Chris Ward - The Cold Pools

Marta sighed, biting her lip. Her parents and her brother were gone. Marta was just twenty-one, but St. Cannerwells Park was the closest she would ever get to seeing the countryside, and the euphoria of tube riding was the closest she would ever get to happiness.

She gripped the fence with both hands and gritted her teeth, trying not to cry. She was tough. She had seen and done things that no one her age should have to experience. She had adjusted to Mega Britain’s harshness, was accustomed to looking after herself, but just sometimes, life became too much to bear.

As the rain began to get heavier, tears pressed from her eyes and rolled lethargically down her cheeks.

Here ends Chapter One of The Tube Riders, which is now available from Amazon in both ebook and paperback formats.

A proud and noble Cornishman (and to a lesser extent British), Chris Ward ran off to live and work in Japan back in 2004. There he got married, got a decent job, and got a cat. He remains pure to his Cornish/British roots while enjoying the inspiration of living in a foreign country.

He is the author of 33 published stories and the novels The Tube Riders and The Man Who Built The World (forthcoming, Oct 2012)

“Like” Chris on Facebook at Chris Ward (fiction writer)

Follow on Twitter @ChrisWardWriter.

Read Chris’s blog —

http://amillionmilesfromanywhere.blogspot.jp/

Thanks for reading.

CW April 2012

This story is a work of fiction and is a product of the author’s imagination.

All resemblances to actual locations or to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

All content Copyright ©Chris Ward 2012

Cover image purchased from pond5.com 2012

Cover design Copyright ©Chris Ward 2012

The Tube Riders

The Man Who Built the World (due October 2012)

Ms Ito’s Bird & Other Stories

Benny’s Harem *

Forever My Baby *

Going Underground *

Joyriders *

Ms Ito’s Bird *

Saving the Day *

The Ageless *

The Cold Pools *

(* = included in the collection Ms Ito’s Bird & Other Stories )

Castles Made of Sand

Death Depends

Forks

The Tree