Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 09

Nathan didn’t mind detention when Simon was there too, even though it meant he missed kicking the footy around with his mates and his usual sneaky ciggy behind the bike sheds with Taylor.

They’d played up in fourth period maths, and now the two of them were alone in the classroom until Ms Dean returned at the halftime bell to check if they were done. Nathan would’ve been finished ages ago if it weren’t for his too frequent glances at Simon, who had slid so far down in the chair his butt was on the edge of the seat.

‘Aren’t you going to do anything?’ Nathan asked.

Simon shrugged. ‘She just said we had to finish, not that it needed to be correct. I’ll scribble down some numbers when the bell rings. I’m in no hurry.’

A ghost of smile.

Nathan closed his book.

Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 08

She trembled.

Face pressed to the pine needles, Stephanie willed herself invisible. Her breath was little more than a shallow necessity, her only movement as she willed her quaking limbs still.

Footsteps crunched by.

Heavy boots paused by her face. They stunk of sap and kangaroo shit.

The felled tree hid her shadow. Even with the full moon and starry night sky above, the thickness of the forest distorted the light penetrating the world below the trees.

The boots moved on.

She could breathe again.

Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 07

“Floor it,” Dane said, slamming the car door. “Go. Get out of here. Now.”

Heath hesitated for a moment and waited for Dane to buckle his seat belt. He didn’t, just stared out the window with his head lowered so his straw-like hair covered his eyes.

“Where are we going?” Heath asked as he reached across to buckle it for him.

“Anywhere.” Dane tried to mask his sniffle with a cough. “Just … drive.”

Turning the ignition, Heath nodded. He slipped the car into gear then his hand into Dane’s.

“Lead the way.”

Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 06

Charlotte cries in the shower while Greg watches cricket on TV. The day had been fine; bub took all his naps, had a good poo, and even went down for the night after only three rounds of Soft Kitty.

But still, she cries.

It’s not like she misses her job, but weekends were nice. So were lunch breaks. Even that 5 pm clock-off time she whinged about looks appealing now.

The hot water wanes. Charlotte rinses her hair along with her tears. She gets out of the shower, towels herself off and makes dinner.