Category: Microfiction

“I’ve got less time than you.” The base of her skull fizzed with panic. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you sick?” A half smile that didn’t touch the eyes. “Nothing like that. I literally have less time. Look.” He showed her his watch. As the seconds hit fifty-five they then reset back to zero. “Clearly your…

She went to the coffee shop every day at the same time. She had a cappuccino and on Thursdays, a blueberry muffin. He went to the coffee shop at the same time every Friday. He always saw the lady with the cappuccino and watched her gazing out of the window with a sad looking smile…

Some said he was arrogant. He preferred supercilious. It was simply the superior word. He supposed he came across as looking down on the world. But that wasn’t his fault. When you existed at heights of six hundred feet or more, you’re always going to literally be looking down. But he did in fact think…

“I saw a dodo today.” “No you didn’t.” “I did actually.” “You can’t have done.” “Why not?” “Cos they’re extinct, dummy.” “Says who?” “Says science.” “What if dodos are just really good at hide and seek?” “Why would they be good at hide and seek?” “Wouldn’t you be if people kept eating you?” “Well, yes.…

“Look!” “What?” “Can you see it?” “See what?” “Over there.” She followed the line of his pointed finger. Out on the water she could see a ship, a pirate flag jet black against the bright blue sky, faint cries rich with rum carrying on the wind. In the sky one of the few clouds began…

The summer had started gloomy and heavy, the grey clouds pressing onto her shoulders alongside the burden of her grief. It was too much to carry at nineteen. Her head had always been filled with the possibilities of what humankind could achieve when scientific ambition went too far, her dreams turning to nightmares and her…

“Why do you always have music playing?” “I don’t. I turn it off when I sleep.” An eyeroll. She was used to his literal way of thinking and speaking. “Apart from when you sleep. Why do you always have music playing?” A smile. He was also used to his literal way of thinking and speaking.…

“Do you remember our road trips?” She could hear Dylan’s ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ as they drove down Highway One towards Big Sur. She could feel the sun on her face as she tasted her first beer on the cobblestones outside the Menin Gate. She could smell the fresh bread from the boulangerie they had…

She pulled a cobweb from her eyelashes. “This is ridiculous. Why do we keep so much junk?” “It’s not junk. Everything in here has been useful and will be again.” “Really?” She held up a VHS player. “Even this?” “They’re retro now. I’ll whack it on eBay. Guarantee it sells within a week.” “And this?”…

“You know you don’t belong here right?” “They can see right through you.” “You’re not good enough. Just go home.” “They’re all talking about you. They’re laughing at you too.” She had carried the voices in her head her entire life, a faceless jury that always found her guilty. She looked once more at her…