Category: Fiction
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Burgundy, Bolero and Chicken Supreme
Miranda had agreed to come round to Declan’s for dinner because she couldn’t think of anything better to do. Miranda and Declan worked at the same school, she taught French and Home Economics, he taught Science and P.E. The staff room rap was that Declan was a bit of a sleaze and that he tried…
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#fridayflash Tales of monsoon and adventure
She woke to the sound of the monsoon drumbeat and all she could think was ‘my sheets!’ She had left them on the washing line all night. She had stepped out into the garden before going to bed and the air was so starched linen clean that she’d stopped – the dusk against her cheeks…
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#Fridayflash Origami Flamingos
This relates to a previous flash Close Encounters with Goldfish. That’s the trouble with origami flamingos, they crumple under duress. Exotic-pathetic. I needed something with a little more resilience, like the steel ties you put inside hardening concrete. ‘Pipe cleaners’ said my nephew Gary. ‘Good idea’ I said, thinking somehow of Dali’s elephants. There was…
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#Fridayflash Pre-determination
Have you ever watched an ant crawling across the floor? Of course you have. Did you wonder where it was going to end up? Did you wait for it to find that crumb or sugar crystal and pick it up in its paws or its mouth or whatever it uses. Then did you amuse yourself…
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#Fridayflash Some other platform
Do you remember that night in Crewe? Of course you don’t, you weren’t there. I was carrying you in a small space behind my chest at the time. It was like I had a second heart the same as Dr. Who. And I come from Gallifrey too. So far away, can never go back, the…
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#Fridayflash Woman-Son
Woman-Son When the woman had the baby boy she lay him down to sleep. He held her finger in his fist She roars him into being. He emerges from the earth in unbridled anger, consternation. The moon hung in velvet. The clock was a cheap one bought in a pound store. It tock ticked. Then…
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#FridayFlash Flash
Some characters from two weeks ago asked for another outing. Emily and Eddie were baiting lightning on the quay, and it was forked. Across the bay the flashes lit up midnight townlands in isolated glimpses as if God with torches was looking for his keys in the eternal driveway. Here. There. This way a bit.…
Alison Wells Author 