Tag Archives: microcosms

It Doesn’t Matter What You Do So Long As You Dress The Part #flashfiction #microcosms

Margery Strool opened the door with her hip, her hands full.  The Prime Minister’s Office seemed empty. ‘Gerald?’ Where the hell was he? ‘You wanted a word about tactics for the meeting with the POTUS and…  Oh shit, no.’ Gerald … Continue reading

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Never Trust A Man Who Knows His Pasta #microcosms #flashfiction

Melanie said he has a face for voice-overs but I said I thought him handsome. Rugged I said but she she’d seen turkeys with tighter jaws and in profile she thought him a touch scrotal. He was very nice to … Continue reading

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The Little House On Fifth #microcosms #flashfiction

Fifth Avenue apartments were the plum cleaning jobs. All on one level, lift accessible, and no one about to get in the way. So why had Marita been given this assignment? The slip said the owner was Red Ballantyne. She … Continue reading

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The Impossible Art Of Soldiering On #microcosms #flashfiction

The Impossible Art Of Soldiering On Geraldine ran a finger round the stiff collar. The VAD uniform wasn’t made for comfort. She felt eyes on her and glanced at number fourteen. Mrs Ephram shuffled out of her door; she nodded … Continue reading

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There’s Always A Risk Of Flooding #microcosms #flashfiction

‘Mr. Martens?’ Harold Martens started, momentarily lost in his thoughts. ‘Yes?’ The questioner’s tone hardened. ‘Could talk us through the operation from your perspective? Why you did what you did? For Mrs. Golding.’ ‘Golding?’ Left knee. Impact damage. Reconstruction. He … Continue reading

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When Holding On Is All You Can Do

The clap on the shoulder felt sincere enough. ‘Captain.’ Jack Reynolds oiled his smile. ‘Like the old days, eh?’ Harrison eased back, not trusting a reply. Reynolds straightened his jacket, skipping into the lights, accepting the applause. Same slime-ball, Harrison … Continue reading

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Banter, Bunty And The Tale Of The Premature Inhalation #flashfiction #microcosms

Saturday Cousin Bunty is up before the College beak for spying. Aunt Emilia blames me, per Bunty for ‘marinading him in socialism’. I had to ask Banter what that meant – something to do with stews. Bit of a dampener, … Continue reading

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