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Martyn Winters Posts

Where there’s muck. By Martyn WintersA middle aged man in tight jeans talks to an alien

Where there’s muck. By Martyn Winters

Published by MartynWinters on March 14, 2024

A free short story for you to read.

It has been said by wiser people than me there is nothing sadder than an old dog wearing young clothes. That may be true, but how many of them have met a sapient alien plant and solved global warming because of a pair of tight Levis? None right?

It happened early one evening as I was getting ready for a night of beer and voddy shots at McBangs, the second-best night spot in Agadir. The best club is Fountaine’s, but you must be under forty-five to get in, or filthy rich, and I was quack-quack-oops on both those counts.

Anyway, I’d just pulled on my kecks and I heard a snigger coming from near the balcony curtains, which I’d thrown wide to let the sea air waft in because it gave me that heady, by-the-sea ambience which brought me to Agadir. In fact, I’d chosen my hotel, the Biltong Founty, because of its proximity to the ocean. That, and the stellar Trip Advisor reviews, one of which describes the Founty as, “A remarkable hotel with a handcrafted entrance fountain evoking the Portuguese origin of the name, and lobby floors in the Amazigh style, representing the commitment to cultural authenticity.”

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Detective Inspector Camden Ironbell of the Gnome Office

Detective Inspector Camden Ironbell of the Gnome Office

Published by MartynWinters on February 22, 2024

I’m studying Science Fiction and Fantasy at Cardiff University. This week we were invited to write a short piece, or opening chapter to a longer piece in the style of another writer. I chose to use characters Tom Holt might employ and set it in the world created by Susanna Clarke in her wonderful novel, “Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell”. It is set about half a century after the events of Clarke’s novel in 1870. England is still at war with France and the denizens of the netherworld have returned to London.

Detective Inspector Camden Ironbell of the Gnome Office

By Martyn Winters

In the normal course of events in 1870, a person of gentle upbringing would not expect to cross paths with a member of His Majesty’s Constabulary while they are conducting an investigation. As rare as such a circumstance might be, it pales somewhat vividly compared to the chances of meeting a constable, or an officer, whose countenance is not that of a solid, square jawed son of London’s East End, but the enlarged nose and unwieldy ears of a gnome. Yet such was the occasion on that strange night of August the 8th when Captain Johannes Millwright emerged from his club on the Mall. Still robed in his dress reds despite receiving his discharge papers that very evening, Millwright cut a fashionable figure as he strode nonchalantly down the steps to pavement level, only to be greeted by shouts of “Stop thief,” as two diminutive figures chased a ragged beggar of a man across the road.

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Post-apocalyptic Glamping by Martyn R Winters

Published by MartynWinters on October 23, 2023
A tent and a glam chandelier with a comfy sofa set in an apocalyptic scene

“Hey groovlings,” Dad said. He was fond of ancient idiomatic terms. I found it cringeable.

He was sat in the front offside seat of our Nisbang Misogynist, which is one of those excessively large vehicles beloved of trades, especially the hyper-masculine ones like Kitchen Cinching. Dad was one of those, you could tell by the big yellow toolbelt he always wore. I’m a librarian-spandicle. Don’t ask, just don’t visit a library in spandex. He says its chick-work, which is okay because I haven’t decided on my gender yet. Maybe I won’t, just to confuse him. He laughs like it’s the funniest joke, which irritates me more than it should. He’s about as funny as a full nappy.

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“I guess we’re heroes” by Graham Fluster – book review.Cover of I Guess We're Heroes

“I guess we’re heroes” by Graham Fluster – book review.

Published by MartynWinters on August 16, 2023

The blurb says: “A team of scientists discover intelligent alien life, and start a dangerous race to capitalize on the opportunity…” Five centuries later… “The mercenaries of Specialized Support Contractors were only looking for small jobs befitting their fledgling company, but soon find themselves forced into the limelight when their employers place an ancient alien weapon in their possession.”

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New short story: This guest of summer.

New short story: This guest of summer.

Published by MartynWinters on July 27, 2023

I was just six years old when I discovered my fondness for evisceration. I was sitting in the garden of a gamekeeper’s lodge on the grounds of Blackstone Manor my father rented for the summer: an old cottage with overgrown ivy covering much of its fascia. A floral arch rose over the front door porch, which itself was a paean to a glory long lost to antiquity: large, solid heavy wood, probably oak, with brass furniture, and gloss black paint.

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NEW FLASH FICTION: The inner grace of the pawn sacrifice
FLASH FICTION: Critical Signal Strength

FLASH FICTION: Critical Signal Strength

Published by MartynWinters on June 26, 2023
Woman pilot freed from the control of the AI

Space is at a premium. At least it is when you are the pilot of a packet-ship.

I am iDen 20786433717/190. One-ninety to you, pilot first-class. It is my job to convey the orders of The Agreement to extra-solar installations on the tether end of the information relay artery. We can only transmit detailed instructions the old-fashioned way. That’s by carrying half a tonne of code-embedded crystal through the redlines in a physical ship.

It is all about bandwidth. Out here, on the periphery, bandwidth is narrow. Why not build more routers? Easy. They wouldn’t work. Bandwidth is inversely proportional to the distance from the hub in redline-space.

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