Browse our psychological ebooks....

Our psychological short stories are those which delve into the inner workings and motivations of their protagonists. As psychological fiction, they tend to focus on characterisation and explore the “why” of an event or action, rather than simply “what” and “how”, in order to expose the factors that guide and drive life choices. Psychological short ebooks by CUT writers may feature inner monologues, as well as stream of consciousness techniques, in order to create a clearer picture of the characters' thoughts and desires.

Lullaby
From a gently insidious dystopian future, a woman looks back on her life and the true love she knows she missed out on. Finally, she remains undismayed, confident that the human span isn't everything... "Along a lane threaded through the night… threaded through space: so the colours and shapes had sung for over forty years. Of daylight inside darkness. Of reassurance. Of permanence beyond the transitory. Though its mysterious and variegated surface could not alter, its effect each day, was often subtly different. Kathleen had never tired of this painting, and it always narrowed the distance in years and personal space between her and the painter she’d once known. Several times they’d met when they were young, and so close in mind had she felt, that to her they’d stayed friends in a hidden parallel ever since – despite only an occasional letter to break the silence. Perhaps the song of these colours and forms welled from sentiment? Perhaps she’d buried her love in this painting… and its shifting planes, stood in for the man who would rarely have claimed more than partial responsibility for the work he signed? Moving away from the dark glass, her reflected face left the rim of the impulsive, breathing world beyond – a landscape frequently more promising than the intermittently anxious horizons outside. Passing an empty, unexpectant chair, she had only wished before nightfall, to check the latch. Now, she needed to open the door, to renew her faith in the real world. Along a lane threaded through the night… threaded through space: so the colours and shapes had sung for over forty years. Of daylight inside darkness. Of reassurance. Of permanence beyond the transitory. Though its mysterious and variegated surface could not alter, its effect each day, was often subtly different. Kathleen had never tired of this painting, and it always narrowed the distance in years and personal space between her and the painter she’d once known. Several times they’d met when they were young, and so close in mind had she felt, that to her they’d stayed friends in a hidden parallel ever since – despite only an occasional letter to break the silence. Perhaps the song of these colours and forms welled from sentiment? Perhaps she’d buried her love in this painting… and its shifting planes, stood in for the man who would rarely have claimed more than partial responsibility for the work he signed? Moving away from the dark glass, her reflected face left the rim of the impulsive, breathing world beyond – a landscape frequently more promising than the intermittently anxious horizons outside. Passing an empty, unexpectant chair, she had only wished before nightfall, to check the latch. Now, she needed to open the door, to renew her faith in the real world..."
Lullaby
Lawrence Freiesleben
£0.99 Added
From a gently insidious dystopian future, a woman looks back on her life and the true love she knows she missed out on. Finally, she remains undismayed, confident that the human span isn't everything... "Along a lane threaded through the night… threaded through space: so the colours and shapes had sung for over forty years. Of daylight inside darkness. Of reassurance. Of permanence beyond the transitory. Though its mysterious and variegated surface could not alter, its effect each day, was often subtly different. Kathleen had never tired of this painting, and it always narrowed the distance in years and personal space between her and the painter she’d once known. Several times they’d met when they were young, and so close in mind had she felt, that to her they’d stayed friends in a hidden parallel ever since – despite only an occasional letter to break the silence. Perhaps the song of these colours and forms welled from sentiment? Perhaps she’d buried her love in this painting… and its shifting planes, stood in for the man who would rarely have claimed more than partial responsibility for the work he signed? Moving away from the dark glass, her reflected face left the rim of the impulsive, breathing world beyond – a landscape frequently more promising than the intermittently anxious horizons outside. Passing an empty, unexpectant chair, she had only wished before nightfall, to check the latch. Now, she needed to open the door, to renew her faith in the real world. Along a lane threaded through the night… threaded through space: so the colours and shapes had sung for over forty years. Of daylight inside darkness. Of reassurance. Of permanence beyond the transitory. Though its mysterious and variegated surface could not alter, its effect each day, was often subtly different. Kathleen had never tired of this painting, and it always narrowed the distance in years and personal space between her and the painter she’d once known. Several times they’d met when they were young, and so close in mind had she felt, that to her they’d stayed friends in a hidden parallel ever since – despite only an occasional letter to break the silence. Perhaps the song of these colours and forms welled from sentiment? Perhaps she’d buried her love in this painting… and its shifting planes, stood in for the man who would rarely have claimed more than partial responsibility for the work he signed? Moving away from the dark glass, her reflected face left the rim of the impulsive, breathing world beyond – a landscape frequently more promising than the intermittently anxious horizons outside. Passing an empty, unexpectant chair, she had only wished before nightfall, to check the latch. Now, she needed to open the door, to renew her faith in the real world..."
