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Back Home by Ron James

I woke with a start. You know that feeling when a noise has woken you but you are not sure what it was. What was it? I can hear the TV downstairs. Our bedroom is above the lounge, so if you are in bed when the TV is on, the sound sort of vibrates up through the pillow.
Pam stayed up after I came to bed, she must be still watching it. What’s the time? 1.15! She’s fallen asleep down there. I run my hand across the bed, she is next to me. Surely she hasn’t come to bed and left it on!
I put my dressing gown on. If we have burglars I don’t want them to see me in a state of undress, although I have to admit burglars don’t normally watch your telly. I walk down the stairs to switch it off. As I go into the lounge I glance to the left. Oh, bloody hell! there is someone sitting there, but he certainly doesn’t look like a burglar. He is just sitting there watching T.V. and doesn’t move as I walk in. He’s elderly, probably early 80’s, short, thin, almost scrawny, pencil moustache…

Youtube video

Worthing Flash Youtube Channel

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The link to the #worthingflash youtube channel is here

This means that you can send videos in as well as short stories and illustrations for them.



Reminder - I am still looking for volunteers to come along and share their short stories on 4th July at a venue in Worthing - probably St Paul's in Chapel Street. Without volunteers, the event cannot go ahead.

The Page and Spine Derek McMillan page is at https://www.pagespineficshowcase.com/derek-mcmillan.html

I appreciate the illustration looks like a Mosleyite but a Mosleyite on fire perhaps. (It has been pointed out to me that it is a Lego colourblind Mosleyite- the fascist uniform was black)

The Ass's Tale

Some people say I'm a bit of an ass. I'm not. I'm a whole ass. Not an arse. I've got one of those like you have but there's more to me than that.
I haven't an as. I'm totally skint. The inn this stable belongs to is not one of those posh new post inns with a stable full of horses. There's just me, an ass. I'm used for shopping.
Anyway one day a couple came into this stable. The woman was crying with pain. She was about to have a baby.
The Baby was born. He didn't cry as human babies usually do. I swear He brayed.
“In the future, I will ride one of your descendants into Jerusalem”.
Peter Redfarn

Caroline Osella

Caroline Osella is one of the contributors to the Worthing Flash event last year. Her website is here

Ethnographic flash shorts about Worthing, West Sussex, UK

http://sixquestionsfor.blogspot.com/

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http://sixquestionsfor.blogspot.com/ is a blog with questions and answers about flash fiction. It will feature http://worthingflash,blogspot.com and it is a mine of information about the market for flash fiction.




Seeking Santa

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“Woah, Dasher, It's no good. We'll have to go down. I can't carry on.” Santa Claus stifled a cough as he guided his sleigh down onto the pebbled beach. The tide was well out and the distant waves twinkled in the moonlight. “Cough, cough, cough,” went Santa, taking a large white handkerchief out of the pocket of his bright red suit. He sneezed violently into the handkerchief and wiped his streaming eyes with the edge of his hood, not caring if the fur tickled his cheeks. He was shivering and his breath was coming in rasping gasps. Two of the elves jumped down from where they were sitting on the remaining parcels. “ What can we do?” asked one. “ You need to get home and drink something warm.” “ There's only this land to do,” said the other elf. “Could we do it ourselves?” “No,” said Santa sternly, “It has to be a Father Christmas. Drop me back home and search for a substitute – there's plenty to choose from.” “ But will he be able to drive the reindeer?” “ The reind…

Another in My String of Bad Choices

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I was going for it today. Hiking in the National Park away from the marked paths we were passing a two-person untended gravesite when my watch alarmed.  I knelt down, opened the ring box, sun shining off the sparkler. Tiff, mesmerized by the two graves, kept inspecting them and asking questions not hearing a word I said. Disheartened, I packed up and led her back to the car. As we were driving she asked what I was saying at the graves and I told her to look in my backpack.
“This is how you propose?” she asked, tears falling.
Paul Beckman was one of the winners in The Best Small Fictions 2016!  And has been nominated for 2018. His latest collection of flash stories, "Kiss Kiss" available at Amazon http://bit.ly/pbKiss paperback  http://bit.ly/KisseP e book  Some places his stories have been published: Literary Orphans, Matter Press, Spelk, The Lost Balloon, Playboy, Gravel, and Pank. He curates the monthly FBomb NY flash fiction reading series at KGB’s Red Room.

What do you want from me?

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Régine, originally from France, has a passion for the word and has written several poems and flash fiction. She is a linguist, a language teacher and lives in West Sussex.
Régine, who writes under the name of Andrée Roby, published her first novella called "Double Vision" in January 2019. It was voted "Book of the month for April 2019" by the publisher Tredition.  She is currently writing a sequel called "Failed Vision".
“Oh no! There it goes again…”

This repetitive “what do you want from me?” that I hear through the thin walls of my flat…  Since moving in 6 months ago, I kept hearing the woman next door saying “what do you want from me?” on a regular basis. Although it was muffled, she sounded quite distressed at times. What was going on in that flat?  Was she having an argument with her husband? I was baffled because when I saw the young couple in the street, they seemed happy and loving so what was causing their recurring argument indoors and her di…