Category: Microfiction

He had watched too much of life pass him by. He knew he could be spiky with people. He knew that sometimes he lashed out when someone showed him love, pushing them away when they got too close. He couldn’t help it. He could never trust that their intentions were good. He had seen too…

“What if I fail?” A shrug. “So what if you do?” Silence. Time ticked by as it waited to be filled. “Everyone might laugh at me. Talk about me behind my back.” A shrug. “So what if they do?” Silence. Time ticked by as it waited to be filled. “It could affect my reputation. It…

She kept a sharp eye on the weather forecast, dreading the arrival of storm Floris. Not because of the risk to her fences. She had reinforced those last year. It was the risk to her cherry trees, heavy with blossom, their vivid pinks almost unnaturally bright. They filled her heart with joy. The morning the…

“What are you doing here?” She blew across the top of a mug of fresh coffee, looking all too comfortable in a kitchen that wasn’t hers. “I thought I’d stay.” She took a sip and sighed. “Seriously. Is there anything better than coffee?” “Where is he?” She flicked her eyes towards the ceiling. “Upstairs.” She…

She gravitated towards the museum. Not because of the paintings with their rich textures or the sculptures with their smooth, cold lines. Because of the moths. She walked past the glass cabinets, gazing at their hypnotic, symmetrical beauty. The rosy maple moth made her think of raspberry ripple ice cream. The luna moth made her…

At first she ran to support a friend, accompanying on her on longer and longer runs until her body grew accustomed to the rhythm of her breath. Her muscles grew stronger, craving movement. Then she ran for her own personal challenges. Faster and longer, doing things her younger self would never have believed possible. Then…

“What’s your favourite smell?” “Cut grass.” “Baking bread.” “Mum’s perfume.” “Burnt toast.” They all turned to look at her. “Burnt toast? Why?” She remembered the time her dad made them all breakfast when their mum was in hospital. She thought of the eggs stuck to the pan and the blackened crusts cut off the toast…

She always chose to walk the long way home through the cemetery. Where others found an uneasiness that made the hairs on their arms stand up straight even on a warm day, she found solace and comfort in the sun-dappled silence. She would pick out a name on one of the headstones and invent their…

They had learned to hide in plain sight. It was clear that humankind repeated its errors. That it told the same stories over and over, just with a different cast of characters. And it was time for the eyes of fear to turn their gaze on them once again. And so they hid. They hid…

“The game was awesome dad! I gave 110%!” A snort from the armchair. His brother’s face obscured behind a book. “What are you laughing about?” The book lowers. “You. You’re the master of linguistic inflation.” “What did you call me?” “I didn’t call you anything. You’re just devaluing words. Awesome should inspire fear or exultation.…