For years the stained-glass dolphin has hung in the window of Stacey’s grandmother’s house.
It has never felt right to see a creature so spirited hang frozen in a house so subdued. “I’ll set you free,” Stacey would whisper to it. And now, with grandmother out of town, it’s time.
Continue reading “Set Free | Microfiction”
Kate smiles and sings with all the #verve the lead role demands despite the vicious glare from the front row that belongs to a woman with a cast on her leg.
Continue reading “Verve | Microfiction”
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.
Continue reading “There’s Evil Afoot | Microfiction”
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 And I just hope it doesn’t go out of date before you get your use out of it.”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.
Continue reading “What A Novelty | Microfiction”
The cliff is fast approaching.
“Car, slow down.”
“Car, open door.”
“Car, please, please don’t kill me.”
Continue reading “Request Denied | Microfiction”
“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”
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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Earl wipes sweat from his brow. Pearl gnaws on her fingernails. Their entire relationship depends on the outcome of this single moment – a polygraph test.
The examiner shakes his head. “The system says it was a lie.”
Earl explodes. “I knew it! How could you do that to me? And how could you lie to me about doing that to me?”
Continue reading “Liar | Microfiction”
There was an old woman from Hull,
Her finger she asked me to pull,
I dumbly agreed,
Oh, what a misdeed,
For she let rip a stench quite awful.
Continue reading “A Bad Limerick | Microfiction”