He’ll have to go. There’s nothing wrong with him per se, it’s just.
At primary school my group of friends and I gave each other animal nicknames. Mine
was the easy choice: giraffe, because I’m so tall. Always have been and although
puberty gave the others a chance to catch up, no-one ever did.
Recently I’ve started dating someone shorter than me. He doesn’t seem to mind, but
I think I do. I walk in the gutter when he’s on the pavement; stand on the lower step
of the escalator, to be harshly reminded of the difference when we get to the bottom.
There’s the age old “there’s no height difference when you’re lying down” (nudge,
nudge, wink, wink), but unlike ancient Romans who spent the majority of their time
lazing on divans, I’m not sure that’s enough.
‘Colin, we need to talk.’
Laura Besley
Flash Fiction Diary
This piece is semi-autobiographical. I am very tall, one of my nicknames at school was giraffe and I did one try dating a man shorter than me. It didn't work out, but not for those reasons!
I've decided to take part in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) again this year. The aim is to write 50,000 words towards a novel, or in my case towards a collection of short stories, within the month of November. That'll be kicking off next Friday. Hopefully I'll still have time to also keep the blog going, but I'm not sure I should make any promises...
