Microfiction is fiction written in the smallest word count possible. All these have been written within 280 characters.
Tommy stared at the screen. Five percent battery left, how was that possible? He needed to log onto Facebook and find the next set of instructions for the mission. The tube rattled along the tracks making the familiar noises. Tommy turned his body away from the rather overweight man sat beside him. He needed privacy to log in. As much privacy as you could get on a busy tube carriage. If only Tommy could remember the code that extended your battery. He remembered seeing if you pressed a combination you could access the reserve battery. It was no good, Tommy couldn’t remember the sequence. Tommy pressed the familiar F logo on his phone and everything went black. He looked in despair at the phone. Punching the home button with his thumb, nothing happened. Tommy swore, earning himself a tut from the elderly woman sitting opposite him. How Tommy would have loved to follow the old bat home and make her pay. She would have to wait he had another mission to fulfil today. That was if he could ever access the details of it on his phone. Why had he left home without his charger? He was so sure he had enough battery. He had thrown the phone on the wireless charger last night. Only to discover when he was on the tube that it hadn’t charged. Tommy needed a phone charger and he needed one fast. As he stepped out of the train in search, he spotted exactly what he needed. A guy walked in front of him. He had a leather jacket, black jeans and trainers. What attracted Tommy was the phone in his hand which was connected via a lead to his backpack. He had to have a mobile charger in that backpack. What more, they had the same phone.
It was an easy decision when Marion asked me for my kidney. At the time when I went through the initial tests, I was shocked I could even be considered a match. Then against all odds, I was the only person who could save Marion’s life. We had grown up together, sisters from a different mother we used to say. We had met when we were only five on our first day at school. We were as different as chalk and cheese. Marion came from a rich family, everything she wanted her parents provided for her. The latest bikes, the latest toys and even one of the first computers.
As I pulled down hard on my shoelace with utter despair I heard the rip as it snapped in my hand. I looked down at my battered boots and knew I had been living on borrowed time. The boots, that had once been buffed, so I could see my face, were dirty and leaking. The leather was peeling. Wherever I went the hole in the sole allowed water to seep into my feet.
Tommy stared at the bloody handkerchief in his hand. He thought back to the night before. He remembered the trip to the pub with his friends, he didn’t think he had drunk that much. Shit, then it hit him the guy who had shoved him in the club for spilling his pint. His hands trembled … Continue reading The Drunken Night That Changed Tommy’s Life – Short Story
The worse part of being a traveller is that you never know how long you will stay with any family. Sometimes it can be a couple of weeks, sometimes a couple of years. If you are lucky, on very rare occasions, travellers find forever families. This is such a rare occasion I try not to think about it.....
I sit here, desolate in my house. The walls are closing in. A sob escapes me, they come frequently when I think about the accident. He had been my friend for years. Always beside me through thick and thin. Whenever I needed him he was there. When my family broke away from me, he picked me up. Through the lonely first weeks, he had constantly been beside me. Now I have let him down like no one else.