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”
She took the strange bone home and stashed it on her treasure shelf alongside the rest of her collected curiosities. Shells and stones, skeletons of leaves, little Lego people and Kinder Egg loot, the pretty head of a ceramic lady. Continue reading “Curiosity | Microfiction”
She despises these events. Free tea and coffee is fine, but it comes with the pressure of idle chitchat and ‘making connections’ for the company she hates working for.
She pours a mound of sugar into her coffee and catches the eye of a man opposite her. Continue reading “Chitchat | Microfiction”
It was certainly the weirdest surgery the doctor had ever performed, but it marked her as a pioneer in her industry. Plus, her fee was enough for a down payment on a sprawling mansion in the Hollywood Hills. For that kind of money, she wouldn’t ask questions – she’d just do her job.
But as she completed the patient’s final check-up before discharge, curiosity got the better of her. Continue reading “The Pioneer | 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”
The to-do list beckons every day, waiting for its bullet points to be transformed into to-dones. Hours tick by and the to-dos remain, unsatisfactorily unmarked my big ticks or bold strikethroughs. Continue reading “To-Do | Microfiction”
It was a subtle change, but not unnoticeable. There was something about the synthetic sun that wasn’t quite right. It burned too brightly. It was the wrong shade of yellow. Worst of all, it felt too close.
Each day at noon, it seemed as though the sun bore down on humankind like an imminent threat. But only a few believed the threat was real. Continue reading “Imminent Threat | Microfiction”
The Lost Property office was manned by a bloke that some called “a character.” The less polite simply referred to him as “an arsehole.”
‘Not seen any legs round here,’ he said with a shrug to the worried face in front of him. ‘Sorry.’ Continue reading “A Character | Microfiction”
The goods were delivered to us in shoeboxes.
It was the perfect cover; the filth couldn’t give a damn about shoes. They noted the boxes piled high on the back of the boats, observed the display of stilettos in our shop window, and rolled their eyes at the vanity of women. Continue reading “The Perfect Cover | 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”