Reaching You
A story about friendship, loss and seemingly supernatural forces that may or may not be the product of a disturbed mind. "I came to in my own bed, as the August dawn was breaking. I sat up slowly, and next to me on the camping mat on the floor, was my best mate, Shell. The pain behind my eyes made me shrink from the light as I tried to remember the night before. We’d been on the beach, just the two of us. No wait, her brother, Ben, had been there as well. He’d been in a bad way. He’d lost his place on the ‘Back to Work’ scheme for turning up late three days in a row. That meant his benefits would stop. We’d gone out to the local dunes at Druridge Bay, with cans of Magners to try to cheer him up. And, if I’m honest, to keep an eye on him. I stumbled out to the bathroom and heard my mum call, ‘Jo, I’m off to get the bus to Newcastle. Could you give Shell’s mum a call, she wants to know where Ben is. ‘Bye, love.’ The front door slammed shut. Ben. Where was he? I remembered his face twisted with gloom and booze as he’d told me and Shell to get lost and go home. He wanted to be on his own. At the time I’d thought, ‘Sod you.’ Me and Shell’d been rock solid with him and he’d brushed us away like we were nothing. Just flies on his face. Shell must’ve thought the same. ‘Come on, he’s one stupid shithead,’ she’d slurred. Then she linked her arm into mine and yanked me away towards our estate. ‘We’re not the problem here, he is.’ ‘Too bloody right,’ Ben yelled after us. ‘Too bloody right, you’ve caught on at last.’ The wind picked up as we walked away and drowned out the sound of his voice. I don’t know if he said anything else. We swigged the dregs of our cider as we swayed back home, tearful but sure we were right to leave him to stew in his own bad temper. After a quick pee, I guzzled tap water from my cupped hands and splashed some on my face. Then I zombied back to my bedroom and lay back down on the bed. A crow squawked outside my window and the screech split my head in two. I buried my face under a pillow but it made no difference, the pounding didn’t stop. I must have dozed off again because the next thing I knew it was midday. The hangover was still alive and vicious in my skull and part of me wondered if I was dying. Then the recollection of my mum’s words brought me out of myself. ‘Could you give Shell’s mum a call? She wants to know where Ben is...”
Reaching You
Ceinwen E. Cariad Haydon
£0.99 Added
A story about friendship, loss and seemingly supernatural forces that may or may not be the product of a disturbed mind. "I came to in my own bed, as the August dawn was breaking. I sat up slowly, and next to me on the camping mat on the floor, was my best mate, Shell. The pain behind my eyes made me shrink from the light as I tried to remember the night before. We’d been on the beach, just the two of us. No wait, her brother, Ben, had been there as well. He’d been in a bad way. He’d lost his place on the ‘Back to Work’ scheme for turning up late three days in a row. That meant his benefits would stop. We’d gone out to the local dunes at Druridge Bay, with cans of Magners to try to cheer him up. And, if I’m honest, to keep an eye on him. I stumbled out to the bathroom and heard my mum call, ‘Jo, I’m off to get the bus to Newcastle. Could you give Shell’s mum a call, she wants to know where Ben is. ‘Bye, love.’ The front door slammed shut. Ben. Where was he? I remembered his face twisted with gloom and booze as he’d told me and Shell to get lost and go home. He wanted to be on his own. At the time I’d thought, ‘Sod you.’ Me and Shell’d been rock solid with him and he’d brushed us away like we were nothing. Just flies on his face. Shell must’ve thought the same. ‘Come on, he’s one stupid shithead,’ she’d slurred. Then she linked her arm into mine and yanked me away towards our estate. ‘We’re not the problem here, he is.’ ‘Too bloody right,’ Ben yelled after us. ‘Too bloody right, you’ve caught on at last.’ The wind picked up as we walked away and drowned out the sound of his voice. I don’t know if he said anything else. We swigged the dregs of our cider as we swayed back home, tearful but sure we were right to leave him to stew in his own bad temper. After a quick pee, I guzzled tap water from my cupped hands and splashed some on my face. Then I zombied back to my bedroom and lay back down on the bed. A crow squawked outside my window and the screech split my head in two. I buried my face under a pillow but it made no difference, the pounding didn’t stop. I must have dozed off again because the next thing I knew it was midday. The hangover was still alive and vicious in my skull and part of me wondered if I was dying. Then the recollection of my mum’s words brought me out of myself. ‘Could you give Shell’s mum a call? She wants to know where Ben is...”
My Mind's Eye
