‘Sweep it up,’ she pointed at the garden. I paused. Sweep up the garden? But I liked the garden.
‘The garden?’ I looked at the brush.
‘The leaves, stupid.’
‘Oh.’ There was a painting in yellow, orange and red splattered over the grass.
I swept. I stirred the scarlet waste and brushed the yellows into a pile. The orange and brown nicotine stains disintegrated.
I swept. I stirred the scarlet waste and brushed the yellows into a pile. The orange and brown nicotine stains disintegrated.
‘What are you doing?’ She gasped as she saw the nothingness under the leaves. She stepped out and watched her colours blow away. She let herself be covered in shades.
I swept until the garden disappeared.
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.
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.
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