Assumptions | Flash Fiction

“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”

That Sweet Spot | Flash Fiction

“Who’d feed us?” said the dog, head resting on her paws.

“Well I can fend for myself,” said the cat, as she stretched out a paw and extended her talons. “These claws weren’t solely meant for scratching the sofa. You, on the other hand, have no idea how to hunt. You’d probably perish. But your ineptitude is none of my concern.”

The dog rolled her eyes. “If you hate her so much, why don’t you just leave? Killing her seems so extreme.” Continue reading “That Sweet Spot | Flash Fiction”

Soup | Microfiction

“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”

What Does He Have? | 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 | 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”

Food Poisoning | Microfiction

“I’m the most vital ingredient in this dish.”

“Rubbish!” cried Tom. “I’m a beef tomato. Like, the king of tomatoes.”

“You’re just the fat tomato,” sneered Moz, “that’s all. Meanwhile, I’m buffalo mozzarella. Buffalo beats cow any day.” Continue reading “Food Poisoning | Microfiction”

Smile | 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”

Addiction | Flash Fiction

Amber scanned the tower of books in front of her, but she couldn’t find the right one.

Her friend had wittered on about the book for hours, insisting that it was the best work of literature that the world had ever known. Amber was chuffed with herself because she’d predicted it would be the best work of literature the world would ever know as soon as she’d seen it in the bookstore eighteen months ago. Trouble was, she hadn’t got around to reading it yet. And now, she was out of the loop. Continue reading “Addiction | Flash Fiction”

George’s Big Day | Flash Fiction

George sank his sword into the dragon’s chest, and the beast’s furious bellows rang out across the land.

Blood poured from the wound and began to soak George’s sleeve. He grimaced and backed away, watching as the creature writhed in agony and tried desperately to remove the weapon which was lodged in its flesh. Continue reading “George’s Big Day | Flash Fiction”

Distressed | Flash Fiction

Bonnie and her mother both gasped as they entered Ragz N Bonez Clothing, but for very different reasons. Bonnie was overjoyed. Her mother was repulsed.

Bonnie threw her mother a warning glance – a look that said, “Don’t show me up” – before prancing to the nearest rail of clothes. She trailed her hand over the garments as though they had been spun from threads of gold. Continue reading “Distressed | Flash Fiction”