If you like a short story, you might enjoy these ‘flash fiction’ tales
We’re big fans of flash fiction – especially, if you see our feature in our August issue, when you’re struggling to read right now.
Back in 2018, we asked you to write a 100-word flash fiction story on the theme of ‘summer’. And you did not disappoint. We’ve reprinted some of our favourites below. And, should you feel inspired, we’ve a new flash fiction competition with Seasalt launching in our September issue – watch this space.
The five-second flight by Kirsty Boswell
“Go long!” he yelled. So long I went. As I meandered around strewn towels, flicking sand up off my feet with every stride, I turned my head to see him release with the force of an Olympic discus thrower. It soared through the air, a bright blue UFO. Over the crimson crowns of balding dads waiting for beeps to reveal hidden treasure. It floated above the boy burrowing a magnificent crater, searching for the middle of the earth. It swooped over the baby enjoying a mouthful of sand, and crashed straight in to Mum’s 99. And then we ran.
Before the flood by Agnes Halvorssen
Summer has gone off the rails. Doors slam and the hot sun shakes in the sky, the clouds pull close and raise their arms. She does not blow them away to reveal a clear blue, but pulls them nearer. There are rumours that she has been spending time with Winter. She comes back cold to the touch, icicles hiding in her golden locks, the tip of her nose red and damp. And nowadays Winter has a wild faraway look in his eyes, and pools of water gathering around his boots.
Don’t look now by Gemma Smith
‘Beware,’ shrieked the sign on the wall, ‘ignore at your peril.’ Eyes darting wildly, I make a bid for safety, clutching my prize to my chest as if it might evade me at the first opportunity. Lulled by its gentle rhythm, the ocean pulls me to it; the sun’s glow enveloping me as I step out from the dark cobbled streets, trance-like, into the open harbour. Feverishly unwrapping the pristine white paper, I marvel at the molten gold within, and then…GONE. Circling like a feathered storm in a squawking flurry of teacups, my aerial pursuers strike. Bloody seagulls. Bloody toastie.
Hanami by Christopher P Davis
They were midway through lemon-scented drinks when a wisteria flower descended feather-lightly into his glass and stirred the bittersweet memory of the previous summer. The two of them had hired bikes at dawn and rode across Tokyo, eventually finding their way to Yoyogi Park, where they spent the afternoon beneath purple trees, watching the dancers and talking, while he stroked her hazel-brown hair. A year had passed since then and he still wondered whether they had made the right decision. “What are you thinking about?” his date asked, noticing his faraway gaze, and tucking a blonde lock behind her ear.
Summer wardrobe by Kate Life
The seasonal shift sent her packing. Carefully she exchanged cashmere and tweed for cottons in shades of citrus zest and ice-cream scoops. Folding corduroy, she thought of Tom. He was the scent of wood-smoke, a trudge through leaves, crumble, and chilled fingers that had chivalrously scraped her windscreen clear. She transported him to the world of summer: petrol fumes heavy in sluggish air, the pop of fizz, and songs that would grate when autumn came. “Oh well,” she thought, shoving the last zippered package into the depths of the bed, “I can mothball him, till October at least.”
Daisy days by Hannah Pank
The pleasantly warm air of summer has finally tempted my head above the soil, a crown of pure, brilliant white petals encircling my golden yolk of a centre. A young girl is dancing upon the ground beside me, bare feet barely indenting the warm grass beneath. She stumbles over in a fit of laughter, giggles erupting from dimpled cheeks. Chubby fingers clumsily begin to interlock the bodies of my sisters, weaving them into a crown. Then I am chosen to adorn the head of the girl of my dreams. Together we dance toward the sunset.
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