I’m totally gonna nail this. I’ve got a photographic memory, and everyone knows that exams are piss easy with a photographic memory.
I barely even had to revise – it all went straight in when I was in class. I only had to flip through my notes once. For luck, I suppose. Just to be on the safe side. Continue reading “Exam | Microfiction”
“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”
“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”
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, 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”
Lisa winced and shuffled in her seat as her stomach churned and bubbled. She cursed herself for eating beans for lunch.
“You okay, there?” said the painter, having noted his muse’s discomfort.
“Fine, yes. Sorry,” Lisa said, blushing. Continue reading “Smile | 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”
A man wakes with a start and finds himself wet from the waist down. He tries to take in his surroundings. He’s half submerged in a white, milky liquid, and all he can see around him is metal.
He tries to move his arms, but he can’t. He looks down and realises he’s been tethered with rope. He’s attached to a metal pole which is digging uncomfortably into his back.
“You’ll pay. We tried to warn you.” He hears the voice, but he doesn’t know where it comes from. Continue reading “Biting Back”
Summer Sundays were always meant for al fresco dinners. An opportunity for a busy family to share the week’s news over a bottle of wine and a table straining with food.
I didn’t see why it had to be different after the accident. Every week I prepared a spread fit for a king, only I was the sole diner. Continue reading “Summer Sundays”
“So, we’ve tenderized the meat, we’ve smothered it in a delicious coating of egg, flour, and breadcrumbs – seasoned to perfection, I might add – so what’s next?”
The audience remained quiet. The chef waited a few moments to allow them to marinate in their own silence, hoping they would realise how disrespectful they were being. Continue reading “Schnitzel”