There’s Evil Afoot | Microfiction

Woman in bed with face covered by duvet

She can sense it as soon as she wakes up. Something has changed. There is evil afoot. But why?

She wraps her dressing gown around her, slips on her slippers and heads downstairs. It’s cold. Too cold. The front door is ajar. She peers out and spies a delivery man get into his truck and pull away.

Faint singing draws her into the kitchen – ‘White Christmas’, all out of tune. Her skin prickles with goosebumps.

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What A Novelty | Microfiction

Hands holding a wrapped gift

Gran pushes a parcel towards me. “I hope you like it. It’s exactly what you asked for.”

I tug at the bow and claw at the paper, barely daring to hope that she really did get me what I asked for.

“I suppose they must be all the rage,” she says. “I can’t quite keep up with all these trends. It all moves too fast. And I just hope it doesn’t go out of date before you get your use out of it.”

I open the box and I think my eyes are deceiving me.

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Hate Notes | Flash Fiction

Three yellow sticky notes and a blue marker - "Hate Notes" flash fiction

It’s a yellow sticky note today. Blue ink. Just the one line: “Your hair is shit and so are you.”

Bit lacklustre. Not witty, not clever, not even particularly brutal. Perhaps the culprit’s losing his knack. After all, this is sticky note number 398. They’re bound to run out of insults to throw at me eventually. They can’t all be fierce doozies like number 187 (“Mr. Blobby called. He wants his body back.”) or number 249 (“Do something for the greater good. Kill yourself.”). They’ll probably stop soon.

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He Looks Old | Creative Nonfiction

Photo of pink, wilting roses

Lit Up published my short creative nonfiction piece about losing my dad. It’s not the most cheerful thing I’ve ever written but we can’t write fun stories all the time, I guess!

His skin is too thin. Not papery — not that frail— but like the corners of a paperback that have been crumpled up and smoothed out one time too many. Each crease seems to be etched deeper than it was just twenty minutes ago. When the blood was still going round.

It’s my first foray into creative nonfiction and I’m really happy with how it turned out. Read it here.


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