“When my boys were young, it was a story I loved to tell. Throughout their childhood, teen years, and even into their twenties, my children appreciated this tale from my childhood and laughed along with me in all the right places …”
We’re not sure if this piece by Linda Bowes is fiction or memoir, but it’s pretty sticky. Read Marmalade Sandwiches>>
It’s been too long since we posted some flash fiction here – apologies, we’ve got a bit of a backlog. Anyway, here’s some blue soup from Elizabeth Stott – but rest assured, Bridgit Jones it isn’t. It’s A for Alice>>
Perhaps inspired by the current vogue for open studio days, when artists welcome the public into their workspaces, Anna King has her canvas primed and ready and her pallet knife poised like an offensive weapon.
Read her paint-spattered, sharply rendered little tale, The Artist>>
Bob-a-job has been re-branded Scout Community Week, but Martin Chambers’ curmudgeonly yet likeable protagonist, Babbage, won’t know that and won’t much care. And he probably thinks the Big Society is some kind of exclusive bridge club.
A white mountain range rose in the distance and against that backdrop the caribou moved on and on. Then they vanished. Fred craned his neck as far as he was able but only the brick terrace across the road now filled his field of vision …
To celebrate National Short Story Day, here’s the second story in our monthly(-ish) series of new Cumbrian flash fiction, in which Sue Banister gives us a desperate housewife with knobs on. “It always began with the toast …”
In the first of this new series, Brindley Hallam Dennis is struggling to maintain his dignity in a department store on Remembrance Day. Lifts and lingerie both feature – never a good combination in real life, but fraught with fabulous possibilities in the realm of short fiction.