Flash Fiction Friday: The Sea Slugs

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by: Chris Meekings The man sailed up to the window. He was in a coracle made of a half coconut. His lips thick with spittle. His beard was grey and grizzled long and matted. Around his neck was hung a bloodied pigeon, alternate white and red, with the sign “Albatross” […]

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Flash Fiction Friday: The Thinking Man’s Bicycle

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by: Chris Meekings It is barely coin o’clock in the morning, and the bourbon has only just taken the taste of Pepsodent from my mouth when she walks into my office. She’s glass and alabaster, with curves in all the right places, liquorice nice. She walks across the room, her […]