Tag: Fiction
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Airplane 3: Popped in Flight
It would end with a dull pop. Almost certainly followed by the staccato sound of five pops one after another. And that would be the end of me. Unless they used a taser. In truth, my fate would depend on the cabin pressure. Or the altitude. Or the crew’s response. Or the air marshall’s. Maybe,…
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Disasters’R’Us
“You don’t know do you?” My new workmate Jocelyn had turned pale. I’d just told her about my weekend trip. I shook my head. “A tsunami alert has been issued for Cairns,” she said. “What the…” I’d wasted my morning attending orientation courses, meeting managers, stakeholders, etc, the usual first day shenanigans. “Gotta make a phone…
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The Cat that got the Ice Cream
“They,” the cat delivery girl said. “Put. Her. Next. To. Two Crates of Ice Cream.” She was crying. And now Daddy looked sad. Then I thought that’s why Daddy brought me along. Because I could help Fluffy. Fluffy would be scared and cold. Because Fluffy would be wishing she was curled up in my…
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You Said You’re Sorry
“Say you’re sorry,” Julie said. Ally, hands on hips, leaned closer: the better to shake her curls in her sister’s face. Julie blew the curls away with a raspberry. “Say it, say, it, say it,” she persisted. Ally stepped back. “Well. I’m. Sorry,” she said. “That’s not the way to apologise,” her Dad began. But…
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My Username Change
“Hi, I’m calling you back regarding your new username.” “Why thank you,” she trilled. “I’ve changed it from your old surname to your new one.” It was then I chose to become extra customer focussed. “Congratulations! When was the big day?” Silence. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. I’m out here. “It’s already passed,” she…
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Tapestry Maker
I want to hear the tapestry that is your conversation I want to weave quietly the threads between your words I want to sew together the phrases spoken I want to discern the thoughts you’ve left unspoken. Even if I never draw closer to that which you would’ve rather have left broken.
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Resigned to Staying
The mobile purred. A sleepy finger reached out and pressed answer. “Thought I’d phone in this week’s postcard from afar.” “Lee, I can barely hear you. You sound like you’re croaking it in a drainpipe.” “Only line in town, boss.”
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The Beckoning
“I don’t know why I’m even telling you this,” she says. To the stranger over the phone. At last it has begun for her. Though of course it is over for me.
