After more than two weeks of 50-word stories, I thought I’d combine a couple to expand into a longer piece.
If you are interviewing grieving parents in their cramped Victorian living room, try not to knock a photo of their dead teenage daughter off the mantelpiece.
The vacuum whine woke him every morning.
She met him once in the communal hallway to apologise, her son lingering behind a haircut.
Unused swings wobble in the breeze. An disheveled man, can in hand, chases a pigeon, staggering, burning fury in his bloodshot eyes. The taunting bird hops in a large circle until, bored, it hauls itself […]
The Union flag stood tall in scruffy gardens, thrashed violently on the aerials of speeding white vans, draped lazily across windows of now-darkened pubs. Victory. The windswept rock was cleansed, thanks to one woman, in […]
Mum’s birthday today, don’t forget. Swipe to clear. Huge earthquake in Bangladesh. Swipe to clear. Police hunt for missing toddler in Derby. Swipe to clear. I love you. Swipe to clear. 86 dead in suicide […]
Aika shut out the world, gripped the scissors in her right hand and cradled the baby’s head in her left. Her training had prepared her for this and yet her heartbeat was deafening, her breath […]