HelloI’m Ben. I haven’t got a dog. There you go. A story in five words. Eat it Hemingway. Go to my about page for more on that breaking news.

Anyway, come for the flash fiction, stay for the sense of wonder at meaning derived from weird symbols on a screen. I was a sports journalist for 17 years before giving it up in December 2016 to chase the writing dream. What an idiot.

At the very least, I write flash fiction here, while working on a couple of longer projects that will hopefully one day help me feed my two kids. In the meantime, my Facebook page is here and if you want to contact me, try justpunchtheclock@yahoo.co.uk, or I’m @fictionalben on Twitter. Thanks for reading. If you like what I read, please hit ‘like’ – it means the world to know that my words have reached a stranger and not made them vomit.

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The Last of Logan – A Novella

I get pulled out of class, and as the howls of derision fade, each knock of Mr Beach’s walking stick on the floor of the deserted corridor escalates The Fear inside, so that by the time I see them sitting there in his office, smiling desperate smiles, I almost don’t notice the fact they are holding hands and so something awful has happened.