Saturday, 19 May 2012

Oxenhope Stanza Stones Event

I will be attending this event tonight as part of the Ilkley Literature Festival.  For further details check out  Can't wait to meet Simon Armitage.

On Wednesday evening I attended the Weetwood Writers National Flash Fiction day event at Weetwood Hall.  This event featured readings from winning flash fiction authors and mini-workshops on writing flash fiction using specific words or ideas. 

Wednesday was the first National Flash Fiction day, but I hope it won't be the last.  There were plenty of competitions out there celebrating the day and to celebrate this on my blog, here is my latest flash fiction tale which was written for a competition.  The theme was recycle and the 250 words or less story had to feature the words blunder, tingle, perform and knit.  How do you think I did?


Teresa had always been green and it wasn’t without humour that he thought of her now.  ‘Teresa Green’ they’d snickered when she’d insisted they take recycling in their apartment seriously.  She’d left them a very detailed note on the fridge listing daily tasks to perform and they’d tried to, really they had, but with each blunder her list had grown, tasks more and more ridiculous and now they’d had enough.  It still gave him a tingle when he thought of how easy it had been to persuade them.  It was unanimous, she could no longer share their digs and somehow, he’d been given the job of getting rid of her.  They thought he had drawn the short straw, but he’d had that in mind all along.  He had wanted her gone since Sharon.

Sharon had been tall, lithe and quietly beautiful; the total opposite of Teresa.  She loved easily, gave generously and had forgiven transgressions, until Teresa got involved.  You see, Sharon had liked to wait for him until lectures finished and whilst she waited, she liked to knit.  Noise irritated Teresa and there’d been words and Sharon had been reasonable, so Teresa had told her a few things that she hadn’t been aware of.  She was gone before he was ready and for that he couldn’t forgive.  She’d wanted to throw away the needles left in her haste, but he’d insisted he would recycle them.  And recycle them he did, as he sunk them deep into her neck.

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