Michael R. Brush

‘Wood for the Fire’ by Guest Author Michael R. Brush

Monday, December 2nd, 2013
Guest Author Michael R. Brush

Guest Author Michael R. Brush

We occupied a small hunting lodge on the outskirts of the estate. Our mutual friend had allowed us the liberty to use this place for some time of quiet to get over the hectic term. We were, and are, quiet chaps so we relished the retreat to the country despite that, in deep winter, there was no game to be hunted and away from the house there was a lack of festive camaraderie.

Termed ‘Scrooges’ from the recent story by Dickens we were at home and content. You could say that we were happy there. We would drink our sherry and bitters, smoke our pipes and relax in our respective books. The one drawback from being so far away from the main house was that the service was erratic. We were sympathetic even when we ran short of comestibles, like game pie, or the bare necessities like bitters or sherry and one night, not too far off Christmas Eve, inside we ran short of wood for the fire. (more…)

‘Great Legs’ by Guest Author Michael R. Brush

Saturday, September 1st, 2012
Guest Author Michael R. Brush

Guest Author Michael R. Brush

The oak monstrosity seemed to fill the room. Mycroft and I looked upon it with respect as we recalled the day we chose it. In those days, Mycroft still had his youthful physique, before he had to turn some of his attention to his family’s estates and the other, darker side of his business. “I say, Hungerton, it’s got great legs!” Mycroft enthused to me quietly in the back of the furniture shop.

Indeed it had. The solid bulk of the honest table was only redeemed aesthetically by its pins, not that we were purchasing it for them. We were looking for a sturdy table and damn the rest of it. The shop keeper came upon us suddenly after that remark, only to be surprised when he found two gentlemen in his domain. He set about haggling immediately only to find, to his delight, that Mycroft bid him higher for the sake of two things – delivery and discretion; few would ever know of its existence within the bowels of the Diogenes Club. (more…)