2013: “Mr Button” - Short Story
I remember when I was younger, my father told me a story he had been told himself. Mr Button was, well, odd. He was entirely baby blue and stood only one and a half centimetres tall with skinny limbs crafted from threads of navy blue cotton. It’s not known how he came about, Dad never told me. He just rocked up in Mold on one of those rare, sunny Welsh afternoons. He carried a small hat in one hand, and a little red suitcase in the other, emblazoned with a little spool and his name in gold type. He hopped off the bus between the legs of a grumpy looking teenager and headed directly to the town, pleased with fact his journey cost him nothing (being of such little height had its perks).