If I said I’d been on holiday, the next week he’d been somewhere more exotic.
Driven a nice car? He’d have driven one better.
His one-upmanship rankled.
So I told him I’d lost my job, dumped my girlfriend, and fallen down the stairs.
I never saw him again.Jon is an aspiring writer from the North West of England, currently working in Local Government, with a background in Newspaper Journalism. The best parts of his current job, which sadly lacks any creative stimulus, are lunchtime and hometime. And sometimes, at these times, he writes.
I didn’t get the warmest of welcomes when I started at the new branch. In fact, it was downright chilly!
Months passed before I discovered that Frank, my best work buddy and inveterate office joker, had phoned ahead to warn my new colleagues about my kleptomania and willful fire-raising tendencies.
Bill lives in Aberdeen, Scotland. He once flew in a UFO but was sworn to secrecy by the Men in Black.
“Hold still!” Mother chided, yanking impatiently at my corset lacing.
“Someday women won’t have to suffer these torturous contraptions!” I lamented.
“That’s absurd! Respectable gentlemen don’t wed thick-waisted ladies,” she retorted. “What’s next, women wearing trousers? Keep these fanciful notions to yourself, otherwise you’ll bring our good name into disrepute!”
Fee Johnstone is a managing editor of a medical journal who favors cats, cheese, and craft beer over most other things.
Archie entered the dark house, turned on the ballgame, and stretched out on the comfy couch for his nightly entertainment. After a long, grueling day at work, he relished this relaxing ritual. Who would dare bother him here?
When the game ended, he switched off the TV and headed home.
Lori Cramer writes prose of varying lengths, from Twitter fiction to novels. A fan of baseball, coffee, and dark chocolate, she lives in Pennsylvania. Find more at loricramerfiction.wordpress.com
Cinderella gazed awestruck as her fairy godmother turned the pumpkin into a gold and silver carriage. Two little mice became magnificent stallions. She gathered her skirts.
And as the footman, formerly a toad, helped her up the steps, she said “I just want to stay home and finish my book.”
Penny Jo McAllister is a freelance writer who enjoys books more than balls.
Margaret understood what was expected of her. She had been raised properly and was skilled in etiquette, poise, and all things ladylike and mature.
However, there was a certain satisfaction in watching the knife plunge repeatedly into the body of yet another lifeless, unappealing, and unsympathetic excuse for a turkey.
Hillary hopes you enjoy your holidays despite whatever sinister fantasy may surface.
She was lovely.
I felt like I really got to know her on that journey.
She spoke passionately; I mainly listened.
I felt she warmed to me.
Her purposeful words gave me a real sense of direction.
But falling in love with the SatNav girl was just another dead end.
Jon is from the northwest of England and has had many bumps in the road. He works in local government with a background in Newspaper Journalism. He likes writing short stuff and is inspired by all forms of flash and micro fiction.
Marcia stepped on the scales one last time. After two long weeks, the chances of this diet actually working appeared to be slim. She normally wasn’t one for resignation, but reality had begun to set in.
She should have known the “cupcakes only” diet was too good to be true.
“Any last requests?”
Flames licked the dragon’s scaly lips as she leered at the knight splayed beneath her talons.
“Just one.” The knight tossed his golden curls. “Try not to singe my hair.”
The notice hung from the cathedral gate:
Funeral Service Tonight
For Sir Primpsalot the Vain
Lady Devon the Thoughtful has never met a dragon but doubts one would be inclined to humor a pretentious knight.
Jack glanced around the office. As usual, everyone – including the cute girl from finance – was ignoring him.
Photocopiers hummed, water coolers bubbled. Jack took a deep breath and typed:
Mum, I’m sorry, I can’t cope any more. Goodbye forever.
Then he hit ‘send’ and walked away from his boss’s keyboard.
Mark Farley (mumbletoes.blogspot.com
) is attempting to write 1,000,000 words in 2016. Please wish him luck!