Andrew Anderson Archives - Black Hare Press

The Forest Never Forgets

July 3, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Andrew Anderson

Evie always walked alone in the twilight woods.

She would walk the trails, litter-picking and marvelling at the sounds of the evening. This was an ancient place, one she cared for, which in turn respected her wish for solitude.

Not tonight, though.

It had allowed someone else into her private domain—a man waited ahead in the clearing. She stepped forward to confront him when her foot caught an oak root.

It bought Evie enough time to see the silver flash of a knife in the half-light, and for the forest floor to open, swallowing the man into its soil.

Andrew Anderson

Andrew Anderson (he/him) is a writer of fiction from Bathgate, Scotland. His work has previously been published by National Flash Fiction Day Press, Sampson Low Ltd., Selcouth Station Press, The Drabble, Black Hare Press, Eerie River Publishing, Paragraph Planet, Steering 23 Publications and Blood Song Books.

Fresh Start

October 23, 2021/by S. Jade Path

by Andrew Anderson

The doorbell rang.

“So it begins,” muttered Ed, getting up to answer the door for his inaugural trick-or-treaters.

This was Ed’s first Halloween since moving to town, so he’d prepared a tray of rather lopsided homemade cakes, along with some assorted chocolates and lollies from the supermarket.

These kids were polite; not wishing to offend him, they grabbed a cake each and as much wrapped sugar as their buckets could carry. Ed knew they would wait until they were out of sight, then toss his cakes into the hedge.

That’s why he’d put the poison into the store-bought candy instead.

Andrew Anderson

Andrew Anderson (he/him) is a writer of fiction from Bathgate, Scotland. His work has previously been published by National Flash Fiction Day Press, Sampson Low Ltd., Selcouth Station Press, The Drabble, Black Hare Press, Eerie River Publishing, Paragraph Planet, Steering 23 Publications and Blood Song Books.

YEAR ONE

January 15, 2020/by Black Hare Press

YEAR THREE

January 13, 2020/by Black Hare Press

YEAR FOUR

January 12, 2020/by Black Hare Press

The Root of All Evil

October 18, 2019/by Andrew Anderson

by Andrew Anderson

All the village kids knew which houses were safe to approach.

Except for Cody—new to the area, he had not made friends yet, so did not know that there were some differences between his American and the village’s traditions on Hallowe’en.

They would have told him never to trick-or-treat the house with the turnip—instead of a pumpkin—on the doorstep; to beware of anyone with wrists strong enough and a knife sharp enough to carve a face into one.

And to accept the soul-cake in lieu of candy, instead of throwing it away.

Cody was never seen again.

Andrew Anderson

Andrew Anderson is a full-time civil servant from Bathgate, Scotland, writing fiction in his limited spare time. His work can be found on FlashFlood and Re:Written, and published in six Black Hare Press anthologies.

Twitter: @soorploom

Tag Archive for: Andrew Anderson

by Andrew Anderson

Evie always walked alone in the twilight woods.

She would walk the trails, litter-picking and marvelling at the sounds of the evening. This was an ancient place, one she cared for, which in turn respected her wish for solitude.

Not tonight, though.

It had allowed someone else into her private domain—a man waited ahead in the clearing. She stepped forward to confront him when her foot caught an oak root.

It bought Evie enough time to see the silver flash of a knife in the half-light, and for the forest floor to open, swallowing the man into its soil.

Andrew Anderson

by Andrew Anderson

The doorbell rang.

“So it begins,” muttered Ed, getting up to answer the door for his inaugural trick-or-treaters.

This was Ed’s first Halloween since moving to town, so he’d prepared a tray of rather lopsided homemade cakes, along with some assorted chocolates and lollies from the supermarket.

These kids were polite; not wishing to offend him, they grabbed a cake each and as much wrapped sugar as their buckets could carry. Ed knew they would wait until they were out of sight, then toss his cakes into the hedge.

That’s why he’d put the poison into the store-bought candy instead.

by Andrew Anderson

All the village kids knew which houses were safe to approach.

Except for Cody—new to the area, he had not made friends yet, so did not know that there were some differences between his American and the village’s traditions on Hallowe’en.

They would have told him never to trick-or-treat the house with the turnip—instead of a pumpkin—on the doorstep; to beware of anyone with wrists strong enough and a knife sharp enough to carve a face into one.

And to accept the soul-cake in lieu of candy, instead of throwing it away.

Cody was never seen again.