Wipeout's Last Stand
The Brilliant British Menu
At The Senate Hearing
"It's good of you to come here and agree to testify under oath, Mr President."
"Raise your right hand please."
The President's right hand formed its all-too-familiar gesture, then he stretched out "I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God!!!" to almost 30 seconds, throwing in a promise to build a wall between the Senate and the House for good measure.
By the time he'd given his name, occupation, and full address including zip code, his testimony had ended. It was a Friday, after all – 100 words maximum.
It's The Hope That Kills You
This photograph taken this morning outside my polling station – a church hall – had a profound effect on me.
As voting closed in the General Election, the TV studio pundits suddenly burst into life. Now, they could share the sensational first exit polls: a swing to both major parties, the Conservatives and Labour. Each party had 60% of the vote.
The news astounded and excited Professor John Butler. Most stunningly, the #TryPraying Party vote had collapsed completely. The pundits speculated that support for #TryPraying had suffered badly after Brexit and the election of Donald Trump. Voters felt let down by its leader.
Of course as Butler pointed out repeatedly, it was only an exit poll. It could be wrong.
On A Clear Day You Can See For Ever
The Brash New Blond-Haired Kid
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.