Green | Flash Fiction

Girl with pigtails illustration - "Green" flash fiction

The green tinge started in her toes. She was convinced it was a fungal infection, but her Google searches insisted that a fungal infection couldn’t spread all the way up her foot and to her ankles, and certainly not within 24 hours.

By the time the green was right up to her knees, she knew something wasn’t right but she was couldn’t bear to see a doctor. Besides, she could cover it up with trousers and socks, and pretend like it wasn’t happening.

When the green grew all the way up to her belly button, she began to wonder if she was rotting from the bottom up, but there was no strange smell to accompany the change in hue. By now, 36 hours had passed since the first tiny green patch had appeared, and she knew that if something wasn’t done it was going to creep right up her neck and all over her face.

She turned to her mother for help, because her mother knew everything about everything. Sure enough, she got a diagnosis.

“You’re jealous.”

“Am I?”


“Of who?”

“You tell me.”

The green girl sighed. “Sandra got the lead role in the school play.”

“There you have it. You’re turning green with envy.”

“So what can I do?”

“She’s your best friend. Be happy for her.”

“Oh, like it’s so easy.”

Her mother shrugged. “Worth a try. Unless you want to turn green.”

The green girl sat at the back of the audience at the play, bundled up in a scarf and gloves despite the sweltering heat of the school hall. She watched Sandra lead the production with skill and poise, and when the show came to an end she ran backstage to offer her congratulations.

“You were wonderful. The perfect leading lady. I’m so proud.” And she meant it.

She visited the bathroom before she left. She hid herself away in a stall and slipped her gloves off from hands with bated breath.

Her skin looked like skin. No more were her fingers and nails pea-green.

She tugged off her scarf. The green had faded away from her neck, and it was slowly retreating back down her chest. Soon, she’d be rid of it completely.

The bathroom door creaked and banged, and the not-so-green girl heard the idle chitter-chatter of some of her peers.

“Sandra was awful.”

“I know! She so didn’t deserve that part.”

“Worst performance I’ve ever seen.”

The not-so-green girl gasped. She looked at her hands and whimpered. She scrabbled in her bag for her compact and peered at herself in the tiny mirror.

“No,” she whispered.

Yes. The green was gone, but in its place was an angry shade of hot red that covered every inch of her body and face.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” said her mother later. “You’ve got a terrible case of wrath.”

Stories that Sing

I write one new story each week inspired by a random song from my Spotify library. This week it was “Typical” by Laura Marling.

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