There’s nowt but thistles that live on the empty plot at the end of the street. It was home to a house once upon a time, but that place burned to the ground many moons ago. All that remains is a labyrinth of thistles, the only plants vicious and spiky and determined enough to sprout from the scorched ground.
Nobody knows who started the fire, but there’s always been murmurings and pointed fingers. Some say it was a cigarette, still smouldering, left carelessly on the arm of a chair. Others say it was a dodgy extension cable or a dodgy toaster or a dodgy electric heater. More still say it was something much more sinister.
Continue reading “Thistles | Flash Fiction”
It was that fox again—the one with the limp. It stared in through the patio doors, swaying a little from side to side as if on the verge of collapse, brown stains running from eyes to muzzle like tears. I wanted to let it into the warmth, or at the very east to throw it some scraps from the kitchen. But I couldn’t. That’s how they got you, if the news stories were to be believed. And I believed them.
I pictured the poor thing limping across field after field, squirming through hedgerow after hedgerow, desperately searching for food despite its twisted limb. It had left its babies back home in its den, small and pink and blind and growing skinnier by the hour, bleating forlornly for milk. Milk that would only flow if their mother could eat. And she hadn’t eaten for days. I could see it in her eyes while she stood there gazing at me through the patio doors, a silent communication from one mother to another.
Continue reading “Feeding The Kids | Flash Fiction”
“8-day walk weeks. Living kibble portions for all. Nationalisation of every squirrel-infested woodland in the UK.
“Free obedience classes for all ages – pups to seniors. Hundreds of thousands of new, affordable kennels.
Continue reading “Vote Dog | Microfiction”
I wrote a song parody of ‘TiK ToK’ by Ke$ha for a fab Medium publication called Song Done Wrong. It made me snigger and I’m pretty proud of it, but I do apologise for inflicting this obnoxious earworm upon your lugholes. It takes me back to my uni days… oh, the hangovers.
Wake up in the morning feeling like I’m dizzy
Grab my dog I’m out the door ‘cos she needs to get busy
Before I leave, grab my coat and a big woolly hat
‘Cos when I peer out the door I know I’ll freeze in that
I’m talking icicles from my nose, nose
Wearing five layers of clothes, clothes
Cheeks got a bright red glow, glow
Skip-hopping while dog tugs on her lead, lead
Rollin’ up at the park scene
Tryin’ to get a little bit cosy
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Photo by Tucker Good on Unsplash
The search for life on Mars is finally over! We did it! We found it! Can you believe it?
All that time, all that money, all that high-tech equipment has finally paid off. And it’s such a big deal for me on a personal level. Finally, I know the truth… Continue reading “There Is Life On Mars | Microfiction”
Round and round goes the hamster in his wheel, sending up giggles from the human faces which peer through the bars of his cage.
“He just keeps going, doesn’t he?”
“Why does he run for so long, Mummy?”
“I suppose he’s just having sooo much fun!”
The hamster lets out an indignant squeak. Fun? Ha! As if, he thinks. His heart hums and his lungs burn with exertion. But look… it might just all be worth it… Continue reading “Silly Hammy | Microfiction”
Hang In There! says the poster, and just beneath this peppy instruction is a photograph of a sloth hanging languidly from a branch. Its little black eyes gaze out, curious, while a superior half-smile on its mouth shows its true colours. “Oh yeah, you hang in there,” that smug mouth seems to say. “I’ll even provide the noose.”
Gordon wants to punch that fucking sloth right between its beady eyes.
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Hey, how do you do?
Do you see all this poo
that’s smeared in my lovely hair?
It’s a statement, you see,
for the silly lady
who is in charge of my care. Continue reading “Eau de Poo (A Poem by My Dog) | Microfiction”