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Flash Fiction
Azioni libro
Inizia a leggere- Editore:
- Peter Apps
- Pubblicato:
- Aug 27, 2019
- ISBN:
- 9780463512517
- Formato:
- Libro
Descrizione
Flash Fiction is an eclectic collection of short stories by the authors of the Sheppey Writer’s Group and contributors from Sheppey and beyond. We welcome stories from Malcolm Gibbons (The Island Gang Narratives), Ruth Partis, well known Island Poet and short story writer, Peter Apps author of the excellent Sci-fi Novella Fracture Point, and Wally Newby, a one time leader of the Sheppey Writers. The stories reflect the wide range of interests of the authors from quiet, disturbing horror, gentle ghost tales, stories that take the reader into a different world and comedy. The whimsical humour of Fred Woodworth, the very short stories by Tony Stubley, the historical tales by Anthony Padman and the new writing of Amanda Cooper, Selina Jobbins and Mike Pearce add up to a “Good Read”.
Informazioni sul libro
Flash Fiction
Descrizione
Flash Fiction is an eclectic collection of short stories by the authors of the Sheppey Writer’s Group and contributors from Sheppey and beyond. We welcome stories from Malcolm Gibbons (The Island Gang Narratives), Ruth Partis, well known Island Poet and short story writer, Peter Apps author of the excellent Sci-fi Novella Fracture Point, and Wally Newby, a one time leader of the Sheppey Writers. The stories reflect the wide range of interests of the authors from quiet, disturbing horror, gentle ghost tales, stories that take the reader into a different world and comedy. The whimsical humour of Fred Woodworth, the very short stories by Tony Stubley, the historical tales by Anthony Padman and the new writing of Amanda Cooper, Selina Jobbins and Mike Pearce add up to a “Good Read”.
- Editore:
- Peter Apps
- Pubblicato:
- Aug 27, 2019
- ISBN:
- 9780463512517
- Formato:
- Libro
Informazioni sull'autore
Correlati a Flash Fiction
Anteprima del libro
Flash Fiction - Sheppey Writers Group
enquiries@taup.uk
Foreword
By Peter Apps
The layout in this book may seem eccentric but fear not, there is madness to our method.
Our aim was to encourage new writers who have not contributed to our anthologies before so they have been placed at the front of the book. Since the contributions are flash fiction, we’ve attempted to place them on single pages or starting on an even number so that the full story is front on you. Otherwise, it is in strict alphabetical order unless …
Of course, it all breaks down if you’re reading an ebook, when the stories don’t fit or there is an ‘R’ in the month but we tried.
By James Apps
The question was how to write a short story that can be easily read on radio in less than three minutes?
The answer was Flash Fiction, a collection of short and very short stories suitable for reading to the public on afternoon radio.
Our aim was to encourage new writers who have not contributed to our anthologies before and also to give the Sheppey Writer’s Group another chance to show off their talents. Stories had to be five hundred words or less. We did not ask writers to stick to a theme, and as a result we have collected a variety of stories, some weird, some odd but all reflecting the ideas of the authors. The need to keep them short creates concise stories of high quality and encourage writers to edit their work to fit inside the three minute time slot.
We managed to read some on Sheppey FM radio on some Wednesdays during the Good Read
section that usually includes a short interview as well as the readings.
We would like to than the contributors and also welcome work from our one time leading light, Wally Newby, and thanks to Dawn Cockburn and Mick Terry of Sheppey FM for inviting us to their show.
Amanda Cooper
Side Ward
Malcolm R Gibbs
Share
Bad ‘n’s
The Man
Selina Jobbins
Shadow of a Stalker
Wally Newby
Once Upon A Time
Cottage For Sale
Memory Lane
Souvenirs
Mike Pearce
Mr Jacobs’ Garden
Val Smith
Bugged
Tony Stubley
Words – Worth, A Lesson in Loquaciousness
A Game Called Echo.
