Charles Heath's writing blog

Here’s the thing... Every time I close my eyes, I see something different. I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox. But these dreams are nothing to laugh about. Once again there's a new installment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt. “So, how do you know your way around this place?” We walked slowly and carefully because there was a lot of rubbish in the alleyway, mostly from cracks in the walls where the concrete lining had broken away.  At times there were mounds of rubble, and we had to carefully walk over these. The ground was dusty and signs of footprints from past visitors, but it had been a long time, they had almost disappeared.  There was also a dank, musty aroma, just short of being nauseating. “The result of a misspent youth.  Not many people know there’s a passageway around the whole perimeter of the mall, with only four entry points from outside, and two inside.  This wa

For a story that was conceived during those long boring hours flying in a steel cocoon, striving to keep away the thoughts that the plane and everyone in it could just simply disappear as planes have in the past, it has come a long way. Whilst I have always had a fascination with what happened during the second world war, not the battles or fighting, but in the more obscure events that took place, I decided to pen my own little sidebar to what was a long and bitter war. And, so, it continues... Jackerby trusted no one.  He had been given orders by someone further up the ranks than Wallace and his people, someone who suspected that some or all of the Englishmen turned German turned Englishmen were traitors.  The only men he could trust fully were those who had come with him in the glider, a dozen at most.  It’s why he had just completed a secret briefing with his second in command who would take over the operation if anything happened to him. Not that it would, but he liked the idea of