Sucker! | Short Story

Her chest heaves as she looks at the photograph of days long gone. Her and her big brother, eight and ten years old, throwing sand at each other on Brighton beach. A snapshot of childhood, back when summers seemed to stretch out for years rather than months, giving them hours upon hours of play and playfights to indulge in.

“Alright, love?”

She jumps at the sound of her husband’s voice and the photo frame slips from her hands and lands with a crack on the edge of the hearth.

“Fuck!”

“It’s alright, I’m sure it’s fine.”

She retrieves the frame, leaving chunks of smashed glass behind on the floor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The tears fall fast.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can replace the frame easy enough, can’t we?” He takes the frame from her, swiftly removes the backing and hands her the photograph. “There’s something written on the back of that.”

The world seems to slow down around her. It’s like a spider has wandered across the page, its legs covered in ink. Her brother’s unmistakable scruffy handwriting.

Alright, knobhead! I KNEW you’d drop this frame. You’re so predictable. And stupidly clumsy.

Don’t feel too bad, the glass was already cracked. And it was 99p from Asda — you know me, I love a bargain.

Now, it’s time for a good old-fashioned TREASURE HUNT!

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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”