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I saw an advert in Writing Magazine seeking weird short stories for an anthology and an idea popped into my head about a misunderstood man who had always felt misplaced. Royston is eager to change his life for good and he has the opportunity, if only he can meet the criteria...and his deadline.

I submitted the story to the agent and was thrilled to discover it had been chosen to be included in the anthology.

While I'm unable to show the full story here, the book is available on Amazon. 

 

I would love read your feedback on the story! 

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Click to purchase

Child by the Window

Flash Fiction Competition Entry

Mummy's Boy 
The telescope from my father was her favourite birthday gift and I hated how close their heads were when they used it. My mother’s friends arrived and their music played loudly. My father was relaxing in the bath, listening to sports commentary on his laptop. I looked at the wire connected to an extension lead that disappeared through the door. The laptop sat securely on the windowsill above the bath. I kicked and edged my chair closer to the trailing wire. I sat and stared at his scratchy face.

I could feel music vibrating from downstairs. I sucked my bottom lip. I reached out and tugged on the wire several times and with each pull, the laptop jerked ever so slightly towards the edge. I kept doing it until it was almost teetering. Could I do it? Could I make it fall on his head? My mother came into the bathroom, giddy from drinking wine, her cheeks beautiful and rosy. She lifted me out of my bouncy seat, bent down and left a red lipstick kiss on his cheek. He didn’t open his eyes, just smiled and said “Bye gorgeous, see you later. Put George in his Moses basket, I will be down in a couple of minutes.” “Okay, bye sexy, I love you.” She replied in her sing song voice. She carried me out of the bathroom where the music was louder. She swung the bathroom door behind her, I looked over her shoulder and watched the door bang against the wire, giving it a jolt. Over the music I could just make out a splash and a faint scream. The lights flickered. Now downstairs, her friends were cooing and saying how innocent I looked in my ‘I Love Daddy’ pyjamas. I settled sleepily in my Moses basket and the music was switched off. The women were all too busy to notice the eerie silence that now seeped down the stairs.  My mother kissed me gently and left the house. I slept soundly that evening, content with the knowledge that from now on, I had her all to myself.

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