Don wakes up with a taste in his mouth that is reminiscent of the arse end of a badger. His head throbs and his stomach feels raw and empty. He’s slumped against the locked door of his local pub, and all around him is chaos.
People are running up and down the street, some carrying baseball bats, others lugging cardboard boxes, more still swigging from beer cans and bottles of liquor. Most of them have hoods pulled low over their faces and they’re shouting and screaming, whooping and laughing. Continue reading “If You Can’t Beat ‘Em | Flash Fiction”
“Just through here, mate,” I say, gesturing to the bedroom. “Good job I live in a bungalow – you’d have had a hard time getting it upstairs.”
The delivery guy nods as he wheels the bulky package down the corridor. “Aye, my back’s done in. I had to get a washing machine up to a third floor flat this morning. No lift, either. Would have been no problem for me ten years ago but my age is catching up with me.” Continue reading “Delivery | Microfiction”
Emily swings the metal detector from side to side, ignoring her brother’s pleading tones behind her.
“Come on, Em, please! I need to pee so bad. And I’m bored and my legs are tired and we haven’t found anything all day.”
“Shut up, Isaac! It’s beeping. There’s something here.” She drops to the ground and begins to scrabble at the soil with her hands. Continue reading “Loot | Flash Fiction”
“Dylan! Be careful with that car, will you?”
Dylan ignores his mother’s words and continues with his game. It’s an epic race up and down the steepest of hills and around the tightest of corners. His little red Matchbox car is the fastest there has ever been, but that doesn’t necessarily mean its destined to win. The car could spin out over the edge of a cliff and meet its brutal demise at the bottom of a mountain. It could flip in mid-air over and over and land on its roof, its wheels still spinning. It could careen out of control on a tricky chicane and smash into a great fir tree. Continue reading “Race | Flash Fiction”
The view up here is just spectacular. I can see for miles. Keep an eye on my kingdom. Look out for trespassers and make a note of their appearance so that I can give them a good slap later. It’s perfect. Continue reading “Adrenaline Junkie | Microfiction”
“Everything looks gorgeous,” says the bride, as she gazes around a dining hall adorned with opulent silk drapes, beautiful displays of red roses, and strings upon strings of sparkling white lights. “You’ve brought all our visions to life!”
The wedding planner beams at her. “I’m so pleased you’re happy with it all. I’ll show you through to the private bar so that you can have a quiet drink together before your guests pile in. It’s nice to have some breathing space after the ceremony.”
“Hang on,” says the groom. “What about the brass band?” Continue reading “Wedding Music | Microfiction”
“Go on then, Jim. Go and play.”
Jim glares at Flossie.
“Don’t look at me like that. Go on! Go run off some of that excess podge. And make some friends while you’re at it.”
Jim wanders off towards a group of potential friends nearby and loiters at the edges, waiting for someone to invite him into their fold.
Flossie approaches her own pack.
“He’s not very sociable, your Jim, is he?” says a fluffy Pomeranian. Continue reading “Making Friends | Microfiction”
The waiter approaches the couple’s table and lays a plate between them with a flourish.
“Sir and madam, may I present to you the World’s Most Accurate Fortune Cookies. These cookies are handmade by a renowned oracle. The cookies which you select from this plate are destined for you, and you alone. Inside, you will learn of your fate.” Continue reading “The World’s Most Accurate Fortune Cookies | Microfiction”
Polly scans the menu with her brow furrowed.
“Are you ready to order, madam?” asks the server.
“Almost. I’m having a little trouble choosing,” she says with an apologetic smile.
“No problem. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you can pay extra for each additional trait on top of the 10 included in the base price.” Continue reading “Decisions | Microfiction”