The pentagram was laid out on the floor, the candles were lit, and the sacrificial frog was ribbiting his last in his cage.
All that was left to do was sing.
She took a deep breath and began to croon, eyes closed in concentration.
The devil appeared in a cloud of red smoke. Continue reading “Singing for Satan | Microfiction”
“Delicious stew. What’s that lovely flavour?”
“Nice. Fresh or dried?”
“She was pretty fresh. Got a lot left over though, so I might dry her out – make some jerky.” Continue reading “Rosemary | Microfiction”
The kids sit stiffly around the table, staring at the jar. Pretty thing, it is; embossed with stars. Mum’s reward system.
Behave like a little star,
Pick a Post-it out the jar!
Each Post-it would list a special treat – ice cream, dance party, movie night…
Now the treats are in the bin. Continue reading “Pick a Post-it Out the Jar | Microfiction”
“Again… ouch. Again… ugh! Again… aargh. Again… ooo…”
“I don’t really feel comfortable with this.”
“Don’t back out now.”
“But it feels weird.”
“Why? We’re just two friends, helping each other out…” Continue reading “Again | Microfiction”
“I’m telling you – it’s Dad.”
“It’s a bloody goat, Sarah.”
“He’s in the goat’s body.”
“He’s possessed it?”
“He’s been reincarnated.” Continue reading “Goat | Microfiction”
She rubbed at eyes crusted with sleep as she flopped down the stairs and grimaced. Four pairs of walking boots were set out before the front door.
“Ten minutes for breakfast,” her father said. “I’ve mapped a six-mile route. We should be back before the rain sets in.” Continue reading “Take a Hike | Microfiction”
“It’s a Flingahrung. Duh.”
She scrutinised the mass of screwed up newspaper, bent chicken wire, flaking acrylic paint and globs of PVA glue. “What does it do?”
He ran his grubby fingers through his hair, coiffing it into an electrified bird’s nest. “Don’t you know anything?” Continue reading “The Flingahrung | Microfiction”
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”
“What are you doing?”
“Painting, Mummy. Look. Our house.” He points at the crooked series of shapes and blobs on the page. “And us stood outside.”
“Look at the mess.” Continue reading “Tried | Microfiction”
I’m up to my neck in editing right now (why did I ever think it would be a good idea to enrol on a novel-editing course at the same time as editing a collection of short stories which I plan to self-publish next month? WHY?!), which explains why I’ve been so utterly awful at replying to lovely comments and keeping up with everyone’s latest posts. Sorry about that. Hopefully I’ll have a little more time to catch up next week.
I’m also struggling to find time to pen all the stories I planned to write this week, both to post here and over on Medium. But I have been writing super short stories on Twitter on Instagram, so in the interests of shamefully plugging my social media pages, I thought I’d share a few of my recent favourites. I hope they might bring someone somewhere some mild entertainment at the very least. Continue reading “A Selection of Tiny Tales | Microfiction”