It was only when I was stark bollock naked with my wrists tethered to a giant hook that I began to have doubts.
Not that there was any going back. There wasn’t time. Someone gave the go-ahead and I was raised into the air, feet flailing wildly, arms aching, fear setting in. I swayed side to side and back and forth as the crane slid me to the left and dangled me over the top of the vat of liquid skin. Continue reading “Dunk | Flash Fiction”
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”
The Prime Minister rubs at tired eyes and checks her watch. “Right. Give me an update on Kitten Café.”
The CEO of Kitten Café smiles and nods. “All is going well, Prime Minister. This month we’ve adopted out 244 cats within our London branches alone. I’ve yet to gt figures confirmed from other regions but -”
“I couldn’t care less about the cats,” the Prime Minister snaps. “Tell me how it’s really going.” Continue reading “Kitten Café | Flash Fiction”
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”
‘One hundred words to go, that’s all, bobblehead! One hundred little words to write until I meet my target and I can rest easy. And it’s only 4 a.m.! I’ve done well, haven’t I?’
The writer’s bobblehead mascot nods frantically in agreement as she taps out a manic rhythm on the desk with her fingers. Continue reading “Missed Targets | Flash Fiction”
‘Engage all switches when I countdown to one, okay?’
The crew barks its agreement.
The captain wipes the sweat from his brow. They’re under a lot of pressure. They crashed on this deserted planet 15 months ago due to an engine failure. Every waking minute had been dedicated to getting the ship back up and running. Now, they’re ready.
At least, he thinks they are. Turning the system back on is the first step, but security protocols demand that each control panel be rebooted in perfect unison. If they fail… well, they’re fucked. Continue reading “Kablamo | 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”
Have you ever wanted to match your accessories to your mood? Why not go one step further and let your accessories transform your mood!
With the Ultimate Mood Ring, you can switch up your mood in a matter of minutes by simply switching out the stylish stone. Continue reading “The Ultimate Mood Ring | Microfiction”
The Vice President of Future Visionary takes in the stony faces of the young people who stand before her. Hundreds of 18-year-olds, all set to take on the biggest challenge of their lives. She tries her best to look hopeful. Continue reading “The Kids Are The Future | 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”