Keith Butler

Joined January 2026

11 stories

Bio

I'm an 80-year old undergraduate at Falmouth University.

Yep, thats 80 not 18!

I'm in love with writing.

Flash Fiction, Short stories, Vignettes, Zines, Twines and Poetry.

Stories (11)

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Memories
He has had a good day, filled with memories. Not seaside sand castle, fish and chip, Punch and Judy memories but little ones.
By Keith Butlerabout 9 hours ago in Writers
When we're old and grey
He rises at dawn, tries to shuffle silently toward the kitchen kettle Two mugs World’s Greatest Dad Mrs. Always Right
By Keith Butler2 days ago in Poets
Minding Ps and Qs
My father worked at Vickers Armstrong. Cycled each day, Beech Avenue to South Marston. 3 miles, taking 18 minutes. Bottle green Raleigh, Sturmey Archer three speed,
By Keith Butler2 days ago in Poets
Railway Time
What’s the time, Mr. Wolf? 6:45 The factory hooter sounds (17 seconds) Heard for miles. Viscount Bolingbroke at Lydiard Millicent
By Keith Butler2 days ago in Poets
Confusion
Things were black and white when I was a boy. Choices were binary with overtones of good and bad. In my comic, Dan Dare or the Treens? On film, cowboys or Indians? World War Two, English or German? In my illustrated history of England, Saxons or Vikings?
By Keith Butler2 days ago in Writers
Floreat semper schola
He puts his best foot forward, undecided whether to grin or smile and opens the front door, letting in September sunshine to warm the Mansion polished tiles of a small railway town semi. He savours the last moments of summer freedom.
By Keith Butler2 days ago in Writers
I do love to be beside the seaside
Sandy towels in windbreaker camps Radios play subdued amps Children paddle up to the knee I do like being beside the sea
By Keith Butler2 days ago in Poets
Close Encounters of the Human Kind
There is a protocol to be observed on my lakeside walk. It governs the early morning greeting. Once it is firmly established that you regularly walk, then you graduate from a nod of acknowledgement to eventually saying “Good morning”. After some weeks, you may add a comment on the weather, but that is generally the limit of conversation.
By Keith Butler2 days ago in Writers
Close Encounters of the Human Kind
Early morning exercise over, resting on a park bench watching the sunrise change the light on the water. Thoughts tumbling through my mind, triggered by a bouquet, commemorating some ancestral anniversary, left by a brass plaque of dedication.
By Keith Butler2 days ago in Writers
Parklife
IF these walls could talk! If I was a fly on the wall! Well, I’m a talking, listening park bench. All ears, in a figurative sense.
By Keith Butler5 days ago in Writers
Close Encounters of the Human Kind
Boxing Day night, 1988, I teetered, zombie grey and matchstick thin, through the automatic doors of an almost deserted A&E. The receptionist looked up.
By Keith Butler5 days ago in Poets

Keith Butler

Bio

Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(11)

Filter by community

Memories

When we're old and grey

Minding Ps and Qs

Railway Time

Confusion

Floreat semper schola

I do love to be beside the seaside

Close Encounters of the Human Kind

Close Encounters of the Human Kind

Parklife

Close Encounters of the Human Kind

Stories (11)