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 Category:  General Fiction
  Posted: January 19, 2021      Views: 96

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 GIRAFFMANG 
IN PRINT 






 ABOUT
GIRAFFMANG 


Giraffmang is a Northern Irish writer who likes to blur the boundaries between genres.

He has achieved an honourable mention in the L.Ron Hubbard 'Writers of the Future' competition in 2015, 2019 and again in 2022. In 2016, he - more...

He is a top ranked author at the #5 position.

The Seal of Quality committee has rewarded him with 7 seals. He is also an active reviewer and is holding the #56 spot on the top ranked reviewer list.

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Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
brick by brick
"The Wall" by giraffmang




Cameron Wilkes stared at the wall. It stared right back. There was only ever going to be one winner. Raising his eyes, Cam tried to see the top of the offending thing. Impossible. A wry smile crossed his face when he remembered the words of a song from a long-ago school assembly – so high you can’t get over it, so low, you can’t get under it. Different subject matter but the problem remained the same.

He laid a calloused hand on the rough surface of the brick and pushed. Solid. It didn’t push back. It didn’t need to. Cam stamped on the hard-packed ground, sending up a miniscule flurry of dry dirt which settled back down as if it had never moved. He sighed.

Turning to his left, he took a tentative step forward, then another and another. His right hand never left the surface of the wall. Before he realised it, he was running. He kept running despite the discomfort in his right hand. He ran until his sides ached and his breathing grew deep. He skidded to a halt. Another temporary flurry of dry dirt. Blood pebbled on the fingertips of his right hand. Another sigh. The wall still went on.

Hands-on-hips, Cameron took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He let out the breath slow and steady. He opened his eyes.

He was back, at the computer. The blinking cursor before him as immovable as the wall. He pushed his chair away from the desk, spun around, stood, and exited the room.

As he turned out the light, he murmured, “Maybe tomorrow.”


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