Questions for Kids | Flash Fiction

“…so the pig offered a piece of his meat for the bloke to use as a muscle in his leg. That’s why they call it a hamstring.”

“Cool! Thanks, Dad.”

Kids are inquisitive. Too inquisitive, for Jez’s liking. They ask a lot of questions to which nobody really knows the answers, but if you try to fob them off with an “I don’t know, pet,” they’ll witter on and on and on until you’re about ready to lose your mind.

Jez came up with a solution to this problem. Just make shit up. Easy…

CONTINUE READING ON MEDIUM >

Apples and Oranges | Flash Fiction

“Ally is quieter than Annie, wouldn’t you say? Annie’s got a touch more confidence. She’s a smidge taller, too. Other than that, they’re exactly the same.”

Ally and Annie’s mother glowered at her friend. “They’re completely different. It’s like comparing apples and oranges. They’re each totally unique.”

Her friend laughed. “They’re identical twins.”

“And they have some similarities, of course. But they’re each unique in their own ways. I don’t want my daughters’ identities to be dismissed as one and the same.”

“Fair enough. Sorry I spoke.”

Ally and Annie pulled their ears away from the wall of the next room.

“That bitch,” Annie said.

Ally nodded. “Yeah. Absolute bitch.”

“We’re identical twins. Of course we’re identical in every way. How could she say we’re not?”

Ally’s eyebrows twitched. “Yeah. How could she?”

“And I’m not taller than you. We’re exactly the same height. You just have a habit of slouching. Stand up straight, raise your shoulders.”

Ally obeyed.

“I’m sick of that old cow always insisting we’re different. Being twins is our thing. It’s our novelty factor. It’s our… our…”

“Hook.”

“Right, exactly. But we’ll put a stop to it. Won’t we?”

Ally mimicked her sister’s vicious smile and crossed her fingers behind her back .“We’ll put a stop to it…”

CONTINUE READING ON MEDIUM >

Future Fitness | Flash Fiction

“Ten quid’s a real bargain for a treadmill. There something wrong with it?”

“We just want rid of it really — not bothered about the money. I mean, it’s a bit temperamental, but it works on the whole.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes the speed setting gets stuck. You have to have someone switch it off at the plug, or just jump off it. No big deal. You could probably get someone to have a look at it, get it fixed.”

“Right. I dunno, mate.”

“Go on. You drove all this way to look at it. Tell you what, I’ll let it go for a fiver. How about it?”

At home he donned his tracksuit bottoms and his trainers and he psyched himself up for his January journey to fitness.

He began with a stroll, speed set to minimum, and it wasn’t long until his heart was pounding and sweat was beading on his forehead.

“Power through,” he told himself, and he mashed at the control pad to increase the speed.

He made it up to a jog. His throat grew dry and his legs burned. He thought about the ice cold beers in his fridge and the pizza place menu on the kitchen counter.

“Power through,” he told himself, and he hiked up the speed once more, just to prove to himself that he could do it.

He hadn’t run anywhere in years. He couldn’t even remember the last time his legs had moved so fast. His heart hammered and his lungs wheezed and the sweat began to pour from every inch of his skin.

“Can’t power through. Don’t want a heart attack,” he told himself, as his tacky fingers pressed desperately at the control pad.

Nothing happened. The speed wouldn’t drop…

CONTINUE READING ON MEDIUM >

Here Comes Dreary January | Flash Fiction

“Oh, shit. Dreary January is here. Prepare yourselves for misery.”

“Hi,” says January, face blank, dead behind the eyes.

“Hello, mate!” says February. “How are you doing?”

“Well, I’m skint. I’ve got nothing to look forward to. I’m freezing fucking cold and I hate everything.”

February grins. “Least you’ve got your health, eh?”

January gives a pointed cough. “Nope. Just getting over the flu.”

“Stop whinging, January. You really are a buzzkill,” December slurs. “Have a drink with me, won’t you?” Continue reading “Here Comes Dreary January | Flash Fiction”

Premium Tears | Microfiction

Buttons from a yellow jacket – check.

Feather from a buzzard – check.

Blood from a bounty hunter – check. And that shit wasn’t easy to get hold of. I hope that dude doesn’t have any vengeful friends. Continue reading “Premium Tears | Microfiction”

Believing is Key | Flash Fiction

“You broke it. I’m telling Mummy.”

“You always go crying to Mum. Baby.”

“I am not. You’re a baby.”

“I’m 10. You’re a baby.”

“Am not! I’m almost eight.”

“But you’re not eight yet. Baby!”

Finn threw a weak punch at his big sister.

Amy shoved him right back. “Don’t hit!” Continue reading “Believing is Key | Flash Fiction”

A Swim in the Nuddy | Flash Fiction

“Come on, pal — get your kit off.”

Dale shivered and looked up at the night sky from which the first flakes of snow were beginning to fall. “I can’t believe you’re serious about this.”

Ryan clapped him on the back. “A swim in the sea in the nuddy — it’s a tradition. You’ve had ten pints, you shouldn’t be able to feel the cold.”

“You really do it every year?”

Gareth laughed. “Every year, just past midnight on Christmas Eve. So get your bloody kit off.”

Dale eyed the black waves. It wasn’t a choppy night out at sea, but it wasn’t as calm as he’d like. He wasn’t the strongest of swimmers, and he wondered if the ten pints would improve on his doggy-paddling or make it worse. “Why do I have to go first?”

“New guy always goes first,” Ryan said. “Them’s the rules.”

CONTINUE READING ON MEDIUM >

Day 358 | Flash Fiction

By day 358 on the island I was shitting through the eye of a needle.

I didn’t know if the coconuts were rancid or I’d simply eaten so many that my body was finally starting to reject them. But what choice did I have? I could shit myself silly or I could starve to death. I was seriously considering the latter.

And then I saw the boat on the horizon. I thought it was coconut-induced delirium at first, but I blinked and I blinked and it wouldn’t go away. I stoked the fire and piled it high with every flammable thing I could find until thick plumes of grey smoke rose high up into the azure sky.

CONTINUE READING ON MEDIUM >

Village Secrets | Flash Fiction

“Delicious casserole, Paula. You must give me the recipe.”

“Absolutely. I’ll email it to you.”

***

“Beautiful casserole! You never did send me the recipe.”

“Didn’t I? I’ll send it over tomorrow.”

***

“Your famous casserole again! Are you ever going to send me the recipe or will you take it to the grave with you?”

“I could have sworn I sent it, Denise. Did you check your junk folder?” Continue reading “Village Secrets | Flash Fiction”

Bickering | Flash Fiction

“Do you hear what I hear?”

Cow chews on her cud and shakes her head at Sheep.

“Dog and Cat at it again,” Sheep whispers. “Listen.”

Cow stops chewing and strains her ears. Faint growls and yowls can be heard from the other side of the barn. She sighs and begins to chomp once again.

Sheep chuckles. “What do you think it’s about this time?”

“I want nothing to do with this gossip,” mutters Cow. “It’s none of my business and it’s certainly none of yours.”

“Oh, but it is. I answer to that bloody sheepdog, see. The more dirt I can get on her, the better.” Continue reading “Bickering | Flash Fiction”