Andrey Writes

I moved my tongue, swallowed, and then silently mouthed a few of the odd syllables in the name. I blew air out, inflating my cheeks. I was about as ready as I would ever be.

“The True Name of a Stone” was just published by the fine folk at Every Day Fiction. It's a fantasy story about boring magic.

You can read it for free over here.

Picture this.

Friend A is from Poland. You met when he briefly studied in your university. He has blond hair, too long to be due to negligence, too short to be tied back.

“Friend Templates” was just published by the lovely people at Idle Ink. It is an odd little story about how two friends sometimes occupy the same space in your life. You can read it for free over here.

I sit in a bunker Alone When a nicotine cackle sounds in my ear: “Why so glum, boy?” he asks, and I sigh.

My first poem is out in Spectral Realms No. 13, edited by S.T. Joshi. I can best describe “The Song of Calamity Joe” as a mildly horrifying post-apocalyptic “Under the Sea”. I don't normally write poems so this is a rare treat.

You can grab a copy from over here.

This story just got reprinted as “Making Faces” in The Sirens Call eZine, where you can read it for free. Click here to grab the PDF.

A new piece of mine is also due out later this month. Watch this space.

She turned the music down so she could hear.

Cars rumbled out on the street. Somewhere, a truck was backing up with a slow and steady beep. In the distance, someone shouted. The bustle of the city was too much. It drowned things out. She couldn’t hear at all.


“She Went out for Milk One Morning and Only Came back the Previous Day”, my wordily-titled story about romance and disregard for physics, has found a new home at the excellent Tall Tale TV podcast. You can listen to it for free over here.

You’ve probably walked past me on the street many times. I go out for a stroll every day, and never get bored. I’ve been around for a while – and I’ve learned to get enjoyment out of the simplest things.

The second issue of The Weird and Whatnot is fresh off the metaphorical press. It contains “Making Faces at a Baby on the Bus”, a story about minding your own damn business.

You can get a digital copy over here. They made an excellent illustration for my story, which warmed the cockles of my heart right up.

Before I moved to England for university, I decided this was the perfect opportunity to reinvent myself. A new life. A new me.

So I took the step that should have been obvious to anyone who had spent their formative years in the 90s: I grew a goatee.

Coolness didn’t wash over me in a localized tidal wave, but I kept it for a few years and it was seen as my thing.


“Power juice!” I yell, getting the attention of everyone in the cafeteria.

I tip the last precious drops in my mouth, then scrunch up the can into a ball. I feel the power juice work its way down my stomach and into my veins.

Power juice!

“Power Juice!” just went up in Factor Four Magazine, Issue 5. It's a cautionary tale about what happens when you get hopped up on power juice.

You can read the story for free over here.

The editor at Mystery Tribune reached out to me to see if they can reprint “Stabby Knives” on their website, which I thought was awfully nice of them.

You can now read Stabby over here: