Category Archives: microfiction

The Auctioneer and the Career-Ending Comma #microcosms

Philip Ribbault disliked auctioning Japanese erotic carvings. It was like waiting for the second boot to drop; as soon the artistically-crafted genitals were paraded in front of the bidders you waited for the stifled snigger or suppressed snort. Until his … Continue reading

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Life And Art Are Pale Imitations Of Reality #microcosms #flashfiction

Sage Wintergreen turned to the last page; the bedroom scene. She screwed her eyes shut. She should have demanded a no nudity clause, no touching even. ‘Ms Wintergreen?’ The stewardess, Mary said the badge, leant over. Sage settled her face … Continue reading

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How WWII made strange bedfellows of Donald Tweeb and Adolf Hitler

Donald Tweeb was weedy, disposed to bursts of irrational anger, and resembled an Austrian painter. Like many he wanted to do his bit, as long as it was a little bit. At a recruiting day a pipe-smoking Yorkshireman pulled him … Continue reading

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In Which A Possessed Can Of Beans Explodes, Contributing To The Gaiety Of Nations #microcosms

Timothy whistled. Not much of a tune and no real power but a definite whistle. Lori Perchance opened the Health & Safety box extracting the Rod and the Staff and headed for the shortbread tin. She caught a glimpse of … Continue reading

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On The Edge Of A Raindrop

I don’t promote many books but this is by the consummate writer of flash fiction, Sarah Brentyn. If you don’t know Sarah’s work but enjoy quality flash and micro fiction, go buy it, or rather get it as it’s free … Continue reading

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In Its Shadow #microcosms #flashfiction

Flies, by the score. That was what stopped him; a dark midden hanging in the air, staining his view. Officer Barnes switched off the engine. He waited until the last bit of chilled air lost its battle with the sun … Continue reading

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Hartley and Mrs Scroop: A Marrow Made In Heaven #microcosms #shortfiction

Vicar/pastor, rural parish, crime The Reverend Hartley Scroop bent slowly and stroked his marrow. ‘Come on beauty. Just give me a little more.’ Over the fence his neighbour listened to the blandishments with scorn. Rupert Penfold had won best marrow … Continue reading

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