‘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”
The museum buzzed with voices and footsteps every time it rained. When the sun shone, it was deserted.
The city’s people didn’t care for history. They cared only for shelter when unfavourable weather dampened their retail therapy. Continue reading “Rainy Day | Microfiction”
Once upon a time there was a woman who only ever walked backwards.
She was the retrospective type. She believed that looking back would help her to learn from the past. It gave her time to brood over old regrets and figure out what she would do differently if she could turn back time and replay her life. Plus, it meant that she didn’t have to worry one jot about the future; she didn’t look ahead, so everything that was to come next was a perpetual surprise. Continue reading “Looking Back | Microfiction”
‘What are you doing, Grandad?’
‘I see that. Why?’
‘Goin’ to China.’ Continue reading “Diggin’ | Microfiction”
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. It was just a dumb tradition he’d picked up from his parents. It was harmless, really, as long as nobody took it to the extreme.
But she’d come down on him like a tonne of bricks and somehow, he’d ended up in the hospital. Continue reading “First of the Month | Microfiction”
She refused to be broken by it. Instead, she’d turn it into a positive.
She’d been thinking for a little while that it was time for a new adventure, time to broaden her mind and see what else there was on offer.
She wouldn’t be defeated. She’d rise to the challenge. She’d take the bad and turn it into good. This was an opportunity. Continue reading “Never Broken | Microfiction”
I’m totally gonna nail this. I’ve got a photographic memory, and everyone knows that exams are piss easy with a photographic memory.
I barely even had to revise – it all went straight in when I was in class. I only had to flip through my notes once. For luck, I suppose. Just to be on the safe side. Continue reading “Exam | Microfiction”
“The soup’s too thin!” the head chef squawked, over and over until the junior chef thought she could take it no more.
She’d done her best. She’d tried to reduce it. She’d tried adding cornflour. She’d tried dolloping in cream. And still the meat soup didn’t live up to the head chef’s standards. Continue reading “Soup | Microfiction”
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”