Posted in Flash Fiction

Cluttered Space

“It’s all looking a bit of a mess sir.”

“I quite agree Peter. It looks ghastly. When I created the sun and the moon and the stars and…. What’s the name of that planet Peter?”

“Earth sir. It was one of your speedier creations.”

“That’s right, Earth. Well, when I created that place and its people I didn’t think they would end up littering space with their satellites and space stations. It’s all too much. Something needs to be done.”

“What did sir have in mind? Destroy the planet maybe? Start again with a race that is not so technically minded?”

“I am inclined to obliterate the place and start again. The trouble is I’d have to go to the other Gods if I wanted to start all over again. Such hard work getting these ideas through committee. No, we need a simpler solution.”

“What about getting rid of the clutter instead sir. I could pop out tonight and cut the strings tethering them to Earth. They would then simply drift away.”

“Excellent idea Peter! I don’t know what I’d do without you. Sounds like fun. I might even join you. Can you lend me a pair of scissors?”


A story for Sunday Photo Fiction.

Posted in Flash Fiction

Time To Move


We thought the fence we’d erected on our side of the river would be enough of a deterrent. Obviously it wasn’t. A gang of youngsters from the housing estate on that side came across last night on makeshift rafts . We woke this morning to find lampposts damaged and graffiti scrawled across the vicarage gates. The vicar’s wife won’t go out at night fearing she may be ravished by these marauding hordes. Whereas old Mrs. Fortescue-Smythe, from the Beeches Home for the Elderly, sneaks out every night hoping she will be. No luck so far.

It’s going to be difficult chairing the Parish Council tonight. The locals are demanding action. While the placing of gun turrets along the water’s edge is probably a non-starter, there is a lot of support for Colonel Smithers suggestion of electrifying the fence. The local fisherman have raised concern for the safety of the salmon but I’m not sure their arguments will carry much sway. Some of the younger members of our community are talking of carrying out retaliatory raids across the river, maybe even taking hostages. If they get their way, I’m seriously thinking of resigning as Chair and  moving up North somewhere.


Posted in Other Tales



Dear Mr. and Mrs. Spencer,

Can I begin by offering you my sincere apologies for the disgraceful ransom note you received yesterday. It was extremely crude, both in terms of its layout and the vulgarity of the language used. Unfortunately, it was the work of my rather stupid associate. A loyal employee, but not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Rest assured he has been severely spoken to and has promised this will never happen again.

In his defence, I believe him when he says he was trying to help by taking some of the workload off my shoulders. Unfortunately his somewhat poor home background, deprived childhood and unsatisfactory schooling, came to the fore and you were the recipients. Once again please accept my profuse apologies.

Despite his shortcomings, my colleague does possess certain qualities that I find indispensible in our line of work. Personally I would have been a little less graphic with the threats. Unfortunately he does have this annoying habit of saying things as he sees them, though his choice of words leaves much to be desired. So when he wrote, and I quote, “Pay up or I’ll cut the little bitch up real nasty.” I’m afraid that is exactly what he meant. I’ve seen him at his work and, while not pretty, he is very good at what he does.

Once again I feel that I must offer you my sincere apologies for the manner in which this information was delivered to you. Procedures at this end have been tightened up considerably to ensure it doesn’t happen again.
In conclusion, may I remind you that the ransom deadline draws near and my associate grows impatient. I look forward to an early conclusion to our present business.

Yours faithfully

Your Daughter’s Captor


Posted in Flash Fiction

Flower Things


“Any idea what it is Captain?”

“It’s a flower, sir. According to our database it’s a ‘fuchsia magellanica’ and was first discovered on the Caribbean islands of …”

“Enough Captain! Are there more of these ‘flower’ things?”

“They’re everywhere, sir. The whole planet is covered in flowers of all shapes and sizes.”

“Do the things serve any purpose?”

“They are often grown for their beauty, sir.”

“They think they’re beautiful! My God! These Earthling really are a backward race. Anything else?”

“Yes sir, apparently these flowers are also a benefit to a great number of insects.”

“Insects? What the hell are ‘insects’?”

“They are a small arthropod animals that have six legs and generally one or two pairs of wings, sir.”

“Enough! As far as I can see, Captain, neither these flower objects or these insect creatures are of any use at all. I want the place cleared of them. Send in your men and cleanse the entire planet of anything living. While they’re at it Captain, your men might as well dispose of the Earthlings as well, I can’t see that we will have any need of them either. I’ll be in my quarters, wake me when it’s done.”


A story for this week’s prompt at Sunday Photo Fiction.