Once upon a time there was a woman who only ever walked backwards.
She was the retrospective type. She believed that looking back would help her to learn from the past. It gave her time to brood over old regrets and figure out what she would do differently if she could turn back time and replay her life. Plus, it meant that she didn’t have to worry one jot about the future; she didn’t look ahead, so everything that was to come next was a perpetual surprise. Continue reading “Looking Back | Microfiction”
‘What are you doing, Grandad?’
‘I see that. Why?’
‘Goin’ to China.’ Continue reading “Diggin’ | Microfiction”
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. It was just a dumb tradition he’d picked up from his parents. It was harmless, really, as long as nobody took it to the extreme.
But she’d come down on him like a tonne of bricks and somehow, he’d ended up in the hospital. Continue reading “First of the Month | Microfiction”
She refused to be broken by it. Instead, she’d turn it into a positive.
She’d been thinking for a little while that it was time for a new adventure, time to broaden her mind and see what else there was on offer.
She wouldn’t be defeated. She’d rise to the challenge. She’d take the bad and turn it into good. This was an opportunity. Continue reading “Never Broken | Microfiction”
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”