She has bought a box of supermarket sushi for lunch, but all the green spaces and benches in the centre of town are so packed with people. Loud people. She wants to go somewhere and relax. She would like to be able to enjoy her lunch in peace and quiet. She hates seeing so many faces crowding round her. It is upsetting. She can feel herself becoming panicked. The panic feels like a snake. It pulls itself up out of her stomach and up through her throat; like a slow, venomous vomit rising into her mouth. Continue reading “Relaxation (short story)”
As the bird flew away, Annie wondered if she would always be alone and hungry. Continue reading “The Beginning (flash fiction)”
The ATM screen is flashing at me. Would I like an advice slip with my cash? I press the button for yes. Continue reading “Take My Advice-Slip (short story)”
He bought the tape measure during one of his trips to Amsterdam, Continue reading “Reconstruction (short story)”
‘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 got at least half a mile and how could she not have noticed. Then she apologised, and I said I forgave her, and we discussed how we had put it behind us and ate our sandwiches.
It wasn’t until we were well off track and she got out the map and I said I knew exactly where we were and she didn’t have to. ‘Don’t I?’ she said and I said that she was past contempt.
That silent walk home in the moonlight was the nicest bit of our wedding day.
*first published in the 2010 issue of The Binnacle
She had the day off work because the fish died. Continue reading “Respiration (short story)”
I don’t want any, thank you. Can’t abide hot drinks; they turn my stomach. Continue reading “The Wedding Guest (flash fiction)”
Mind yourself as you come through there, please, the newspaper on the floor hasn’t been changed since yesterday. Continue reading “If You Love Me, Let Me Go (short story)”
Was I right to burn my bridges? Not the best call, environmentally speaking. Great plumes of black smoke and that lingering, queasy aftertaste in the air which must have been the plastic safety rail. Continue reading “Endangered Species (short story)”
I play my grandmother’s memory loss in a game for closeness. Continue reading “I Miss Her (#shortstory)”