Archives de catégorie : Flash-fiction

With absolutely no forethought or conscious knowledge of wanting such a thing, I walked into a pet store in my neighbourhood, one I’d never really noticed before and happened to be passing, on my dawdle home and bought a goldfish. … Lire la suite →

The click of the seatbelt is the start of the misery. The brooding. The automatic pilot. The get me through this repetitive, mind-numbing BULLSHIT. First stop. Five on. I always count. It’s become a thing. Gives my rotting brain a … Lire la suite →

Seatbelt clicks. First stop. Five on. I always count, it’s become a thing. Gives my rotting brain a little something to do. Counting passengers. Woo wee! Well it’s one of the tricks. Then there’s the coffee runs when you’re ahead … Lire la suite →

“Watch your step, sir.” “I’ll watch my fucking step, you fucking prick!” “Doors are closing.” “Yeah, fuck you.” Some dirty old vagrant drunk, still muttering as he shuffled to the back of the bus. You don’t let a guy like … Lire la suite →

One thirty. Pitch black outside and here in my room, too. It’s been warm enough to keep the window open in the evenings now and the only sound is a bit of whistle from the wind and the odd car … Lire la suite →

Her name was Chrissy Lee. She was twenty-nine years old and she worked at an office downtown. An office that handled the sales of office supplies, which she thought was ironic and funny in a disdainful sort of way. Paperwork. … Lire la suite →