short fiction
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Although he hadn’t been asleep, Michael felt rested and much calmer. The room was still and peaceful, and lit by a bleed of sunlight around the edges of the curtains. He was lying on his front, and he turned his head and looked across the bed, into the mirror in the wardrobe door. Just behind…
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The night before I travelled home, you asked me if I’d confirmed the taxi to pick me up and take me to the airport in the morning. ‘No. I’d better check,’ I said. You watched as I dialled the cab company. The call was very confusing to me. They were too quick to say that…
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The night before I travelled home, Sioux asked me if I’d confirmed the taxi to pick me up and take me to the airport in the morning. ‘No. I’d better check,’ I said. He watched as I dialled the cab company. The call was very confusing to me. They were too quick to say that…
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I try to change the subject. I talk to her about the beach – a place she likes to be. She once told me she’d like to die on the beach, in the sun, as people walk by. No one would really be sure if she were dead, or just sunbaking, she said. I told…
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She heard the key in the door, put the lid back onto the chocolate box, and licked her fingers. He came in and threw his jacket on the floor, took off his shoes, and slouched in the armchair. ‘How was it?’ she said. ‘Dan’s worse than ever,’ he said. ‘I don’t think he’s aware…
Barry Lee Thompson 