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Gordon Lawrie

Guys And Dolls

29/5/2015

 
In a week when one LinkedIn male writer received a reprimand from another female one for using the word 'guys' in a generic sense...

Barbie stood on the corner, chewing gum authoritatively. Most of the gang were dressed in short skirts and low-slung tops, but Barbie’s demeanour marked her out clearly as leader.

“Hey dolls, time to hit the clubs,” she said.

Nodding towards a figure standing a little away, Steffi and Cindy screwed up their faces. “All of us?”

“Why not?” A command, not a question. “He can’t help being male.”

“The inferior 49%,” Steffi muttered.

They set off, Action Man a few paces behind. Then he drew out his machine gun and wasted them all.

“The violent 49%. You dolls never learn.”

Shared Embarrassment

21/5/2015

 
Invited to Sunday lunch with mutual friends, they made small talk: how each knew the hosts, work, neighbourhood stuff, children and grandchildren, the usual things.

But she knew him from somewhere else, possibly a long-ago one-night stand, perhaps just a neighbour. Then she remembered.

Twenty years previously, he’d taken her daughter and some friends camping. Her daughter’s tent had accidentally caught fire and he’d pulled the girl out just in time.

Now she was embarrassed that she hadn’t recognised the man who’d saved her daughter’s life.

He was still embarrassed that a child in his care had been so endangered.

In An Office Somewhere

15/5/2015

 
Believe it or not, this is loosely inspired by a real conversation.

The publisher sighed. He’d not been looking forward to this meeting with the author.

“This book of yours, ‘How To Pass Mathematics Examinations’. There’s a problem. Quite a few, I’m afraid.”

The author bristled. “Such as?”

“Well, it says here two plus two equals five. That’ll have to go.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not right. And triangles don’t have four sides. And you can’t fill π with chicken.”

“I’m the mathematician. I know about these things. I have a degree.”

“From where?”

“Pluto. University College. A 2:1. Tell me, where’s YOUR mathematics degree from?”

“I don’t have one.”

“SEEEE!!!!!”

(Publisher sighs.)

David And Marcia, A Love Story

8/5/2015

 
David and Marcia’ retirement was never active. On summer evenings they sat outside on folding chairs, greeting neighbours and passing strangers alike. They measured time not in hours and minutes, but in “gin-and-tonic inches”, glasses refilling miraculously without either of them ever moving.

Marcia smoked like a chimney and used her low gravelly voice to boss David about and make grand pronouncements about the declining state of the country. Neighbours simply smiled benignly.

But David loved her, and when Marcia’s heart suddenly gave out, he faded away within months. They’re together now, I’m sure; their ashes are, at any rate.

Rosebank Doesn't Live Here Any More

5/5/2015

 
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Falkirk, in Scotland’s Central Belt, isn’t somewhere you’d expect to find good whisky, but one of the great lowland malts, Rosebank, was made there. I went looking for the distillery once. Although marked on my 1980s map, I could find no trace: its tell-tale pagoda roof, replaced by Rosebank Terrace, Rosebank Avenue, Rosebank Circus, each filled with modern ticky-tacky little-box houses, just the same.

The local pub-owner broke the news: Rosebank had closed. Then he produced a last remaining bottle of amber nectar from the shelf behind him.

“Let’s drink. Like everything else in life, enjoy it while you can.”


Eureka Moment

1/5/2015

 
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Widely assumed to be Pluto’s most intelligent man, Plutonian No. 20145B possessed eleven physics degrees, ten from Pluto universities and one from Galactic College, Neptune. An acknowledged electricity expert, he was the first Plutonian to demonstrate that light-switches are generally either on or off.

20145B’s bulb-changing PhD meant he was the obvious choice to fix the broken light-bulb in the town hall toilet. Valiantly, he mounted the stepladder and reached up, whereupon he became the first Plutonian to discover that mending broken lights without turning off the switch leads to death by electrocution.

His body was donated for scientific research.


    Flash Fiction

    Flash fiction is very, very short fiction indeed - short stories of any sort of length from a Haiku to ten minutes' reading. Good for when you're in a hurry. This series is a selection of contributions to Friday Flash Fiction, where there's a limit of 100 words. I try to make all mine exactly 100 words.


    Collections
    (FREE!)
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    If you enjoy these stories, why not download Gordon's first two collections of these, called '100 Not Out' and '200 Not Out'? Available for all types of e-readers including Kindle and iPad, for free. Completely free, no strings.

    Click on one of the images below...

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