Bank Holiday Misery | Short Story

Mouse illustration - "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”

Undercover | Microfiction

T shirt illustration - "Undercover" microfiction

Lily had never felt less notable in her life. But that’s exactly what she was going for.

Her usual attire of black skinny jeans, metal band tee, leather jacket, and shiny, silver Chelsea boots was gone in exchange for tracksuit bottoms, an oversized hoodie, and plain, white trainers. Even her purple hair had been pulled back into a bun and hidden beneath a black beany hat. Continue reading “Undercover | Microfiction”

Addiction | Flash Fiction

Stack of books illustration - "Addiction" Flash Fiction

Amber scanned the tower of books in front of her, but she couldn’t find the right one.

Her friend had wittered on about the book for hours, insisting that it was the best work of literature that the world had ever known. Amber was chuffed with herself because she’d predicted it would be the best work of literature the world would ever know as soon as she’d seen it in the bookstore eighteen months ago. Trouble was, she hadn’t got around to reading it yet. And now, she was out of the loop. Continue reading “Addiction | Flash Fiction”

Distressed | Flash Fiction

Coat hanger illustration - "Distressed" flash fiction

Bonnie and her mother both gasped as they entered Ragz N Bonez Clothing, but for very different reasons. Bonnie was overjoyed. Her mother was repulsed.

Bonnie threw her mother a warning glance – a look that said, “Don’t show me up” – before prancing to the nearest rail of clothes. She trailed her hand over the garments as though they had been spun from threads of gold. Continue reading “Distressed | Flash Fiction”