Sanity Clause
Three Ultra Short Stories
Ice Scream
Not A Lotto Luck
Death of a Leaping Horseman
The Story of He and She
Frederick E Woodworth
Le Maison Blanc
The Eyes Have It
Beachy Head Incident
Candyfloss & Popcorn
The Forfeit
The Missing S
James Apps
Little Green Men
Lugs’s New Teddy
One Armed Bandits
On Robbery and Pussycats
Material & Environment Solutions Systems Inc. (MESSI)
The Witch
The End Of The World Is Nigh
Ready Cash
I Am Daffodil
The Purity Pledge
A Walk through the Park
Opposition
The Man with the Wooden Leg
I likes to sit
Peter Apps
Shadows
Power Cut
The Anniversary
Dilemma
Taming The Monster
Everything’s Fine Dear
Reminiscing
Leave 'em Laughing
Anthony Padman
A Time To Say Goodbye
A Rose By Any Name
And Where’s My Share
Pelandok
The Little Corporal
Le Petit Sergent
Ruth Partis
Night-Time At The Movies
The Sad Story of James Andrew O'Rouke
A Modern Fairy Tale
The Fossil Man
Ashes to Sunshine
Family Secrets
Amanda Cooper
Side Ward
Donald lay immobile in the hospital bed, his arm in a plaster cast, his head throbbing. The stitches in his left temple and his battered face testament to the savagery of the attack. The last 24 hours had been a blur to him and he just wanted to be left alone to come to terms with what had happened.
To distract himself he looked around the side ward he was in. There were three other beds. One bed was occupied by an enormously overweight man. How do people get so fat wondered Donald as he gazed at the sleeping man who was hooked up to various monitors and oxygen.
The next bed along was occupied by an incredibly frail and apparently ancient gentleman. He lay on his back, mouth slightly open, asleep, or so Donald assumed. Only the gentle rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was still alive.
The bed next to Donald was empty, its sheets and covers neatly made up. There was a jug of water and a bottle of squash on the nightstand which Donald assumed meant it was occupied. Just as Donald looked away an elderly man, in his early seventies, shuffled into the ward on a walking frame.
As he reached the end of Donald’s bed he stopped and said You look like you’ve been through hell.
Donald found the man’s comment strangely comforting but all he could croak in response was, I have.
Well you’re in good hands here,
the man said. Especially that Nurse Ling
. With that the man winked at Donald. Name’s Gordon Holland or
Dutch to my friends
and with that he shuffled towards the empty bed. Donald closed his eyes but despite his bone crushing weariness sleep eluded him, disturbed by the noises of a busy hospital and with growing irritation, the obese man snoring and snuffling.
Donald wondered how Dutch managed and looked across at his neighbour, surprised to see Dutch’s bed empty, bedsheets and covers still neatly tucked in. Donald’s chest suddenly tightened and he felt nauseous. He closed his eyes and found himself dreaming.
Dutch appeared pushing a wheelchair which he parked next to Donald’s bed. Righto old chap! You ready for liberation?
Donald must have looked puzzled as Dutch went on, Hop in, we’re leaving
. Donald found himself sitting up easily, no pain, which he thought was strange but then it was a dream. He climbed out of bed and into the wheelchair. Like two naughty schoolboys the two elderly men made their way out of the hospital and into the night.
Ward rounds an hour later sent the night staff calling for the on call Doctor. It’s Mr Cope. We found him deceased on our routine check. No indication previously that he was in any particular difficulties. Must have been his heart Doctor. Should we let patient admin know we now have two beds free on Poplar Ward?
Malcolm R Gibbs
Share
That looks and smells lovely. Please can I have some?
Yes, I know I didn’t eat my tea but I would really like some of that. I promise to eat every little piece and I’ll definitely eat my own tea afterwards, honestly.
What do you mean ‘there’s nothing left’? Look at what you’ve got piled on your plate; you can’t possibly need to eat all of that. How about sharing some with me? (HUFF)
I really do love you, you know. Please can I have some, just a little bit will do. I’m so hungry, I haven’t eaten for ages. Please, please.
How can you be so wicked as to sit there and keep putting that lovely food in your mouth without offering me some?
Share, listen to me, share. (HUFF) You’re ignoring me aren’t you?
Yes, yes, you keep telling me that I have my own tea but I don’t want it, I want what
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