Category: Microfiction

It only takes a split second for everything to change. A single decision. Sometimes a single word. One that cannot be unsaid. An action that cannot be undone. Yes. No. I do. I don’t. Send. Delete. Run. Hide. Guilty. Not Guilty. She stood as the jury entered the room. Swallowed a scratchy, dry nothing but…

She heard the soft crack and felt her ears twitch like a cat’s. Turning around, she saw the spiked green shell on the pavement, the jewel of its insides shining up at her. She knelt down and picked it up, running her thumb over its smooth surface. She placed it in her pocket with the…

“Where do we go when we sleep?” They knew. Somehow they knew. Her eyes flicked imperceptibly to her husband, seeking the tells she had been taught to look out for. A twitch of the head. A stiffening of his posture. He showed nothing, humming as her washed up. She smiled at her son. “What do…

She touched her hand to the cool stone and wondered at all of the people who had done the same thing before her. Nearly a thousand years of hidden handprints, of unremarkable people made remarkable in her head. Because she could see them all when she closed her eyes. The Norman abbot with a scar…

They avoided each other at the family party, circling around the tables of canapés and the old fashioned ice cream truck like wild animals. They hadn’t been in the same country as each other let alone the same ostentatiously large garden for five years. They each believed that the others hadn’t been invited to Jack’s…

They thought about building new rituals, ones that would last so that their child’s old age would be warmed by the glow of memories. They would let him choose a song to listen to as he brushed his teeth. They would teach him about a new bird every morning over fruit-topped cereal. They would count…

The first man was cheating on his wife. He watched him pull his ring out of his pocket as he reached for his wallet. Put it back on his arrogant finger as he walked away without tipping. The second man was on his way to a job interview, the nervous bouncing of his other leg…

She poured more coffee into the mug of the young woman trying to look older than she was. She hoped it would bring some energy into her young eyes but they remained flat and grey. It was so early in the morning she still considered it nighttime. “Have you got somewhere to go tonight Hon?”…

Their heart rates raised at the same time. One understood why. The other didn’t. A loosened grip was all it took, a crowd parting them without realising. She noticed first. He was distracted by sunlight bouncing off a windscreen, the dazzle reminding him of waking up to her smile. She called his name, her voice…

“Your job must be so lonely.” He had never looked at it that way. Yes, sometimes entire days would pass when he would simply acknowledge other drivers with a nod or a wave and only exchange pleasantries with staff at the rest stops. Some days he said nothing at all, and would then be surprised…