Jo Reardon
£1.59 Added
Anna Maria is an opera singer who, following an accident, has forgotten how to sing. She starts to find her voice again in the most unlikely place and with the most unlikely people, in a place of sanctuary where the strangest character of all is a young boy whom only she can see..... "As I move through the wood, the pylons above my head tick like giant cicadas in the damp late August air. It’s almost dawn, still dark and everyone else is sleeping, apart from the devout few who get up every morning to pray or to do whatever it is they do to save their souls, our souls. We are the outsiders here, the ones who are sick, who came here for healing. I hope they pray for us, I know we need it. Since the accident I feel safer in the dark, before the daylight finds me again. There’s no one here, no sound but my own breath biting back at me, my soft footfalls echoing my thoughts, repeating the fears that haunt me now wherever I go..."
The Dollar
Tim Kelly
£0.99 Added
One dollar! It is an insult. I won’t pay, I tell you, I won’t...
The School Run
Gareth Hill
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I heard the sirens in the night. I said this to Annabel Grainger’s mum later that morning, as we both stood outside what remained of the primary school. She was looking across the car park at the smouldering rubble of the old red brick building, dismay etched upon her face as I struggled to remember her name.
Providence
Lara Bardsley
£0.99 Added
Providence is a collection of three short memoirs. The stories reveal a mother haunted by the loss of her family. Her child becomes a woman, shaped by the loss of her ancestors, deepened by the compassion for the suffering she witnessed and the resilience that grew from it. “The mind is a fickle bedfellow. It will seduce you one moment with the smoothest of concepts and when you are disarmed and wanting, it will deconstruct you. This world offers us the full smorgasbord — the sweetest fruits and the most bitter, the healing balms and the poisons. There are parts of us we can nourish and they will grow stronger. It was the searing pain of my mother’s passing when I was 21 that turned me irrevocably toward the pursuit of an inner richness, something that was constant and secure because it lay within me”.
How It Begins
Philip Mervyn
£0.99 Added
There you are, minding your own business, trying to get this jigsaw started and there's a knock at the door. Who is this strange woman? Actually, she does look a little familiar, and she seems to know who you are. But you have to be careful. Don't trust anyone. Even the inanimate objects are out to get you...
Like a Virgin
Al McClimens
£0.99 Added
The therapist has been looking at some of the stuff you’ve written and you sit there in the classroom reading his report. You’re an out-patient now - have been for a while. You turn up to clinics, appointments, take tests, report on medication, attend review meetings, get measured for devices and aids, talk to physios and psychologists.... it’s a kind of progress.
Fly!
Csilla Toldy
£1.29 Added
....Somewhat detached, he revisited the events of the last twenty-four hours: his release from the Maze at noon the previous day, the heavy prison gates closing behind him. The empty street, the soulless crystalline rain. His journey on the bus to Belfast, his sitting at the steamed up window, wondering where to go. He walked the pubs all night, getting cosy for a few drinks, then feeling the urge to change and move on.
Jackdaws
C H Widestroke
£0.99 Added
Will felt like he was getting closer to understanding what they meant, in a way. He would sit on the grass and look up, watching, listening and letting their truth come to him. If he forced it too much, it would not be the truth. That mattered.
Between the Pages
Roland Glover
£1.29 Added
From between the pages of the very last book I picked up, fell a sheet of paper. Stained manila with ragged edge where it had been ripped from a journal. The network of creases, suggestive of the roads and railways on a map, showed that once torn from its source it had been crumpled and perhaps thrown across the room.
Fight or Flight
Roland Glover
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A woman finds escape from her tortured life in a mysterious flight of fancy.
The Man Who Met Himself
Roland Glover
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A man has an encounter with his doppleganger and sees himself in a different light. Their meeting has a knock on effect for not only him but his wife too. His wife begins to warm to this stranger to devestating effect.
The Proximity of Strangers
Lisa Samson
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A young man follows a young woman out of a tube station.
The Real Me
F. Linday
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This is a new adult story about a student called Nicky. She juggles caring responsibility challenges alongside attempting to have a social life.
Another Broken Heart
Leyla Leyton
£1.29 Added
Jeff had betrayed Sandra in the worst possible way and now he wants to come back!
The Power of Love
Leyla Leyton
£2.49 Added
As Carol looked back on that terrible time she soon discovered that she was not alone.
Dog Day
Suzanne Conboy-Hill
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'Lazy, idle, unreconstructed encumbrance,' she remarked to the air. 'Useless git!' she added with satisfaction. Alice was peering down from the upstairs window at her sagging husband in cocooned in his sagging lounger out on the patio
