Then one cold night he climbed inside a bin and fell asleep. The bin lorry came along the next morning.
Davie's body wasn't noticed at the landfill site for another fortnight.
Gordon Lawrie |
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Davie was a small, wiry man, his frame emaciated by heroin. Each night, he'd crawl inside communal wheelie-bins, sift through the discarded refuse of better-off city residents, and drag out whatever he could find. Then, he tried to sell his treasure to the very people who had dumped it in the first place. Incredibly, some took pity on him. However most simply called the police, who moved him on.
Then one cold night he climbed inside a bin and fell asleep. The bin lorry came along the next morning. Davie's body wasn't noticed at the landfill site for another fortnight. Comments are closed.
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Flash FictionFlash 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
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