Flash Fiction

Betty’s (March 2011)
“People used to call me Jodie’s shadow. Half the time it was him following me, but that didn’t matter to no-one, cause Jodie was the one people noticed first… ” read more

Gooseberries (May 2011)
“There is a smell. It’s faintly familiar and it triggers in him some deep instinct for revulsion, as if it might have signified something vital and awful in a previous life. He remembers feeling the same way when McBrearty made the class burn crushed animal bones. Then, the bitter fumes clung to his blazer for two weeks…” read more

And For My Next Trick (February 2011)
“Every time Bernard walks onto a stage, the crowds get thinner and less readily impressed. They think they’ve seen it before: white rabbits, top hats and sequins. Old-school stuff. He could tell them that they’re wrong, that – think what they like – they’ve never seen this. He could tell them this is real. But, of course, that in itself would be old-school…” read more

The Rack (August 2012)
“Meat had become myth. We were raised on tales of steak and chips, battered fish, hog roast, ham hock. We grew up dreaming of dripping, gravy, rendered fat. Animals dead and tender on a plate that we’d never even seen living…” read more

The First Foot (December 2012)
“McLean was lying on top of the dinner table, on his back, feet flat, knees in the air. His breath was a rapid pant: wheezing in, moaning out. The two German Shepherds crouched beneath the table, dribbling into the shagpile…” read more

The Pighouse (January 2011)
 “The Pighouse had on its door a padlock the size of Dad’s hand and its one window was boarded and painted over. It was a squat round building made of bricks and slate and half-shrouded by green moss and ivy. Connie imagined it had been there for so long that it was turning into a little hill…” read more

Treading Water (April 2011)
“Marta never wanted to be anything. When she was fifteen, taking a GCSE Economics paper, she came to the realisation that, not only did she not care about finishing the exam in the allotted time, she didn’t care whether or not she walked out of the room at the end of it. She and her paper could ignite and turn into ash. She didn’t care…” read more

The Kids (March 2010)
“The kid stood, stooped, just inside the threshold. His hair hung over his eyes and his lips and chin were flecked with sores. Gaston found himself behind the counter again, watching the crooked adolescent idly fingering the merchandise. Now there were two more of them. And now four…” read more