Flash Fiction(4)


A Home By The Sea

Upholstered against the elements in scarf and overcoat and with a battered trilby perched on his head, Richard sets off on his afternoon walk. He crosses carefully at the zebra and walks up onto the promenade, where the café in the ornamental gardens is open but untroubled by customers. Seated by the window, he stares out over the windswept veranda. Many years ago he'd spent his honeymoon...Read On



Alex had seen enough. He paused the footage, captured on his recently installed camera and gazed at the frozen features of his wife and Tony Greenwood. The man he'd decided to kill. It was Monday. His wife had left early for her job in the production office of Docklands. As he sipped tea and ate toast, Alex glanced through the morning mail. Two letters caught his attention. One was a...Read On


Heroes Of The Revolution

The past has a long memory

All the familiar landmarks, on her route to work, lay hidden under a blanket of pristine snow. Asya stared moodily through the window. 'Why was her husband so often in a bad mood?' He was forever criticising her appearance and housekeeping and worst of all, on several nights every week, he would drink excessively and become abusive.   Beneath a snow filled sky, Oleg Mitkova stepped...Read On


Opportunity Knocks

I have many reasons to be cheerful on this sunny Friday morning. In fact, the only cloud on my horizon is my husband, Alex. He seems reluctant to leave for work and keeps on drifting in and out of my workroom. "You haven't forgotten about tonight, have you darling?" Here he comes again, reappearing like Banquo's ghost. Alex is the senior partner in the second largest accountancy firm in...Read On

Micro Fiction(7)


Buzz Cut

"Yes, I'm certain that's what I want," I explained to the girl with peroxide curls. "But it's for boys." She took in my jeans, shiny boots and check shirt, while in the mirror I saw my girlfriend look up from her fashion magazine. "You're such a pretty girl too." The stylist sounded defeated, like a child who has watched the sea sweep away the last of their sandcastle. With a sigh,...Read On


Feeding The Tribe

My phone buzzes receipt of grandmother's supermarket list. I go in search of my keys and my mask. "Where you goin'?" My four year old wants to know. "Shopping hun. Take care of Daddy." "Want to come too." "Can't babe." "Why?" "Coronavirus." The roads are deserted, the parking lot isn't.  'I bet they don't  have half this stuff.' But I stalk the aisles like a hunter anyway. Then, on...Read On


Funeral Music

As the organist sounded the final chords of Be Still My Soul, Ruth's six grandsons rose from their seats. Together they raised her oak veneer casket aloft. Only Adam, her seventh grandson, remained seated, though he was not the youngest. Nobody gave him any attention as he sat alone on a bench. But, as his brothers and cousins prepared to carry their grandmother to join Grandpa Joshua in...Read On



That day he'd booked a table at my favourite restaurant. It was his usual way of saying sorry. Now, we stood in groups outside the church. I gathered condolences like confetti, each a brief flurry of contact then back to their lives. My mother said it would take time. Maybe years. I tugged the sleeves of my black dress down tight over my wrists. She would never know, that for me the...Read On



Look at that woman. How old before her time and careworn she is, like a refugee broken by years of strife. Dull hair, lank and untended stragglers her neck in untidy whisps. The full mouth, that once screamed a dangerous red, now tamed by an insipid cotton mask. Pale blue eyes still visible, though their mischievous gleam has gone. But what can you expect in days like these? So I...Read On


The Lake

Our group moved between the ancient statues before coming to a halt. "This is the sacred lake." Our guide paused for effect. "A place of pilgrimage for young women. Its waters were once thought to aid fertility." I viewed the rectangular body of dark water. It was an interesting nugget of information, though at the time having babies was not high on my agenda. But not wishing to...Read On



When it all started, 'we the people' objected. We called them an infringement on our liberty, a thief of identity. They were uncomfortable, unfriendly, and altogether alien in this land of the free. Then as time passed, we started to choose ones that reflected our mood, matched our outfits, made a statement. They became part of our identity. So much so, that when the danger passed,...Read On



Dark Music

Often lately, after he is spent And I drift, abandoned in the dark, I conjure you back, through the open door Of my restless mind, Where, in unison with my strong digits Your spirit fingers flash like fishes To strum and pick my viscous pearl, Until our mashed limbs thrash, like boats on a wave, And the rough dark music swells, to fill All the colours of the dark.  ...Read On



In furnished rooms on Rue d'Orsay Sun glints on our brass bed, Where spread, unclothed and hungry I stroke your raven head.   Come afternoon we skirt the Seine, Press hands in dark cafés, Grow fat on cake and fragrant tea Carried from far Cathay.    Each night the city gathers speed Beneath a map of stars, As we tangle limbs like dancers From paintings by Degas....Read On



If for an hour you do not fill my mind, I count the minutes wasted and am sad. This store of love for you I choose to find, In light of your disdain hath made me mad. For though my hopes remain earthbound and frail, And never can on gentle wings take flight. I fear my tissued dreams are marked to fail, Yet long for you to turn to me each night. Because your heart rests in another place,...Read On



A likeness only, though my love be real  Since first I gazed upon her flawless face, This country maid who bids my heart to feel   Though time may pass, no blemish can conceal The perfect object of my life's desire, A likeness only, though my love be real   To share some space with her is my ideal And watch her breasts so gently rise and fall, This country maid who bids my heart...Read On



The Dancer Who Dreamed He Could Fly

A song for Marc (1947 - 1977) Born To Boogie

"If fame is an illusion," said the Wizard to the Face, "The past is all confusion and now's the only place. From the earth to the September sky, Like a dancer who dreamed he could fly "The time has come," the Wizard said. " To get up on the stage. With your corkscrew mane and silver train, like a Botticelli sage." From the earth to the September sky, Like a dancer who dreamed he could fly....Read On


The Kisses And The Wine

'I cried for madder music and stronger wine' Ernest Dowson

On a bleak November day An empty beach, the tourists gone away, But the lights still dance along the promenade.   Pleasure boats with painted names Lie beached, until the summer comes again, While the fortress keeps a vigil on the shore.   The city sung it's siren song, Far too loud, for far too long And drew me to the kisses and the wine.   So as I look far out to sea And feel...Read On


You Should Have Asked Before

"If it sounds country, that's what it is; it's a country song..." Kris Kristofferson

Well hello, it's been a long time, But at least you know my name. So let's pass the time, with a glass of wine Like things were just the same. And it's really good to see you, But there's something you should know. So if that's all you really came here for, You should have asked before. The summer's gone and your world's turned cold, And you knew that I'd be here. Say what's on your mind...Read On