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Gordon Lawrie

Surrounded

30/11/2016

 
For St Andrew's Day...
Picture
They had it surrounded.
 
The monster had one tiny brown eye that long dark nights had made almost redundant. Its legs – short left, longer on the right for side-of-mountain running – had disappeared under its own enormous weight. Surely it was defenceless now?
 
The captors wore protective clothing: monsters such as these could be dangerous. However Mr Yellow, a veteran of such hunts, showed no fear facing it down.
 
But the hunters had underestimated their prey. Seconds later the monster had simply grown, enlarging to incorporate the entire posse and become one even larger haggis.
 
It was all over in seconds.

New Post With Tied Accommodation

25/11/2016

 
"You’re sure this is the right road, George? My feet are getting sore." Mabel had patiently followed her husband, who himself was following a map he’d downloaded from the internet.
 
"Says here that’s it’s just at the end of the road. Not long now."
 
"I know folk who stayed here on a Groupon Voucher for a weekend. Said it’s very nice, if a bit old-fashioned. Remind me how you landed this job?"
 
"Filled in the application form. No one else applied." He shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway – free accommodation for four years. New toys to play with. What’s not to like?"

Supermoon

18/11/2016

 
Picture
“Is that it over there?” Hilda asked Walter.
 
“Well, I think it has to be,” he replied. “Damn cloud cover. First the Total Eclipse, now the SuperMoon. And we missed seven sightings of the Aurora Borealis and two meteor showers this year for the same reason.”
 
They were sitting in the park, drinking from a flask of coffee.
 
“What a climate,” Hilda muttered. “We’ve really messed it up. I blame Global Warming.”
 
“Probably.”
 
They pored over their iPhone calendars.
 
“Says here there’s another SuperMoon in 2034!” said Walter.
 
“Oh that’s great. I’ll still only be 92.”
 
“Might need fresh coffee.”

What Was It All For?

11/11/2016

 
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Standing at the War Memorial, none of them now under 90, they remembered fallen friends. Wreaths were laid: nowadays, only Tom was fit enough to bend and take part. At the minute’s silence, his mind went blank, the mind perhaps blanking out the horrors.
 
As they left, some sort of student anti-war demonstration was going on.
 
Tom’s wife Mary took his arm, saying, “Doesn’t it make you angry, seeing those youngsters, just taking what you did for granted?”
 
“No, Mary,” he replied. “That’s what it was all for. So that those young people had the democratic freedom to say so.”

Darkness At The Break Of Noon

9/11/2016

 
In the wake of the 2016 US Presidential Elections...
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I'm comin' to get ya...
Midday: the streetlights were on. The man and his son stared blankly from the window at dazed, confused passers-by in the street.
 
‘Why is it so dark, Dad?’ the boy asked. ‘It’s just gone twelve.’
 
It was a good question, the man thought. He thought of his migrant friends, of his black friends, of every woman he knew; he thought of all those less fortunate than he, and the future of the entire planet.
 
‘Someone’s managed to turn the clocks back, son.’
 
‘Will they ever go forwards again?’ the boy asked.
 
The man had no answer. These were dark days.

A Drunk Man Looks At The 2016 US Presidential Elections

4/11/2016

 
Hugh MacDiarmid, the Scottish poet, wrote the cyncial A Drunk Man Looks At The Thistle in 1926. He might agree with the sentiments below...
You say Trumpet, I say Claxon
You say she’s crooked!, I say he’s poison,
Trumpet, claxon,
Crooked, poison,
Oh let’s call the whole thing off!
 
You say Repubican, I say Democrat
You say she’s evil, I say he’s malignant,
Republican, Democrat,
Evil, Malignant
Oh let’s call the whole thing off!
 
Oh but if we call the whole thing off
We must start again
And anyway four years from now
We’ll be singing the same refrain
 
So you say elephant, I say donkey
You say rodent, I say monkey
Elephant, donkey
Rodent, monkey,
Sadly – we can’t call the whole thing off!

    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!)
    Click on image

    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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