“Diane Simmons is an accomplished writer with an excellent eye for period detail and an acute ear for dialect, both on display in her latest, dazzling work, Bereft of Reason. Set at the tail end of the nineteenth century, the story concerns a horrific crime and explores the rippling consequences experienced by both family and the wider community. Simmons steps seamlessly between characters, never allowing the reader to settle in judgement. In so doing, she enlarges our capacity for empathy, even when faced with an abhorrent act. This is a well paced, page turner peopled with distinct characters I won’t soon forget.” Alison Woodhouse
“Bereft of Reason uses a fascinating ensemble cast structure to tell a compelling story about a crime in the 1890s. The multiple points of view allow Diane Simmons to work through a variety of male and female perspectives upon the central event, in a way that draws out implications and rewarding resonances for our contemporary world. Simmons fuses plot, action and dialogue so skilfully for character-led dramatic realism, as fans of her four previous novellas-in-flash will know. But in effortlessly wielding an ensemble cast structure to deliver a study of how society deals with crime, it feels like Simmons is expanding her writing – and the genre of historical flash fiction – in brand new ways. It’s wonderful to see.” Michael Loveday
ISBN: 978-1-0682701-4-7
38 pages
38 pages
£7.50
A sample flash may be enjoyed below.
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Buy Diane's new V. Press flash fiction novella, Bereft of Reason, plus a copy of her previous V. Press flash fiction novella, An Inheritance, for the special price of £15 including p&p for UK-only delivery.
* NB We are offering this bundle at this reduced price because these copies of An Inheritance have very small imperfections in the cover's gloss finish along the pamphlet fold.
N.B. We can no longer sell to the EU. Any other international customs/duty charges are the buyer's responsibility.
Left Waiting
2nd December, 1893
Ernest steps off the train and searches through the steam for his fiancée. He’s not seen her for over a week. Until he’d left Liverpool, he’d been excited about their reunion and pleased to be finally meeting her family. But now, his stomach’s churning. Maybe, her parents won’t take to him. Maybe, they’ll think she could do better for herself. She’s a pretty lass is Hannah and even his mother admits he’s no oil painting.
By the time the train’s departed and the last of the steam almost cleared, there’s still no sign of Hannah. It’s unlike her to be late – nurses are trained to be precise.
He leaves the platform and finds a seat outside, near to the entrance – the best place to keep an eye out. Although the weather’s mild for December, the wind’s chilly, so after a few minutes, he gets up and walks around, scanning the crowds, trying not to fret. What if she never comes? What if her dad’s made her think twice? Mr Cranshaw had seemed delighted enough when Ernest had written to ask for permission to marry Hannah, but it could be he had objected to not being called on in person. And perhaps, Hannah was wrong thinking her dad understood that work prevented Ernest travelling to Hewford.
He sits back down and lights his pipe. Possibly, Hannah herself has thought better of the marriage. But would she leave him waiting at the station in a strange town? Surely, she would have come to explain. At the very least, she would have written.
He looks up at the clock. Hannah’s now over thirty minutes late. It’s starting to rain. He takes his diary out of his pocket and studies her parents’ address. Asking someone for directions would be simple enough – Hannah had said she lived only a short walk from the station. Once he knocks on the door, there will be tears and hugs and explanations. All will be well. Finding her house would be the sensible thing to do.
But he doesn’t move, doesn’t quite dare. He stays on the bench, hoping.
