Fresh Start
By Mark Burrow
- 967 reads
Love Shapes
I met a man with tattoos in a pub who told me that love is shaped like an English poppy. I laughed in his face. “A poppy? What kind of idiot are you...
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- 1040 reads
An Imperial Man
The fare gazed out the back of the cab as we crossed the Thames, eyes fixed on the night black water. At first, I thought the tranny would be chatty and bubbly like they were on TV or in panto.
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- 927 reads
Tina
I caught this boy, Dan, gawping at my ankle chain in a maths class once… I was like, “Oi, Noncy Nonce, stop perving at me.” Everyone was cracking up...
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- 933 reads
The Riots
The news showed footage of shop windows being smashed. Cars tipped on their sides and set alight. Rioters lobbed stones and bottles at the police. A...
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- 2724 reads
Pan Out
It was a Friday night. I stood in the kitchen, thinking about a drink. I had been off booze for six weeks. Quitting was not easy. I had wanted to go...
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- 2513 reads
All Architects Are Called Zach (Part 1, words 1,838)
Freddy walked into his local. The door hadn’t swung shut behind him when he clocked the heads angling in his direction.
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- 605 reads
All Architects Are Called Zach (Part 2, words, 1,756)
The sun was bleeding. A boy and girl were sitting in the stairwell of the flats, whispering together. They were the only people he had seen since being refused entry to the last pub.
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- 714 reads
All Architects Are Called Zach (Part 3, words, 1,376)
Drink and food were dad’s priorities. His appetites governed the flat. Freddy watched his dad in the kitchen, pouring beer into a thin glass and then checking the oven to see what was for dinner.
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- 462 reads
All Architects Are Called Zach (Part 4, words 1,533)
Outside, standing on the balcony, Freddy looked at several pigeons strutting about on the ground below, pecking at a discarded box of chicken and chips.
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- 671 reads
Tinder
Every kid likes to start a fire. For Christian Cumberbatch, fires went beyond a bit of fun.
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- 1201 reads
You say one thing
As I lay here now, thinking about that night, I wonder about myself. How I let what happened happen.
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- 5 comments
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- 1599 reads
What's Playing On Your Mind?
(Words 1795)
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- 1144 reads
Mud Pie's Revenge
MUD PIE'S REVENGE Joshua Preece unbuttoned his Agnes B shirt and dropped it onto the tiled bathroom floor. He looked at his white fat stomach. He...
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- 1110 reads
Namaste
I know I should try counting to ten,
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- 8 comments
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- 1897 reads
For Bob
Dead on a bench at 38.
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- 11 comments
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- 2278 reads
Shrinkage
Breaking the monotony of lifting boxes
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- 1135 reads
Ticking
The owner of the restaurant, Pete, fired Darren for arguing with a customer. Darren was adamant he did nothing wrong.
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- 9 comments
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- 1550 reads
Not too Much to Ask
Some blokes, they dream about free climbing El Capitan, cycling the alps, taking their family to Disney World or Disneyland. Not me.
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- 2760 reads
The Careers Teacher
Mrs Darwish, the manageress, was standing behind the main desk flicking through papers.
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- 23 comments
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- 5223 reads
The Things We Do for Love
Pyser walked along a beach at dawn. He heard the cries of an injured seagull. It was entangled in strips of plastic. The seabird’s left wing seemed broken.
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- 1543 reads
No Eagles Allowed
Darren and Kelly were sitting in a pub near Brighton station, sharing a plate of dim sum. “Do you know what I hate about Russian dolls?” he said.
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- 3384 reads
The Boy with Tight Underpants
After all these years, I still see myself as Tight Pants.
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- 4524 reads
Fairground
“Passports,” said the man from behind a row of tables. We shuffled along. Farther back, by a wall, soldiers watched us going by, one by one. Their berets, khaki uniforms and Russian assault rifles clashed with our tie-die trousers, hats, bracelets and beads.
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- 1533 reads
Pigeon Variations - Ch 1 - Control
There was this itching sensation swarming over Pyser. He knew something was wrong with him. It went under the skin. Into his blood stream.
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- 2603 reads
Pigeon Variations - Ch 4 - Hero Grill Chef
The hotplate was vicious. Pyser had a shift with Phil one night. Phil was doing the usual. Two greasy wooden sticks to flip strips of chicken, pork, beef, fish, whatever the customers had given them in a bowl to cook.
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- 2545 reads
Dayroom Conversation
It was the girls who starved themselves at school. Never the boys. No-one could explain why.
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- 4662 reads
The Grizzling
Anne scrunched up a wet flannel and pressed it against my eye. The coldness made me flinch.
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- 3161 reads
Death of a Power Station
The four giant chimneys stick up like the legs of a table turned upside down. Smoke used to billow out of those stacks. Thick black plumes rising into the sky.
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- 4153 reads
Danger Mouse
The outsourced HR lady had a mole on her cheek and I swear it expanded as the videocall went on. “We appreciate all the hard work you’ve done for us and we’ve really considered every option available. This hasn’t been an easy decision.”
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- 3866 reads
Minefield
Too close to the playground. I told Pete we needed to stay by the garages, near our block of flats, but he never listened. We got spotted by the older boys who hung about by the swings.
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- 14 comments
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- 2000 reads
Pie Chart Man
Pie Charts have been with me from the very beginning. When my father held me up as a baby, I tinkled in his face and this single act generated a bubbly 17% wedge of happiness.
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- 22 comments
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- 3960 reads