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    Beaches: Short Story
    Beaches: Short Story
    Beaches: Short Story
    Ebook31 pages25 minutes

    Beaches: Short Story

    By James Loscombe

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    About this ebook

    The past is the present is the past

    Jacob survived the virus that wiped out most of humanity, but he can't leave the past where it belongs. Tormented by nightmares, the only option seems to be returning to the source of it all and facing up to what he has done. But the past is complicated and he soon realises that putting it behind him won't be as straight forward as he thought. If he can't come to terms with what he has done and what he must do, his sanity and the lives of the people he loves may be forfeit.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJames Loscombe
    Release dateOct 4, 2018
    ISBN9781386775812
    Beaches: Short Story
    Author

    James Loscombe

    James Loscombe has been publishing under various pen names for the last five years. He lives in England with his wife Tamzin and their sons Jude and Oscar.

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      Book preview

      Beaches - James Loscombe

      If you would like to read more by James then check out http://jloscombe.com/books/ where you will find a complete list of releases.

      If you would like to be the first to know when new titles are available (and receive copies of all James’ short stories for free, then click here http://jloscombe.com/subscribe/ to register.

      The gulls circled overhead, screeching a warning to one another that he was there. In the distance Jacob could hear the waves rushing the beach. The ground fell away in a long slope that wore on his tired legs. There were cars parked along the road, but he had learned the trick of not looking inside them; even the corpses left in the open weren’t all picked clean yet, anyone that had been unfortunate enough to die in a car would be worse still.

      At the bottom of the hill the road curved left. If he followed it he would end up at Macy’s Parlour, next to The Old Western Hotel. Macy’s had served the best pizza he’d ever tasted, in summer season there was apt to be a queue right around the block. He wondered if people had died waiting, but didn’t turn the corner to find out.

      He crossed the road and turned right. There was a rough stone wall and when he looked over it he could see dark water moving quickly over jagged rocks. He kept walking, running his hand over the stones. How long had it been since he’d last visited Furness? Two years? Maybe three? It seemed like a life time ago, but nothing had really changed. There was no dirt, no degradation, the place was a time capsule.

      The road led to a carpark where there were plenty more cars for him to ignore. Nothing he wanted to see in any of them. Not even in his darkest hour had he been tempted to open one of those coffins and root around. On the other side of the carpark there was an old public building. One corner had been given over to toilets, the other to coin operated showers. Nestled

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