An adult might have spoken to him, tried to offer a sense of perspective, but the supervisors were too busy in other areas. Instead, Liam was left in one corner, alone, desolate, with no one to play with. He'd no idea why, simply that none of his classmates wanted to do what he wanted to do. Liam wanted to pretend, to imagine, to be in his own world, he didn't want to play football or tig or chasing or any of those shouty games that everyone else seemed to enjoy. But at least he managed not to be seen crying.
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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.