short fiction
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Each morning for breakfast Flick orders a cup of black coffee with a piece of sweet egg-toast. Today, for the first time, the two sisters in the cafe were friendly. Their eyes crinkled with joy, and they asked him if he was enjoying his morning. ‘What’s wrong with you two?’ he said. ‘Every day I…
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I put my book on the sand, lay back, and looked up at the clouds sliding across the sky. At the edges, they swirled like ink in water. After a while, these movements began to have an unsettling effect on me. I felt as if gravity might suddenly fail; that the earth would lose its…
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Steven, it’s Jodie. I just wanted to see if you’re coming to the party Saturday. Jodie, hi. I’d forgotten it was this weekend. It’s come round quickly, hasn’t it? I’m quite busy Saturday. I’d really like to come, though. Would it be okay if I got there later in the evening? Yes, sure. You can…
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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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‘What if someone sees?’ I said. He told me not to worry. ‘No one here cares,’ he said. I wasn’t convinced. A man with a dog was walking at the water’s edge, headed in our direction. I sat up. ‘Can we wait?’ I said. ‘Just till he’s passed?’ ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘I recognise him.…
Barry Lee Thompson 