Hunger Pains
The only reason I was in that mad woman’s bedroom was because there wasn’t a scrap of food to be found anywhere else in the house. I was settling down for a nibble on some crisps she’d obviously dropped, when I heard her fling back the bed sheets. I panicked and thought if I sit really still she might not notice me. She swung her long tanned legs out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. She switched on the light – God, I hate it when they do that – and blinded me. But I didn’t let out a peep. I heard the tap run and she flicked the light off again. Was I safe? Standing only inches away from me, she switched on the bedside lamp. I was staring right into her blue eyes. As if in slow motion I knew what was going to happen; she let go of the glass and it shattered into a hundred pieces and the water splashed in my face. I needed to run and get out. I dropped all the food and scarpered. So, that’s why I’m late and have no food. Sorry.
God, Jerry, you’re useless.
L. Besley
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Flash Fiction is short enough to read whilst you're waiting for the kettle to boil. It's fairly quick to write too, but with it being so short, every word has to count.
On 4th May 2012 I decided to embark on a project: to write a piece of Flash Fiction every day. I'm hoping this will keep the creative juices flowing and ultimately help me hone my craft. Every Friday I'll be posting 'the best of the week' onto my blog for you to read. If you have anything to say (good or 'constructive'!), I'm open to comments.
Thanks, as always, for reading.
