Assumptions | Flash Fiction

“The assumption was that we would meet at 7.30pm, having already purchased our sweet treats and stashed them on our persons, ready to buy our tickets and find the best seats in the cinema.”

“That was your assumption, actually.”

“Instead, you met me at 7.30pm not only without your sweet treats, but without any idea of what sweet treats you wanted.”

“This was a cinema trip, not a military operation.” Continue reading “Assumptions | Flash Fiction”

Made for Me | Flash Fiction

Liza drew back the changing room curtain and struck a sassy pose for her maid of honour.

“Liza… it’s perfect!”

“I know!” Liza squealed as she turned away from her friend and admired herself in the mirror. “It’s lacy but not too fussy. Form fitting but not too clingy. Vintage but not too stuffy. And it fits me like a glove; even the length is bang on. It’s like it was made for me.”

She was right; the dress was made for her. It was made for her to do something truly awful. Continue reading “Made for Me | Flash Fiction”

Passion for New Projects | Blog

I started a new story this week. A long one. Well, technically it’s a short story, but considering that the majority of tales I write here are under 500 words, it’s gargantuan in comparison.

And I’m so excited about it!

It’s one that came from a daft little scribble in a notebook; a single line that I felt had potential to be something interesting. And now it’s all planned out and a third of the way written and I feel like it’s my wee baby – something to love and nurture and make wonderful. Continue reading “Passion for New Projects | Blog”

That Sweet Spot | Flash Fiction

“Who’d feed us?” said the dog, head resting on her paws.

“Well I can fend for myself,” said the cat, as she stretched out a paw and extended her talons. “These claws weren’t solely meant for scratching the sofa. You, on the other hand, have no idea how to hunt. You’d probably perish. But your ineptitude is none of my concern.”

The dog rolled her eyes. “If you hate her so much, why don’t you just leave? Killing her seems so extreme.” Continue reading “That Sweet Spot | Flash Fiction”

Soup | Microfiction

“The soup’s too thin!” the head chef squawked, over and over until the junior chef thought she could take it no more.

She’d done her best. She’d tried to reduce it. She’d tried adding cornflour. She’d tried dolloping in cream. And still the meat soup didn’t live up to the head chef’s standards. Continue reading “Soup | Microfiction”

Supercar | Flash Fiction

“She’s a beauty,” Reg said proudly as he traced the curves of his new car’s bonnet with his fingertips.

“Mm,” the courier grunted as he flicked through some paperwork. “You need a run-through of the vehicle before I leave it with you?”

Reg scoffed. “I think I can handle it, mate.” Continue reading “Supercar | Flash Fiction”

What Does He Have? | Microfiction

She’s just… exquisite.

The way her hair wafts in the breeze and shimmers under the sun. The way she smiles and licks her lips when she catches her breath. The way she takes in the world with big, hazel eyes, as though every day is the most beautiful she’s ever seen.

Every single move she makes is extraordinary. And her tail! Continue reading “What Does He Have? | Microfiction”

Laughter is the Best Medicine | Microfiction

Laughter is the best medicine, but when healthcare comes at a price it is only the rich who are lucky enough to try the tonic.

Jacques made a sound living from flogging laughter, but it was a miserable job. He spent his days trawling the streets, waiting on jokes and witticisms before pouncing upon those who heard them.

As soon as the laughter came tumbling from his victims’ mouths, he’d leap upon them and capture it while it was still fresh. Continue reading “Laughter is the Best Medicine | Microfiction”

Bank Holiday Misery | Short Story

11:16 AM

“There was no lamb left, love,” said Frank, as he dumped his shopping bags on the kitchen floor.

“What do you mean?” said Rita, a small flutter of panic running through her.

“No lamb joints,” Frank said with a shrug. “No pork, either, as I thought that would be second best. All they had was chicken, and all the big ones had already gone. Supermarket was jam-packed.”

“But you went early. How could they run out of lamb and pork when you went first thing? You did go first thing, didn’t you? You didn’t sneak off somewhere else first?” Continue reading “Bank Holiday Misery | Short Story”

Food Poisoning | Microfiction

“I’m the most vital ingredient in this dish.”

“Rubbish!” cried Tom. “I’m a beef tomato. Like, the king of tomatoes.”

“You’re just the fat tomato,” sneered Moz, “that’s all. Meanwhile, I’m buffalo mozzarella. Buffalo beats cow any day.” Continue reading “Food Poisoning | Microfiction”