I’m making steady progress with my new book but need the occasional diversion. I recently wrote a couple of flash fictions – very short stories of less than 500 words. One was called ‘Travelling with Rats’ about a boy with nightmares, and the other was titled ‘Terminal Void’ about three terminally ill women in hospital joking about their holiday plans. I was satisfied with what I’d written so I submitted them to a competition for Microfictions to see if someone else liked them!
The end of ‘Travelling with Rats’ (which was written in late November) is strangely and sadly prophetic:- “They’d left him, like rats abandoning a sinking ship. He was in a locked cabin. Dark waters seeping in. Going down.”
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