Cycling For Happiness

Cycling for Happiness

steve coel

In all fairness she'd expected the water to be pretty cold. 

After all, it was November and the summer hadn't been 
anything like she had hoped and she knew well enough that 
what her family really needed was to get some sun on their 
bones. 

But there you go, what you gonna do about it?

So, even being short of money and that, she'd taken them 

all away for the weekend for a treat, the break she 

reckoned would do them all a bit of good.

Houses were mostly boarded up it being out of season but 

she had managed to book them into a side street B and B. 

Thing is the rides on the front were all boarded up for 

the winter too. 

As a result the kids were generally pretty miserable, 

but they say that a change of scenery can put a lot of 

other things in the shade. 

So they say.

Like i've heard that if a car drives on to your foot 
adrenalin gives you the strength to pick the car up so 
as how you can move your foot to safety. 

So I've heard.

Still, no-one's really sure where she got the strength to go 

into the water with the kids like that.

steve coel

Tin Collector [ 2015 ]

An 11.59 Publication

Footnote:

A version / draft of this microflashfiction story appears in the 

April 2015 UK Edition of flashfloodjournal.

Walking Backwards

Walking Backwards.

steve coel 

Our hero figures that if he hangs around by the tube station long 

enough then it stands to rights that some pretty lady will 

eventually notice him, like what they see, stop and start chatting 

to him.

That's what our hero figures anyway.

For, [ if the truth be known ], our hero is genuinely trying to 

stop the rot of a miserable existence. 

Misinformed and simple is the unfortunate combination our hero 

inherits from a bully, he will never meet, who dated his 

unwilling, frightened and lonely mother briefly at an evening class.

However; after several saturdays standing around outside the tube 

station, mainly spent chewing his favourite gum and trying to read 

the free newspaper, our hero is now beginning to think that this 

particular idea might lack merit. 

Yes, he has been spoken to. 

Not by pretty ladies.

No. 

The PCSO's simply wondered if he was, well, simply lost.

The hostile newspaper vendor, on the other side of the entrance to 

the tube station, who keeps telling him to 'fuck off', doesn't 

really count in his overall estimation of things.

Now,our hero decides, [ even though the initial fire has most 

definitely not been his fault, he'll blame the vendors cigarette 

and not his ], it best if he goes the long way home. That way he 

can avoid all the fuss and give himself some time to come up with a 

new and even better way of meeting some pretty ladies.

Tin Collector [ 2015 ]

Arfordir Byw

steve coel

An 11.59 Publication, Birmingham

An 11.59 Publication

11.59

steve coel [ 2016]

An 11.59 Publication

An 11.59 Publication

Actually

by 

steve coel

An 11.59 Publication

doodle

'doodle'

by 

steve coel

deathbed.

right up to his dying moment.


hospital bed, fussy frightened nurses, bitter violent relatives, 

security keeping a close eye, just in case.


got the nickname he dies with straight after he left borstal for 

the last time. first time in jail he had already made his 

reputation, even though he was still a kid, just a boy. because 

reputations, if handled well, can last a life time and he wasn't 

lucky, he was focused. so he started out at the top and finished 

at the top.


like they say, never judge a cover. evil when he had to be, 

dangerous even. real villains always had time for him, respect 

given and received.


and now, 70 years on, dying, like we all do, but in his case, 

really badly.

pencil, paper, all he ever wanted.

in truth, all he ever needed.

An 11.59 Publication

dechrau newydd

dechrau newydd

by 

steve coel

'the streets didn't look very good, they seldom did.'

[ charles bukowski ]

through the one way mirror, she watches him. a single document 

that will kill not only the two of them straight away, but 

countless others who follow. she willed him not to sign. willed 

him to stop. turn, walk away, but being too frightened to cry out 

and warn him, she passed out and fell. so now; in small rooms 

where nightmares live, broken shapes pass each other and time is 

memory, love forgotten.

Arfordir Byw

steve coel

An 11.59 Publication, Birmingham

Empty Chair

Empty Chair - Steve Coel

  Photograph - steve coel

Late for work.

Again.

Flexi-time,

any time?

Busy stock taking

in the basement.

Power...

failure.

Wrong leaves.

Late train.

Two weeks.

Jury service.

Fire.

Drill.

False alarm.

Probably.

New cook,

in staff canteen.

Food

poisoning.

Strange noise

from the floor above.

Annual leave;

staying in caravan owned by that accounts guy in the office.

A friendly word

to the new audit intern.

Trendsetter

allegedly.

Multi tasking

presumably.

Busy

really busy.

Payback

Employee of the Month.

Footnote.

17 stories set in a 'fictional' work place.

Probably.

steve coel

Empty Chair by Steve Coel [ 2015 ] 

An 11.59 Publication

Bookmarks / Illustrations - An 11.59 Publication

Bookmarks / Illustrations

Tin Collector [ 2015 ] / The Wolf Within [ 2016 ]

Penarth

steve coel

Penarth

steve coel

Penarth

steve coel

Penarth

steve coel

Penarth

steve coel

Penarth

steve coel

Penarth

steve coel

Penarth

steve coel

Penarth

steve coel

Penarth 

steve coel

Penarth

steve coel

crib goch / porth / penarth...

large panel abstracts.

scream - gallery.

steve coel

A Walk

A Walk.

I watch six year olds smashing windows

just passing the time.

I watch a young woman wandering around

with a sleeping bag under her arm.

I watch curtains part at mid-day.

The Story.

An awful day.

I wasn't working and was looking for somewhere to live.

3 of us were searching.

The area I got was south of the river.

I didn't really have a clue what I was looking for. An empty 

house or flat with no squatters didn't seem likely. 

No fierce dogs for neighbours. 

As I said, no idea.

One of the first things I realised was I wasn't the only one 

looking. The girl with the sleeping bag, I saw her around for 

about half n' hour or so. So did people through parted 

curtains. They'd seen it all before I expect.

The weather was overcast, dull and the strong sense of 

deprivation and desperation leaked through into the cement 

gardens and wet streets.

I gave up looking for the day.

Instead I went to a pub to get dry and on the back of a betting 

slip I wrote A Walk.

I felt I could escape but the young girl couldn't.

And the six year olds?


A Walk - draft story from The Wolf Within - Steve Coel[ 2016 ]

An 11.59 Publication 

Illustration / Picture [ not finished ]

stryd fawr [ 2015 ]

steve coel

An 11.59 Publication, Birmingham