Archives for My Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction: ‘An Apple Five Ways: 1/Hers’

She gets on the number 45 and sits upstairs. He sits down so he can see when she gets off. In town they cross the road to the station. The ticket machine is out of order and he is pleased, he prefers talking to a person. He stands in line behind her. She buys a return ticket to London, so does he. On the train, he sits two rows away. It’s a bit close but she may make a telephone call on her mobile and he needs to hear. She could be arranging to meet someone. He sits with his good ear facing her, she sits looking at her phone, typing. But there is no call. At Waterloo he waits outside M&S, studying a poster about Kew Gardens. She re-appears, carrying a small green bag. Her lunch. He has no food, didn’t expect to be gone for long. He can’t go into a shop now, and risk losing her. Really he just wants to touch her, but he knows this is not possible. He is frightened she will disappear on contact, like the time he looked at his reflection in the pond at Wisley. He dropped to his knees to
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Categories: My Flash Fiction.

Flash Fiction: Consequences

That’s it. The clock tower? Uh-huh. The building at which the man was pointing disappeared as their pod went behind a wide white steel upright. Father and son were on a big wheel beside a river. Each time it completed a rotation, the wheel passed a derelict building, a pile of bricks except for a wall standing prone and leaning slightly to the right. Just visible was a faded advertisement hoarding which said ‘Queue here for London Eye tickets’. So why did you bring me here? Because of what it symbolises, because it’s important for you to understand. Silence. Come on, think about it. You did history at school. Yeh, Mr Gayle’s class. I know the Government used to be in London before it moved to Norwich. And? And… something to do with the final war? Yes, in that building the politicians decided to go to war. That was the beginning of it all. If they’d listened to the people… we didn’t want it, we demonstrated. But it was democratic then, right? So the people elected the Government. Which sounds cool, I mean, I’d like to do that when I’m old enough. But then Mr Gayle said it was crazy
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Categories: My Flash Fiction.

Flash Fiction: ‘Chairs Chairs Chairs’

It is just before nine. She takes her time clearing the tables, the ones outside in the dark alley between the Royal Festival Hall on one side and the railway arches on the other. The sun won’t reach here until lunchtime. The alley has quietened, the rush to work is drawing to a close and the queue at the coffee counter for ‘to-go’s’ numbers only two. She prefers clearing tables to serving at the counter. Outside, only one table is occupied. The same table, every morning. She watches him, without seeming to. Arranged in front of him are pencil, notebook, ruler, pencil sharpener and eraser. She straightens chairs as he arranges his possessions at precise angles to each other. Into the tableau he adds his silver phone, a used and re-folded napkin, large coffee mug and plate with crumbs of almond croissant. She knows his routine. Every time she is on the morning shift, he is here. It’s as if he gets a copy of the week’s timesheet when the manager pins it on the noticeboard every Sunday evening. He sits now and looks into nothing, studying the blank paper as if it tells him the meaning of life. He
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Categories: My Flash Fiction.

Flash fiction: Migraine, again*

Cochineal, crimson, carmine. Scarlet, vermilion, madder, magenta. Justine’s head was so full of red hot pain and every shade of red was there. Blood red, fresh and dried. Cherry Coke. London bus red. Chanel Rouge red. English postbox red. When she woke, she was sitting in the dark beside the studio window. Her headache was gone, her head felt tender and vulnerable as it always did after pain. Outside the London sky was dense black, the February clouds hiding the stars. Upstairs, Tinkerbell rang. © Sandra Danby If you like flash fiction, read these stories:- The Ten Questions Left or Right Redbreast/Before * excerpt from Connectedness, second in the ‘Identity Detective’ series, to be published in 2017. First in the series, ‘Ignoring Gravity’ is available now. ‘Ignoring Gravity’ by Sandra Danby [UK: Beulah Press] Buy now And if you’d like to tweet a link to THIS post, here’s my suggested tweet: Justine’s headache includes every shade of red: MIGRAINE, AGAIN #flashfiction via @SandraDanby http://wp.me/p5gEM4-qd
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Categories: My Flash Fiction and My Novel: 'Connectedness'.