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Ellie Scott

Writer. Copywriter. Weirdo.

life

Illustration of a sloth hanging from a branch - "Hang In There!" flash fiction
#Animal Tales#Fiction#Flash Fiction#Medium#Staff Room Sagas

Hang In There! | Flash Fiction

Hang In There! says the poster, and just beneath this peppy instruction is a photograph of a sloth hanging languidly from a branch. Its little black eyes gaze out, curious, while a superior half-smile on its mouth shows its true colours. “Oh yeah, you hang in there,” that smug mouth seems to say. “I’ll even provide the noose.” Gordon wants to punch that fucking sloth right between its beady eyes. Continue reading on Medium >

Hands sewing illustration - "Quilting" flash fiction
#Fiction#Flash Fiction#Medium

Quilting | Flash Fiction

Oh, she’s so fucking old. How is she still clinging on to life? How? “Morning Mrs Tidpot,” I call as I lug her shopping through to the kitchen. “Mm.” She’s quilting as usual. Always bloody quilting. How she isn’t bored to death of it yet I don’t know. “Working on that quilt again, are you?” “Mm.” I put the kettle on and unpack the shopping, wondering who I could get to shoot me if I ever ended up quilting every damn day just to while away the seconds until death. Continue reading on Medium >

The Humber Bridge at sunset - "The Last Cig in the Packet" short story
#Fiction#Medium#Short Stories

The Last Cig in the Packet | Short Story

I wrote this story nine months ago and put off publishing it in case it was too morbid or doleful. It’s certainly a lot different to the silly, whimsy fiction I tend to post. I was also scared of sharing too much of myself. This story is fictional, but it is inspired by own experiences with depression, self-harm and suicidal ideation. It’s Mental Health Awareness Week in the UK right now. I figured that sharing fiction like this might help in one way or another. Ask for help. Lean on your loved ones. Don’t be too proud to admit when […]

Kids on seesaw illustration - "Sucker!" short story
#Fiction#Medium#Short Stories

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, […]

Mug illustration - "The Mug" flash fiction
#Fiction#Flash Fiction

The Mug | Flash Fiction

The mug sits unwashed on the kitchen table, a layer of white fuzz growing on the surface of the dregs of tea inside it. A smudge of lipstick is on the rim, and there’s a fingerprint made in chocolate on the handle. The rest of the kitchen is pristine. Every single other mug, cup, glass, plate and bowl is dutifully washed, dried and put away immediately after use. But the mouldy mug remains on the table, as it has for three weeks now. Continue reading on Medium >

Woman sitting illustration - "Wild Things My Grandma Told Me" short story
#Fiction#Medium#Short Stories

Wild Things My Grandma Told Me | Short Story

Grandparents have secrets. And trust me — you don’t want to know what they are. My Grandma was 87 years old when she revealed her secrets, but nobody would have pegged her anything beyond 75. She had a few lines and wrinkles here and there, sure, but you’d never guess she was pushing 90. And if you spoke to her without seeing her, you’d think her in her 30s. She could talk a mile a minute and she swore like a trooper. She knew her stuff when it came to modern music and the latest blockbusters. She had an iPhone and a […]

Illustration of little girl pointing - "Questions for kids" flash fiction
#Fiction#Flash Fiction#Medium

Questions for Kids | Flash Fiction

“…so the pig offered a piece of his meat for the bloke to use as a muscle in his leg. That’s why they call it a hamstring.” “Cool! Thanks, Dad.” Kids are inquisitive. Too inquisitive, for Jez’s liking. They ask a lot of questions to which nobody really knows the answers, but if you try to fob them off with an “I don’t know, pet,” they’ll witter on and on and on until you’re about ready to lose your mind. Jez came up with a solution to this problem. Just make shit up. Easy… CONTINUE READING ON MEDIUM >

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