Fete Accomplice?
Suzanne Conboy-Hill
£0.99 Added
‘Stop it right now, you dizzy tart!’ Marissa Nalletamby is giving herself a telling-off in front of the mirror. ‘He’s married, you’re married, and you barely know him.’
Waiting for the Agent
Barbara Hawthorne
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This story is about a pensioner waiting for the Estate Agent to show him around the house he was born in.
Leaving The Garden
Suzanne Bowen
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Maureen the Assistant Librarian has spent a night in her suburban garden, having drunk too much champagne at a high class midsummer party in the Holland Park garden of her work colleague Adrian, whose style, wealth and exalted friends raise the question of why he is still working in the Library. As the perfect midsummer night passes into dawn and Maureen thinks about the events of that party, her solitary existence seems to be coming to a crisis – but someone - or something – has followed her home and is in the garden with her.
The Justice Box
Suzanne Conboy-Hill
£0.99 Added
‘Jesus loves her, Jesus loves her, Jesus loves the murdering bitch.’ Emmy chuckles to herself in that private way only people whose heads are somewhere else can do. She hunches up on the bed and grabs her knees; pulling them up to her chin, and hugging them like babies. ‘Pretty boys,’ she says; and bites into her knee cap.
Stress
Anne Colledge
£1.29 Added
A bad day at work gets out of hand.
Jill-in-the-Box
Albert Woods
£0.99 Added
Jeremy wonders if he's going mad. Everybody else can see reporter Jill Gibbs on the TV. Why can't he?
Into Space
Suzanne Bowen
£1.29 Added
Big JUNE lives alone in her childhood home, a large house in suburban South London. She has been there since 1954 and no-one has re-decorated since 1973. Anyone noticing June thinks she’s odd; people keep their distance. One day, a stranger - a young woman called Lottie - walks in uninvited and starts to ask questions. Over the months, June and the house seem to reveal their secrets. June loves Space and especially, the star of the TV Sci-fi programme to which she is addicted. Lottie helps June to transform her life, build her telescope and finally prepares her to leave to pursue her dream. But where has Lottie gone?
Stop, Look and Listen
Akeem Balogun
£1.29 Added
Stop, Look and Listen is a short collection of flash fiction pieces. It features Escape, a story about a son who wants to keep his parents together for the sake of his father, Mannequin, a creepy tale about a husband and his wife's disappearance, as well as the titular story Stop, Look and Listen, an exploration of life through instructions. The collection also includes other pieces by Akeem Balogun that have appeared in various publications throughout his writing career. Stop, Look and Listen is an enjoyable read that will appeal to all fans of the short story form as well as to any reader who is entertained by writing that is precise, fun and thought-provoking.
Wounds
Tania Allman
£1.59 Added
Like mother like daughter. Anne's life spirals out of control when her counselling clients begin to evoke her own suppressed issues and experiences.
The First Cut
Helen Pizzey
£1.29 Added
A duologue between adolescent twins: same life but very different experiences.
The Turkey Cock
Brindley Hallam Dennis
£0.99 Added
This story is about proportionality: The taxi rank was tucked against the wall downhill from the station......
View By Appointment
Christian Green
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A visit from a stranger forces a lonely woman to confront the debris of her life.
Judith
Jayne Woodhouse
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Judith was only ever Steven’s friend, although she tried hard to pretend she was mine as well. Perhaps that was the flaw which led to what came later. Or perhaps I’m just trying to find an excuse for something I still cannot explain. Because, how else can I ever come to terms with what happened that night?
Phyll and Fog
Michael Thomas
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This school story quickly darkens into a battle of wills with disastrous consequences, all played out in the context of the entire planet. Voices interchange: narrator, first-person protagonist and a chillingly unidentifiable presence.
Social Surfing
Gail Aldwin
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A Polish mother tries to make friends with other parents by hosting a dinner party. In spite of her planning, the evening does not go as Vik expects.
A Final Resolution
Helen Stockton
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Sarah, haunted by an episode with a man in a tower block lift, had an unusual New Year's resolution to make. She needed to set things right. She couldn't risk loosing everything she'd worked so hard to achieve and she could only see one way forward...
The DNA of Bats
Jane Rogers
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The closeness between her brilliant, beautiful mother and her talented, intelligent daughter re-enforces a woman's sense of her own inferiority. Add to this her lifelong horror of bats, and things go from bad to worse.
Some Mothers
Derek Neale
£1.59 Added
A mother, recovering on a psychiatric respite ward, recalls her own mother and her 'other mother', and sees vivid glimpses of hope in the past and present
 
 

 

 

   

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