The corpse, stretched out on its back on the kitchen floor, twitched.
“Seeing things,” said the detective, rubbing at weary eyes. She turned away to examine the pattern of blood spatters on the tiled walls.
When she turned back the corpse was sitting upright.
Continue reading at One Minute Wit >
“You’re never 60!”
Her colleagues stare at her with pure jealousy. She doesn’t look a day over 45.
“What’s your secret?”
“Ah… that would be telling,” she says smugly. Continue reading “The Ultimate Anti-Aging Secret | Microfiction”
“Nice pair,” said the checkout boy.
The customer gasped. “How dare you? That’s completely inappropriate. I came here to shop; I don’t expect to be drooled over by an employee who is at least half my age. Disgusting. I want to speak to your manager immediately. What a rude young man.”
The checkout boy pointed to the produce in her basket. “I meant your fruit. The pear? Looks good. They’ve just come into season, right?”
CONTINUE READING ON MEDIUM >
Stick after stick they flung into the water before tearing along the muddy riverbank in chase.
Each twiggy sacrifice hurried along the current to its destiny; a big leap over the edge of the rocky outcrop. The sticks plummeted into a deep, dark pool and disappeared beneath the surface. It wasn’t long until they rose again, buoyed by the amber, peaty water. Continue reading “Poohsticks | Microfiction”
“Trick or treat!”
Mr Swinton eyes up the pair of children – dressed up in old white sheets and skeleton face masks – and crosses his arms. “I choose trick.”
The kids glance at one another, rolling their eyes behind their masks.
“You kids all expect something for nothing, don’t you? Well, impress me with a trick and maybe you can earn some sweeties.” Continue reading “Trick | Microfiction”
“Listen up, soldiers! We’ll have to abseil down. But that’s the easy part. Getting across the canyon with so many obstacles won’t be simple. You’ll need to keep your wits about you. Threats are everywhere. Death could –”
“Watch out!” Continue reading “The Mission | Microfiction”
Freya bought the mirror at the flea market, having been assured by the vendor that it would reflect her future.
A first, it showed her a battered and beaten old shed. But as her life progressed and she made smart choice after smart choice, the mirror’s reflection changed. The roof was patched up. The door was painted. Pretty curtains were installed in its windows.
Continue reading “Future | Microfiction”
Mama Wolf watches her pups as they roll around in the grass, nipping at one another’s ears and paws in giddy play. All but the runt, at least, who sits quietly away from his siblings.
“See?” whispers Mama Wolf. “He always separates himself. Wants to be closer to me. He’s too weak to keep up with the rest.” Continue reading “The Runt | Microfiction”