Fresh Start
By Mark Burrow
- 753 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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- 912 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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- 824 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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- 786 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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- 2133 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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- 2127 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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- 505 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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- 587 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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- 365 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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- 514 reads
Tinder
Every kid likes to start a fire. For Christian Cumberbatch, fires went beyond a bit of fun.
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- 1042 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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- 1381 reads
What's Playing On Your Mind?
(Words 1795)
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- 1066 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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- 1030 reads
More Chilli Sauce, Mate

What was Dorothy on about?
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- 9 comments
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- 1696 reads
Namaste

I know I should try counting to ten,
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- 8 comments
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- 1609 reads
For Bob

Dead on a bench at 38.
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- 11 comments
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- 1898 reads
Shrinkage

Breaking the monotony of lifting boxes
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- 937 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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- 1229 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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- 2069 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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- 3872 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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- 1255 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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- 2559 reads
The Boy with Tight Underpants

After all these years, I still see myself as Tight Pants.
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- 3723 reads
Assassin in My Village Supermarket

Buying scotch eggs and a pint of milk in my village supermarket,
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- 4637 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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- 8 comments
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- 1175 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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- 2086 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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- 2122 reads
Dayroom Conversation

It was the girls who starved themselves at school. Never the boys. No-one could explain why.
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- 28 comments
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- 3768 reads
The Grizzling

Anne scrunched up a wet flannel and pressed it against my eye. The coldness made me flinch.
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- 2255 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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- 2731 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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- 2852 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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- 1498 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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- 2639 reads