My Short Stories
Below are excerpts from some of my stories. The full versions are available for downloading under each excerpt. You are welcome to post my work elsewhere, as long as it is fully attributed and you let me know! You can email me on: katiemhall@blueyonder.co.uk.
The Waiting Room
(c) Katie Hall, 2004
Rain patters purposefully on the window-pane glass. Elevator music mutedly sounds up and down the acoustic walls. A phone rings,
a baby wails, fish tank water bubbles. The nurses' heels 'click-click' on the stone floor, their whispered chatter echoes. Watch
hands tick, tick tick. Sweated palms drip. A voice calls...
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Family Closet
(c) Katie Hall, 2006
"Usually I like to write stories about magical far away places, with fairies and beautiful princesses and happy endings. Mrs
Jarman, my year seven English teacher at Greenoaks High School, told us we have to write a story about something that really happened
to us, for a special ‘autobiography’ project we are doing to learn about our new class in our new school. She said what we write
“has to be the truth, and from our hearts”.
This is a story about something that happened to me in the summer holidays, to do with my sister Lizzie. Lizzie is nineteen and she
goes to college – somewhere far away that she has to take the train for a really long time to get to. Sometimes I don’t like Lizzie
because she’s really pretty and clever and she always wins prizes for school work. Mum and Dad expect me to be just like that, but
I don’t want to be. I’d rather be out at the park with my best friend Amy, than spending all my time studying. But, most of the time,
I suppose Lizzie is a good sister. She never expects me to be like her, and she helps me when I’m stuck with my homework (except for
writing stories, which is the one thing I’m better than her at) and she lets me try on her make up. I wish I could look like her,
she’s got long, sleek, chestnut-coloured curly hair and sometimes people stop her in the street to tell her how lovely she looks.
Not like me - I’ve got this brown frizzy mound of hair that always looks like I’ve just got out of bed."
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The End
(c) Katie Hall, 1996
We landed somewhere in Western Europe. Probably France. We could not be certain, though, as the map scanner had been damaged in
battle. I remember thinking how all the crew seemed happy to be landing on Earth, and to be able to start living their own lives
again. My father, in particular, was glowing. I, myself, was indifferent. I knew that in Space we were safe from the war that was
going on, but I also knew that we could not stay in Space forever - especially as the ship was leaking fuel, and we had no
communication with Central Control.
When we first went up, a year ago, I was very homesick - I missed my friends, going out, even school - as well as all the mundane
things that people take for granted: fresh air, green fields, television. I often used to look down to remember, or to see if I could
spot Canaveral, or any rockets following us, and the beauty of our planet would amaze me each time. It was as if the view inspired a
better memory of Earth - all the bad things: the pollution, or the war, would cease to exist, as though the Earth were captured,
frozen in a time of peace and beauty. I suppose being away from something, we forget the bad things, and remember only the good;
especially if where we are at the time is not so wonderful itself. There was something in the view that inspired me greatly. Towards
the end, though, the view changed drastically. There was no longer a wonderful green area, depicting land, foundations, and life -
just blue, the sea, and grey. It was very grey. During the descent, although I was not looking out of the window, that image of
greyness struck me. It actually scared me, a lot, and I had to go and lie down for a while.
Download the full story here.