TubeFlash pairs London underground stations with brooches, and invites people to write a piece of flash fiction inspired by the combination.
Even the stains on the towel looked authentic. I didn’t know there would be so much of it. The small red bottle was a tardis. With an hour still to go before Maurice returned from the garden centre, I washed my hands repeatedly with his special carbolic soap. No success. The nail brush was at … Continue reading One Vial Act (flash fiction)
Mildred passed Ernie the small silver jug of cream and he attempted to balance the blue cup and saucer on the thick ridges of his corduroy trousers. extract from 'Things We Do Not Talk About' June has been a flash-fiction month for me, perhaps appropriately as it has the shortest night of the year. National … Continue reading Flashing around: June 2014 round-up
Falling off the wall had been the most exciting thing ever to happen to Jane. The doctor’s soft hands, the crisp white hospital sheets, the smoothness of the empty vase next to her bed. ‘I promise to be more careful,’ she said, scrunching her eyes as the plastic tube was slid out from her arm. … Continue reading Birds may fly (flash fiction)
The Beginning As the bird flew away, Annie wondered if she would always be alone and hungry. When the last of the leaves blew out of the trees, Annie swam in the fish-empty lake until her fingers purpled. A tent appeared on the hillside; Annie licked her lips and started walking. *first published in The Spilling … Continue reading The Beginning (flash fiction)
‘Am I?’ ‘Only ten minutes.’ I said. Then she apologised, and I said I forgave her, and we both pretended it didn’t matter any more and set off. Halfway round the headline, I stopped to get a stone out my shoe and she kept walking. ‘Did I?’ she said and I said that she had … Continue reading Past Contempt (flash fiction)
I don’t want any, thank you. Can’t abide hot drinks; they turn my stomach. Always been that way, ever since I was a child. Am I bride or groom? Both. Neither. You may have seen me in church, up the front. Yes, that was me. How kind of you to say so. I’ve had it … Continue reading The Wedding Guest (flash fiction)
Lost: Twelve stone of useless weight that used to displace half the water in the bath and mock me, mock me, mock me for displacing more. Answers to the name ‘Mark’ reluctantly, preferring to watch old war movies or nail varnish drying on other women’s toenails. If found, please tell him to contact his mother … Continue reading Classified (flash fiction)