Category Archives: Micro Fiction

Gin

“Did you realise Deidre, that gin is little more than vodka with added flavours?” said Lars.

(He was the new barman)

Deidre didn’t realise.

She slurred, “Am-alergit-te-too–mudge-voka!”

Lars immediately felt the job wasn’t for him.

 

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Beachworld

 

footprints cislandAs you stare; stop looking… for answers on every wave, and under the tiring sun that lowers into its new water bed: forever creased. Each nearing roll of surf perpetually attends to the beach where you wander; reaching out and soaking, smoothing scars of soft land and human hand, from land loving creatures.

The bubbling roar of white noise; rising and dipping in volume; teasing your ears into hearing frequencies from lost radios stations: faulty and alluring. Every time this happens something is taken from you, soon replaced by a specific space to lighten your walk inland.

All this… as you stand, feet sucked by gooey miniature rocks that table gels of dead jelly fish; glistening like little brains of the sea; forced up upon confusion and violence from the mighty froths of wash.