The last bed I slept in kicked me out after five minutes. It said if you want to tuck your feet under the covers then you can use the futon downstairs – that’s not normal for a full-grown man. But the futon and I had fought the week before so since then it’s been benches. In winter, in the cold corners of parks, benches are grateful for the company and for the warmth – memorial ones especially. I try to divide my time between them so it looks like I don’t have favourites – like you have to do with friends or children. But I do. Of course I do. I’m not going to say which, though. It’s not that I don’t trust you – it’s the pigeons: they slip the benches gossip past the breadcrumbs in their beaks and it would spread quick as litter – or blame.
FlashFlood is brought to you by National Flash-Fiction Day UK, happening this year on 27th June 2015.
In the build up to the day we have now launched our Micro-Fiction Competition (stories up to 100 words) and also our annual Anthology (stories up to 500 words). So if you have enjoyed FlashFlood, why not send us your stories?
More information about these and the Day itself available at nationalflashfictionday.co.uk.
Bloody pigeons are more plastic friends needed
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