Author

Robert Bagnall

Robert Bagnall is an English writer and sometime management consultant and property developer. He is currently in the process of moving from a doubly landlocked county to the coast to renovate a rambling Victorian house. He has had short sci-fi and crime fiction irregularly published over the last twenty years, a list of which together with his science fiction musings can be found at meschera.blogspot.co.uk. Right now he is undergoing the joyless task of hawking his (brilliant) sci-fi novel 2084 around to anybody who'll give him the time of day....

http://meschera.blogspot.co.uk/

Hell is...

Third on the left along the somber corridor. Overhead, lights cast a flat, cold, glow. One buzzed, as if holding a dying wasp. As I went to open the door, the notion struck that I couldn't recall which floor I was on, nor why I was certain this was the right room. I paused,…

School Project

My granddaughter is a pupil here. That's why I've agreed to help. They've put me in Miss Nerhu's office. It looks over the ribbon of parched grass that rings the school, to the embankment of buddleia and sycamore growing wild beyond. There's a hint of sandalwood and I wonder…

Three Wishes

"And this is the room in which the Cantor Gregory invented the hat...." Elizabeth had suspected for most of the morning that their tour guide was making it up as she went along. This latest one-step-too-far factoid seemed to confirm it. She glanced around the rest of the tour…

Audit's Abacus

After Audit had integrated itself with the systems on board Saikat Bhosle's ship, its artificial eyes dilating and constricting, its head tilting as though listening intently, it asked flatly, "Would you like me to assess the risk of this ship taking off?" "Are you being funny?"…

They Have Been at a Great Feast of Languages, and Stol'n the Scraps

Stop. I know you think this is a fiction. But this isn't. I have written a story. But if you are reading these words, these very words, then that isn't what you have in front of you. I know I'm not making myself clear. Let me explain. If I can. I'm not even sure where to start.…

They Have Been at a Great Feast of Languages, and Stol'n the Scraps

Stop. I know you think this is a fiction. But this isn't. I have written a story. But if you are reading these words, these very words, then that isn't what you have in front of you. I know I'm not making myself clear. Let me explain. If I can. I'm not even sure where to start.…

My Avatar Has An Avatar

***Editor's Warning: racist slang*** I have an avatar. I am forty-three years old. I am balding and thickening around the middle. I have a mediocre job with a mediocre company which has outward ambitions to be in the top twenty in their sector in five years, but inwardly merely…