
A Series of Dots 01-03 | Gaynor Jones
I talk to writer Gaynor Jones about entering and judging flash fiction competitions. Gaynor also reads two competition-winning pieces: ‘It Was the Horse That Killed Her’ by Matt Kendrick, and her own:…
I talk to writer Gaynor Jones about entering and judging flash fiction competitions. Gaynor also reads two competition-winning pieces: ‘It Was the Horse That Killed Her’ by Matt Kendrick, and her own:…
Imagine this. You are wandering without maps in the dark forest as twilight creeps in. You are sinking in the snow of a Siberian wasteland. You are drowning in an underwater cave.…
On the bus to her mother’s funeral, and Maizie forgot to bring money. No point to turn back now. Already Ohio. Maizie has no credit card and no friends to text for…
I do my best to smooth the duvet, its creases swirling like milk hitting coffee. The body in the bed isn’t helping. The dead woman’s beads – borrowed, amber, still warm –…
We sit cross-legged on the polished parquet floor, the teachers on red plastic chairs at the ends of our rows. We chat quietly to our neighbours while we wait for the headmaster.…
As soon as April had a handle on the alphabet, her parents delegated her education to books. On her fifth birthday, they chucked an unwrapped dictionary at her and instructed, No more…
The doctor’s sentences pulse with medical terminology. His voice sounds distant and distorted by the pumping of blood through my ear drums. The room begins to spin. Here comes the familiar onset…
When I visit my sister in Summer, she says she wants to be the farmer who tills rapeseed, the crow that flies low over him, says she wants to be the woman…
Bryan, parting the Perspex fronds of a 7-eleven refrigerator unit, doesn’t see Nora approach. But his bones quiver as he fetches the milk. Plastic strips down a back, straggle-bun, plaid shirt half-tucked…
A bee is on the tarmac going slow for sugar. She tells him bees are yawnsome. I mean, look how they surrender after just one sting, she says, and wearing those identical…
When Mother died I got together with Shauna and she was everything Mother was but possibly better. She didn’t need face creams, nor a forearm when going down steps, and she didn’t…
In this episode I read seven connected flashes about one man’s struggle with his daily commute, entitled ‘The Commuter’. If you have a similar collection of flashes and would like to read them…