Hang In There! | Flash Fiction

Illustration of a sloth hanging from a branch - "Hang In There!" flash fiction

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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Down the Hatch | Flash Fiction

Frowning man at desk caricature - "Down the Hatch" flash fiction

“Take a seat, Miles. Drink?”

“No, no thank you. Better not.”

“Oh, go on. It’s Friday, after all.”

Miles wipes his brow and sits down at his boss’s desk, while Mr Cooke pours two generous tots of whiskey.

“It’s been a tough week, Miles.”

Miles nods.

“Have you not found it a tough week?”

“Oh, yes sir. Very tough week. Yes. I nodded.”

“You what?”

“No, I… I agreed. Tough week.”

“Let’s talk about it.” Mr Cooke pushes a glass towards Miles. “Tell me about your week.”

“Well. I had… a few problems.”

“Oh, I know, I know. Exactly how much money did you lose the company, Miles?”

Miles swallows hard. “It was, um, a little over… seven, I think. Yes, seven million.”

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End is Nigh | Flash Fiction

Black hole illustration - "End is Nigh" flash fiction

“Winter’s setting in quick, isn’t it?” Mabel peered out of the window at the gloomy street. “I can’t believe it’s dark already.”

“I know. And it’s only 11.15.”

“You’re kidding! I was thinking it was closer to four in the afternoon. Didn’t I have lunch already?”

Aaron laughed. “Nope. Must be getting your days muddled.”

Mabel scratched her head. “Time does drag in this office. So how can it be dark at 11.15 in the morning?” Continue reading “End is Nigh | Flash Fiction”

Weekend Plans | Flash Fiction

Sandwich illustration - "Weekend Plans" Flash Fiction

There was a new girl in the office and everyone felt a bit weird about it.

The equilibrium of the workplace was askew as everyone tried to figure out what she was like and how she’d fit in. It wasn’t that they didn’t like her, but more that they didn’t know her; it simply wasn’t clear if she was going to be likeable.

The staff room was unusually quiet for a Friday lunchtime; the only noise that filled the air was the icky sound of chewing and chomping, slurping and munching. Everyone wanted to chat, like usual, but they didn’t know what to say. Continue reading “Weekend Plans | Flash Fiction”