The fortune teller doesn’t notice that her cigarette is slowly burning down to the filter, dropping ash onto her yellowed fingers and the table beneath them. Instead, she is mesmerised by the images in her crystal ball. Continue reading “Ash | Flash Fiction”
The view up here is just spectacular. I can see for miles. Keep an eye on my kingdom. Look out for trespassers and make a note of their appearance so that I can give them a good slap later. It’s perfect. Continue reading “Adrenaline Junkie | Microfiction”
Polly scans the menu with her brow furrowed.
“Are you ready to order, madam?” asks the server.
“Almost. I’m having a little trouble choosing,” she says with an apologetic smile.
“No problem. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you can pay extra for each additional trait on top of the 10 included in the base price.” Continue reading “Decisions | Microfiction”
It started when my boss asked for a strong black coffee. My mind catapulted to those cool Sunday mornings when I’d wake you up with a freshly made cup. The house would be tinged in the pale yellow of the early spring sun, and you’d smile at me, eyes still closed, as soon as the aroma of coffee roused you from sleep.
At lunch, it was a dress that did it. Dark blue and covered in little white spots, worn by the woman who stood in front of me in the queue at the supermarket. You had a dress just like it. At least, I think you did; it looked like something you would wear. But I suppose I never paid enough attention. Your wardrobe now is a hazy memory – a blur of blues and whites and greys and every now and again, when I insisted it suited you, a splash of red. Continue reading “I Remember | Flash Fiction”
Why won’t he text? Is he dead?
No, don’t be so stupid. He’ll have just forgotten.
That’s nice, isn’t it? Forgotten the love of his life. I must mean an awful lot to him if he can’t even be bothered to spend 3 seconds texting me.
Seriously, though, why would he forget me? Shouldn’t I be on his mind every second of every day like he is on mine? Continue reading “Is He Dead? | Flash Fiction”
‘Please don’t leave. I’m scared.’
Here we go again. Same routine as always. ‘End of visiting hours – I can’t stay.’
‘Take me with you, then. I don’t want to be here.’
‘I can’t do that. They’re helping you get better.’ Continue reading “Don’t Go | Microfiction”
‘I know he’s right for the job. I know he has all the experience. I know he’ll make this department the best it’s ever been. The trouble is, he knows it, too. He’s got an ego on him. If we give him this promotion, his big head’ll only get even more obnoxious.’ Continue reading “Ego | Flash Fiction”
She’s just… exquisite.
The way her hair wafts in the breeze and shimmers under the sun. The way she smiles and licks her lips when she catches her breath. The way she takes in the world with big, hazel eyes, as though every day is the most beautiful she’s ever seen.
Every single move she makes is extraordinary. And her tail! Continue reading “What Does He Have? | Microfiction”
“How’s the missus?”
Matt frowns. “What missus?”
His colleague frowns right back. “Alisha, isn’t it? How is she?”
“No idea what you’re on about, Marie.”
Marie snorts. “Oh no, you haven’t had a falling out have you?”
Matt maintains his look of puzzlement. “What you on about? I don’t have a girlfriend. Been single for months.” Continue reading “Gossips”
This is probably too many vegetables for one person to carry unaided. If I lose my grip on these handles I’ll be chasing cauliflowers and apples down the street and looking like a prize idiot. Good exercise, though, I guess. Ugh.
Why does there have to be a bakery three shops down from the greengrocers? Why do they have to leave their door wide open so that the street is filled with the scent of freshly baked pastries and melting chocolate? Why, why, why? Continue reading “Resistance is Futile”