Flash Fiction learning that the heart of writing is imagination + craft + editing.
Saturday, 27 June 2009
Gold diggers strike out
'Oh you must come round sometime,' she gushed—as she looked around for the £100,000 lottery winners.
He longed to whip out his diary, to see her squirm by taking it seriously. She quickly moved on leaving Bill chuckling. He was the £10,000,000 prizewinner who had ticked for no publicity.
Mothers
'I love ferns, they are so green and…er…feathery,'said Sally.The visit to Mark's mother was sinking. It wasn't just her being a cut price Barbara Cartland, it was the look-what-the-cat-has-dragged-in looks from behind the china teacup.
'Oh…my late husband loved them.'
Mark gave Sally's hand a triumphal squeeze.
So who butters your parsnips?
Ooh, my little sweet potato pie,
come to daddies' dumplings thigh.
Hmm, make my bacon spit
and pappy promises to commit.
Oh yeath, break out the biscuits,
and forgive the bad boy pursuits.
Phew baby, did your oven rumble,
this guy's gone so has to scramble.
Call me, whenever. Chow.
Tuesday, 23 June 2009
The Joys of Parenthood
'Ere mate give me a bleeding chance.' .....
.....Sir Sidney Smyth-Jones, looked over his bifocals
and asked, 'Why are you speaking like
some…some…' .....
.....At a loss, he turned to his manservant, who said, 'A
cockney geezer, sir.'
....'But it's all the go Pater.' .....
.....Yes… let us hope it keeps on going.'
A morning goodbye.
One person's evening
'Naughty traffic warden time,' Aggie said,
pushing up breasts that caused most men
to double clutch.She wondered if this got his
pistons firing- afterall a woman needed
her engine revving to stop misfires.
.....The car crash silence told it all. He was
clearly pressing the accelerator of
something sportier.
Two lives
In a stage circle, the broken child smiles,
her hands rise in a circle for Earth.
We stand to mirror and sing out
a song of joy that she guides,
not as a spoilt copy,
but a divine spark
like you and me.
The nightmare
now a
dream.
Gasp.
Whimper
Her last sounds
as gas hisses.
Condemned as corrupt-
a threat to purity.
Sterilised and removed.
No, not by Nazis fanatics,
they only strengthen the solution.
We had the kindness to merely discard.
Monday, 22 June 2009
Dine as King's do
Bread and God
Beware of the inner man
Saturday, 20 June 2009
Walls have ears
The best time may be now
When you don’t get it
I don’t get hummingbirds, all flutter and bill
I don't get humans, all crunch and still
I don’t get hummingbirds, why like bees?
I don’t get humans, why like trees?
I don’t get hummingbirds, they smell
I don’t get humans, they sell
Who cares we know who is clever
Whatever
Don't come aknocking unless you want to come in
Thursday, 18 June 2009
Love’s gamble
I have turned around my life,
to take a pledge, to be true for
always. A last time of lies to us,
except we hear an empty “love us”.
The promise of a perfect TV life,
with scripted smiles performed for
neighbours. You’ll come back but for
secret excitement stolen from us
before leaving to mirage life.
Where was the loving life for us?
First times don’t always come
Saturday, 13 June 2009
Well nobody’s perfect
The man in the Hawaiian shirt just stared.
Rather rude I thought given our night out.
I mean we had met in the bar,
for drinks and he flirted first.
Yes, I had worn a dress
with nice stud earrings
and it was dark,
but a beard
is a
beard.
Friday, 12 June 2009
Waiting
.....'I sing on the days that are good and dance on those that are bad. He left me at the Cottonwood tree when the leaves rattled. The baby burned inside and stayed as I screamed for its smile. So I sing and dance until the leaves rattle, waiting his return.'
Blind Date
I hate beach sun,
on Whitsun leave
where fun means skin,
to chagrin, fries.
Instead, I want shade and raided libraries.
What can you say
when midday in
Biscay is cold
as cuckold love.
And heaven is sharkskin tan in blowtorch cove.
Who knew too late the date was fate?
A lost encounter
Plea Bargaining
I sat down and ate my last almond nut.
The first clue was my face swelling up.
Ma said, ‘Was I dumb dumb or what?’
The sharp response failed to come-
my throat kinda got stuck,
along with my breath.
So this was death.
Well not yet.
Is it?
Please?
Thursday, 11 June 2009
When you have to be alone
They don’t always forget
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
Careful what you start
It was feeling so tired and stretched.
.....‘A meme is like a virus,’ Roger explained
.
..... ‘For real, said the little boy?
.....‘No, it’s just a way of speaking. You can
post the first message.’
.....And so it grew and grew
...................................*
Grown-up, Mark pressed the button that wrestled the internet back.
Winners don’t always come in first
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