Two Sides : A Friday Night Out In Hull By Joe Hakim
	I'm just finishing off at work, watching the clock and loading the pot-wash with plates and cups, waiting for Sarah to start her shift so I can go home. It's been a really busy day, so I'll be glad to see the back of the fuckin' place. I've been working at Sparks cafè bar on Newland Ave for over a year, but it's only been in the past couple of months it's got really busy. Fridays are Read more...

Fiction - Complicity Part 6 By Nick Quantrill
	Complicity is the new crime-fiction novella set in Hull featuring Detective Sergeant Coleman and Detective Constable Maynard. The thisisull.com serialisation is accompanied by the stunning black and white photography of Roland Standaert, which illustrates the story and takes a unique look at the city. Complicity and other stories are available for free. Read more...

Fiction - The M1 McDonalds Girl and the Most Suitable Bloke By Andy Bilton
	So I'm heading home. Heading north. Eighty, on the M1, just south of Sheffield. Pissing it down. That horizontal stuff that totally obscures your view, your only safe option being to get in to the inside lane and follow the red cat's eyes. Not ideal weather conditions for a must-get-there-quicker sort of situation such as this. I should slow down really but Helen's already been on the mobile Read more...

Fiction - Gloomy Sunday By Joe Hakim
	As we got closer I could see it framed against the horizon. From this distance it just looked like a huge black shape, like a giant lump of coal or something. "Jeezus, it's huge," I said. "Yeah, I'm guessing it's a male," Mike said. "Could be about fifty tonnes of whale washed up down there." Mike was a marine biologist. He'd been given the task of studying Read more...

Fiction - Kat Out of the Bag Chapter Thirteen By Steve Rudd
	I remembered the ring simply because it wasn't the type of ring that a man would usually choose to include in his pro-macho jewellery box. The rare stone at its heart shone like a bewildering beacon demanding attention in the pits of hell, while its subtly alluring design was elaborately detailed yet delicate. To all intents and purposes it looked like a lady's bridal ring, and thus the plot thickened. Read more...

Fiction - The Burden - A Short Story By Joe Hakim
	I step out into the sun and close my eyes, letting the light wash over my face. It's cold, and the wind pinches my cheeks but I feel complete, for the first time ever. Today the world is different. Today is the first day of a new beginning. Everything feels real and vivid, and I bathe in it, taking it all in like a child seeing a painting for the first time, judging the angles and Read more...

Fiction - Welcome To Hellville - Part 16 By Rich Mills
	"What music are you into, man?" The American exchange student who had earlier introduced himself, without any regard for Alan's need to be alone, suddenly threw a curve-ball of a question like this in his direction. "Well I listen to..." What followed was a definitive list of bands from Alan's wide-ranging rare vinyl and CD collection, he even Read more...

Fiction - The Guy Who Had All The Time In The World By Joe Hakim
	Sometimes it gets to be a bit too fuckin' much, I decide, after another day spent wandering the streets aimlessly. The sky is still bright purple - the colour of a fresh bruise - and the streets are still completely silent; not even the sound of birds chirping or distant traffic in the distance. Aside from that, everything seems to be much the same, at least on the surface. There's no visible Read more...

Fiction - Two Extracts from The Shintae - a Novel by Brian R Hill
	The Shintae is a new fantasy novel by Yorkshire writer Brian Hill. The novel is due to be published by Publish America sometime around the Christmas period but is currently available online at www.amazon.com , www.publishamerica.com , www.barnesandnoble.com and www.whsmith.com. The ISBN number is 1-4137-8322-4. For more information Read more...

Fiction - Zero and the Neighbours Part 1 - Demo version 0.1 By Joe Hakim
	Frank was one of the regulars. From the first day I started dealing poker on the tables, Frank was there. To look at, he was your typical moody old man - old in the Father Christmas sense - white hair, a huge white beard and a round gut that hung out of his shirt and over his belt. You could imagine him sat in a grotto in the bottom of Princes Quay with some mewling Read more...

Fiction - Just like Eddie by Bob Spence
	I don't know exactly when I got into it but there you are. Like most lads, I suppose it was the thought of being Bristol's answer to Elvis that was some kind of inspiration. Yes that was always there in the back of my mind, but the accent never sounded quite right to be fair. Anyway. The South Deans Village Youth Club was a right place back then and we used Read more...

Fiction - The Wall by Darren Sant
	Sometimes your best is just not enough. Panic stricken and panting I arrive. There it is, a fucking huge wall. An obstacle blocking my progress. A visible representation of all that I can't achieve. Nervously I look behind me. I lash out at it, kicking and punching but to no avail. It is rock solid. I jump but find it too high. I take a running jump Read more...

Fiction - Divine by Blair Ashworth
	"Mein Führer? Mein Führer?" The old man in the long grey coat was bent over the body slumped in the chair. "Give it a few more seconds, Henry," said the doctor. "Do you speak any German? It might lessen the shock." No, Henry didn't speak any German and he didn't much care about any shocks he might deliver. Behind the heavy oak chair, Read more...

Fiction - Scissors, Paper, Stone! By Bob Spence
	The Lord Nelson was your typical run-down seventies pub. The decor was in disarray, with half a mind to venerate the Royal Navy's biggest hero or to catch the eye of the potential clientele with the latest fashion. In this manner it achieved neither. Mickey was the prototype glass collector for every Read more...

Fiction - Drowning, Swimming By Joe Hakim
	Keith sat and stared at his wife, who was holding his daughter and staring at the 28" Philips Widescreen TV situated in the corner of his house, on his laminate floor, flanked at either side by his Sony sound system and his X-Box. He was sweating and his head was throbbing - the general effects of the weekend Read more...

Fiction - Any Instructions? By Denis Price
	It wasn't the first time he'd missed the bus. From the Mess to the monitoring hangar was only a quarter of a mile walk, something he relished during the central European summer as the airbase had been carved out of heavily wooded countryside teeming with wildlife. Read more...

Fiction - Second Chances by Nick Quantrill
	Available now, Second Chances is a crime fiction novella set in Hull that is already attracting praise from readers. Influenced by crime fiction heavyweights Ian Rankin and Hull's Robert Edric, Second Chances is set to be a great success. For a taster, see the extract reproduced below, only available Read more...

Fiction - Invasion By Bob Spence
	Moody just couldn't stop scratching. His shirt was far too stiff at the edge of the collar and the coarse material was driving him to distraction. You could also say that Moody was distracted anyway. He was waiting for a letter from his fiancee and there was none. Read more...

Fiction - The Death and Birth and Death of a Legend By Bob Spence
	Goober liked to be busy. Some people could handle doing nothing, not Goober Walton. Running the tidy but ancient gasoline concession suited. Suited well. It was orderly and everything clearly had its place. Some would say it looked almost military in its order and for that it Read more...

Fiction - Feller's in Cut By Maurice Fairfield
	Well that's her gone. You don't remember me do you? I'll have a pint while you're thinking about it. It's me Jack, Harry Fergus's son. Here for the funeral. Thought I'd see her get put under. Not sure why. It's always a laugh though, watching a parson doing a Read more...