Tag: Flash Fiction
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24 January: Six Sentence Sunday
Diffused ‘The light is a different colour here…’ she says as if speaking to herself. She’s standing on a balcony that’s just large enough for two pairs of feet, two chairs and an iron café table that’s slowly corroding in the Côte d’Azur air. They’re sharing the view from their hotel room, sharing a bit…
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17 October: Flash Fiction (332 words)
Fifteen Minutes on 25 December 1968 (332 words) It’s Christmas. The one when the White Album came out. It was a Christmas gift. I bought it myself. I mean, I like socks and handmade polyester button up jumpers, well in truth, no I don’t, which why I bought my own gift that year. Anyway, it’s…
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13 October: Flash Fiction
Camping The tent smells like vindaloo, Mum says. Dad’s rented a tent. We’re trying camping before he buys one. In case we hate it. He’s picked a spot located in nowhere, and my little sister is already whining that something’s bit her arm. And her chin. She only stepped out of the car 2-minutes ago.…
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3 October: Saints Not Saints
SAINTS NOT SAINTS (Flash Fiction: words: 531, reading time 3-minutes) INKED I.He’s one of those –a saint who’s not a saint.He stands on the top stepof a long flight of stairs,and watches people … some in haste,suits and ties, mothers with their harsh wordsfor children dragged along on short legs, homeless men insulatedin newspaper for…
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1 August: White Horse
White Horse And he doesn’t even like horses. Moreover, he hates that he’s called the horseman without a horse. He backs away from its rising height over him. This white horse rearing up, its voice of thunder is a shockwave, and the guys are sitting over there on a railing watching the whole scene play…
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27 June: Flash Fiction – Cherry Pickin’ Crows
Day 27: Imagine you are a character in a wildlife-themed adventure novel. Describe the perilous situation you find yourself in and how you escape. Cherry Pickin’ Crows There’s no writing yourself out of this one. Think. And don’t panic. It doesn’t help. Nor does shouting. Your pipes will go hoarse. I often talk to myself…
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9 June: for Unicorn Challenge (flash fiction)
The Rise of Crows She knew something was wrong in her head when they started perching on the windowsills, and on the roof and fence. Crows, thick as blackness on the overhead lines. One two three four … six twelve twenty on the clothesline. Like worry beads. Crows in the field crawing at the cows.…
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5 May: A Mouse’s Dream Diary
An Entry from a Mouse’s Dream Diary So it’s true. Mice do dream. Of drowning. A drowning dream. This is the season of water. Of fractious storms and troubled air. I run along the floor, pressing close to the skirting boards and wall. Avoiding wires and cords and shoes, baskets, books and magazines. Slipping under…
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21 May: 2Cellos & Playing at the Ritz
2Cellos and Playing at the Ritz Mum paid for my piano lessons, but I paid for them with fingernails clipped to the quick (a classmate said, Eeeow, you chew your fingernails. No, I said, I play the piano). I practised two hours a day. An hour before school, and an hour after. The piano was…
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16.02.22 dVerse Prosery
Fish Moon New Year’s Eve means cod. Always has. Alway will. So we head for the harbour. The whole family, and a few who aren’t, squeezing into the old Volvo, always bits of Pop’s job in the back. Trowels rough with mortar, buckets, crusty boots, white overalls. Pop’s a bricky. Bricklayer. Muremand. We race down…
It's Still Life 