✍🏻 Steph knew that her sister Penny was tight with money. It had been a family joke since they were kids and Penny had haggled with their father over how much monopoly money she was willing to hand over for Park Lane. Throughout their teenage years and into adulthood, Penny didn’t change. So Steph really shouldn’t have been surprised when she arrived at her sister’s newly built house in the south of France to discover she had painted green shutters on the outside walls to give the illusion of windows where there weren’t any. ‘Have you seen the price of glass?’ was Penny’s reply when she saw the look on her sisters face. Steph grinned, ‘Yeah, but electricity is way more expensive than daylight Penny.’ #Story #Siblings #FlashFiction #Writing #FemaleStories #Storyteller

✍🏻 Eight year old Chris wakes up screaming. Not because he’s having a nightmare, but because of what he sees when he opens his eyes. His bedroom curtains are pulled back and outside against the tar coloured night, a figure lurks by his window. With skin folded in creases and deep chasms where its features should be, it moves closer, its breath steaming the window. Chris’s screams bring his mum running into the room. At least, he thinks they do. He doesn’t actually see the door open, or hear her footsteps. He only realises she’s there when her hand coldly touches his shoulder. His words tumble forth like vomit, telling her what he’s seen at the window, lurking, waiting, trying to get inside. Smiling, she brushes his hair back from his forehead, a sensation he hates, and she reassures him he’s only dreaming. That he’s safe and sound tucked up in bed. As she creeps back out of his room, he knows she’s lying. He just doesn’t know why. #Story #Writing #Halloween #FlashFiction

✍🏻 First they silenced her. Then they hounded her. Now they’re chasing her. As Louise propels herself down unknown streets, she throws her phone into a nearby bin. She’s not a fast runner but it’s amazing how fear awakens a strength in her she never knew she had. With her phone gone, there’s no way they can track her, but her body still won’t allow her to slow down. Not until she’s safe inside with Marianne. The sound of distant sirens make her want to vomit but she keeps on moving. A sharp right turn. Four streets down. A desperate left turn. Behind black garage doors, Marianne waits, praying that Louise reaches her. The sirens grow louder, which means they’re getting closer. Time is running out. Marianne cracks open the garage door and sees a blue light sweep past the end of the road. She pulls back inside, holding her breath, waiting. Rapid pounding hits the door. It’s immediate, frantic and loud. Terrified, Marianne peers through the small panes of textured glass and recognises Louise’s blurred outline. Relief floods her body, her legs weakening. Pushing open the door, she drags Louise inside just as a second blue light appears and starts making its way towards them. #Writing #FlashFiction #Silence #Storytelling

✍🏻 When Mark pitched the idea of a no-tech holiday to Eddie, he didn’t hold back. “You’re bloody addicted and I’m seriously worried. You need to unplug, enjoy being outside, try reading a book, or god forbid actually have a conversation with me.” Eddie’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, triggering his fingers to twitch and arm jerk back. Mark glared at him. “Don’t you dare.” Eddie knew then, that for the sake of his relationship he had no choice but to get onboard with this holiday switch-off. Day one was torture. Everywhere Eddie looked someone was taking photos with their phone, scrolling Instagram, or looking up restaurant recommendations. On day five, he woke late and shuffled through their eerily quiet, boutique apart-hotel. Mark was nowhere to be found, so Eddie headed out to buy some breakfast pastries. Down by the river he spotted Mark at the water’s edge. He looked so cute sitting there, his back a little hunched, and head stooped forwards. It was a perfect photo opportunity and Eddie wished he had his phone, but maybe Mark was right, he should focus more on their relationship and less on his screen. As Eddie crept over to surprise him, he stopped abruptly. Something felt wrong. Why was Mark sitting with his head down, rather than admiring the view? Worried, Eddie began sprinting, and as he got closer he saw the phone clutched in Mark’s hands. The betrayal. The hypocrisy. The outrage. “Are you kidding me?!” Mark span around like a frightened squirrel, and in one smooth motion, Eddie lunged forward, grabbed the phone and hurled it into the river. Scrambling to his feet, Mark’s face contorted into Munch’s Scream. He stared at the water and back at Eddie, who was still angrily shouting. “What have you got to say for yourself?” Mark debated his options and realised honesty was all he had left. “That was your phone.” When Mark’s body hit the water, his splash was far, far, louder than the phone’s had been. #Writing #WritersOfInstagram #Storytelling #FlashFiction