For some reason, Flash Fiction has worked for me this week, and I have had the least busy week in months! Take a look at some of the tiny stories I've created and let me know your favourites.
The capital letters in his name seemed too direct, too harsh; she didn’t intend those sentiments on this one final letter.
The presence of a lasagne cooking in the kitchen charged over as she entered her parents’ house, deep, welcoming, and appetite tempting… Something wasn’t right.
All night wasn't enough, morning came too soon.
The first orange on the tree gloated an ironic gleam as us that summer; fertile, bright and new.
I feel like the hunter but i'm looking for a place to hide.
All you had to do was stay.
He broke my finger that morning, and healed my heart.
Sequins and lace say more than flowers.
Say you'll see me again, and not just in the queue for unemployment benefit.
"I'm gone forever if I leave now", she said calmly through the cigarette smoke.
I've decided the love I gave away I want back, yesterday.
"Perambulate" - the first word I learned at university scared me beyond academically.
His warm hands closing around mine calmed trembling and promised all.
Champagne flutes played like tinnitus in my ears.
The bottles clanged like bells for Mass as Paulo wobbled down the footpath, ignoring his religious duties for the fourth Sunday in a row – he had better things to do, better things to drink.
"Sooo... three months in, Ana, how has marriage surprised you?" my sister prompted.
Drip, drip, drip; the house had never sounded so lonely.
The crack in the window played a tune not unlike a U2 single – any U2 single – from Simon’s childhood; two decades ago, but still, the blood stained his conscious thought.
"We thought she'd be better off with second years - you can't gamble on who you'll meet in Freshers' Halls."
See you soon - busy weekend ahead so it may well be next week before I post here again, but why not come over to Born to be a Tourist and see what's been happening on my travel blog?
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Born to be a Tourist