Clive Martyn
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National Flash Fiction Day
What do Hemmingway, Kafka, Chekov and Lovecraft have in common? They all wrote Flash Fiction, short-short stories. The most poignant captured in just 6 words was penned by Ernest Hemingway. For sale: baby shoes, never worn. While there is nothing new about the short-short story, National Flash Fiction Day is being celebrated for the first time in … Continue reading
Recent Flash FIction
Gladys looked out the window from her favourite chair in the dining room. Number 46 hadn’t brought out their bins yet. She tutted loudly. “Those coloured people haven’t brought out their bins. Going to miss the collection. Again! Going to leave their stinky rubbish out on the curb. Again.” Out of the corner of her … Continue reading
I closed my eyes. Like a stubborn child I wanted to embrace the darkness that it offered; a brief respite from the terrible reality around me – engulfing me. I didn’t want to see the hearse ahead, the words spelt out in flowers, the wooden box cradled between polished silver clamps. If I couldn’t see … Continue reading
Death watched and waited, his fingers tapping on the glass of the bus shelter. The girl, huddled in a doorway, shivered. Alone on the streets, she no longer looked fourteen. Sadness had left lines on her young, tender face. Lines that shouldn’t be there. Each loss, each death, each beating had etched its pain upon her. Scars … Continue reading
The Ambassador was furious, the colour around his gills darkening noticeably to an angry blue. He pointed through the Embassy window at the mob of unemployed refinery workers, petrol station owners and car manufacturers protesting loudly, waving large banners written in their undecipherable language. “Is this the thanks we get?” he asked his Adjunct. “They do seem to be … Continue reading