Charles Paston grew up addicted to Uncle Paul's Bedtime Story on 5FM, and even had a story read on air by the growling Manchunian when he was still at school. Charles loves horror because it keeps his inner child alive. “No matter how bad things might be, horror can always be relied upon to make your everyday world seem like a good place… because at least you're not being chased by a banshee,” he says.

This is Charles' first story for Something Wicked. 

extract from The White Rock

The farm, if one could call it that, was surrounded by the black dumps from the coal mines. The days were punctuated by the rumble of distant dynamite explosive, and the crystal chandelier in the farmhouse’s lounge would tremble and sometimes shed a crystal tear. Most of these lost crystals were collected in a container, which was kept in one of the glass-fronted cupboards in the kitchen, in the expectation that my father would some day reattach them. I, however, thought that the open-cast mine would get the better of the chandelier some day and it would all come crashing down in spite of the years’ toll of lost weight.
  I had lived on this farm for seven years, since I was five, and can even remember some of the birthday presents I was given on that fifth birthday – two Mobil Oil overalls, one orange, the other blue, and a cowboy suit made by a seamstress aunt, complete with two plastic revolvers and a cowboy hat. I suppose the forces that be were saying that if being a Texas Ranger didn’t work out for me I could still be a petrol attendant.

---

  All material Copyright ©2006-2007 by Inkless Media and the respective authors. Inkless Media makes no representations or warranties with respect to the information contained herein and takes no responsibility for supplementing, updating, or correcting any such information.