Sue Shampoo. Sue Hullaballoo. Sue Dancing Shoes. Sue Too. Sue Phew.
I park the perambulator and lift the rain shield: "Sue Chew! " she says.
Her round puffy cheeks are smudged with orange maize.
I kiss her.
On each cheek and feel the sticky residue cling to me. I flick my tongue over my lips: "Mmmm!" I say before the flavour is replaced with a chemical aftertaste.
Presentable again with a wet wipe polish.
Children run over artificial turf. She joins them in the exercise area. I watch her struggle to keep up.
She is breathless. She is not a carbon copy. Replicated not duplicated. Expect some blurring.
But I love her, just the same.
Her hair not as yellow, her eyes not as blue. Sue Two.
That's it for this year's FlashFlood! Huge thanks again to our writers, our readers, our editors , and everyone who submitted work....
We'd like to mark the end of 2020 with a little celebration of this year's FlashFlood writers. Congratulations to the following wri...
A shaft of sunlight fell across the worn herringbone floor, drawing his gaze upwards to the flawless blue sky beyond the row of windows, ...
The next FlashFlood will take place National Flash-Fiction Day 's 10th Anniversary, next mass-writing event taking place on 26 June 202...