Tag Archives: relationships

Love is Blind – Flash Fiction


She strode across the room of the restaurant and punched him square on the nose.

People at the nearby tables stopped with forks mid air to watch this drama unfolding. Dinner and a show. She felt a teeny bit thrilled at the prospect of embarrassing him – she knew how he hated to look bad in front of others – but decided to take the rest of this interaction outside.

“I’m sorry” she half-smiled as he held tissues to his nose and tilted his head skyward.

“Yeah, where the hell did that come from? I know I dumped you and all but seriously, no need” he half smiled back to her.

Honestly, she wasn’t expecting herself to be so angry upon seeing him again. She thought she was over it, but obviously there were some residual emotions there. She watched him for a moment, and then looking around at their surroundings she began to chuckle.

“You have no clue” she stated

He looked at her from behind his wad of tissues; dazed and confused.

“About what you did to me – you have no clue”

“What I did? You brought about the end of our relationship, I just finished it properly”

He was getting defensive, as he always did. It made her sad to think that some things never changed. She liked to think that she had though – wiser, stronger, more willing to say her piece than the timid shy girl she had been when they were together. Definitely not scared to start an argument with him now.

“Y’know, I often think of how close we were to physical violence; a few more months maybe? Would it have started then?”

“What the fuck, Lucy”

“Well you definitely had the emotional abuse down Johnny”

“What? You’re crazy”

“Remember that night? The beginning of the end? It all started because you uttered the words, “If you don’t come over than you don’t love me”, that’s emotional blackmail Johnny, and what’s scary is you don’t even realise you do it”

He looked at her, not saying a word. Finally, something that made him speechless.

“I want to thank you though,” she continued, “You see I was kinda dumb to these things; some say that love is blind to faults, and it was only by you dumping me that I could begin to see clearly the kind of person you were. I saw clearly that you were a controlling, self-obsessed excuse for a man. That our relationship was surely on the edge of being deemed domestic abuse. I wanna thank you for releasing me sooner rather than later; for making me see the truth.”

She could see that he was trying to prepare an argument, his defence to dispute everything she had just said, so she calmly got up, kissed him on the cheek and walked away.


[472 words]

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Filed under emotional, flash fiction

A Natural End


I sat opposite her, an uncomfortable silence hung in the air between us; like we were strangers unsure of what to talk about. I didn’t feel the need or urge to tell her anything. Everything we’d usually talk about just didn’t seem of importance – we didn’t want to talk anymore.

We fiddled with our phones, looked at our watches – not taking in the time at all – and looked around at the other people. We used to come to this bar all of the time, but now we didn’t recognise anybody. They were all strangers now, just like she was to me.

Several years and I didn’t feel anything for her anymore. All of the memories felt dull and repetitive. I didn’t want to be with her now, and I could tell she felt the same way. There’s no point holding onto a relationship that doesn’t bring you joy right? No point clinging to somebody who makes things feel like a chore rather than a pleasure. This relationship only survived out of a sense of duty to each other I guess; to somebody who has been in my life for so long.

It’s not like we hate each other; no argument, no bad feelings. We’ve just… run our course.

It happens to everyone. You just grow apart, develop different interests, evolve as a person. No matter how big of a part they play in your life, you can’t always be the same, or change in the same way. That’s just the way it is I thought.

I needed to end the silence that hung between us.

“I know we’ve known each other since school; been through a lot together… but do you think it’s time to admit that our friendship is over now?”


[292 words]

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Filed under creative writing, flash fiction, inspired by real life, twist endings

The Mystery of Her


Day after day, year after year, he had said nothing of his affections. He often thought about doing so, of coming right out with it but he just couldn’t do it. Scared of more rejection, the fear of being even more alone if she spurned him. The one time he did try to tell her he got all flustered and was tripping over his words; he felt like an utter buffoon and came out with something else instead that made him feel completely foolish and left him too self-conscious. It was then he decided that having her as a friend was better than nothing at all, and all though he was completely infatuated with her, he would tell her nothing of his feelings.

They had met at the bookstore, bonded over a love of greek mythology, and since then remained good friends, meeting up a few times a week. She had told him of some on-off boyfriend but other than that she was a mystery to him, a complete enigma. In some ways he thought he knew her but often she would say or do something that made him think he didn’t. Somedays she would be perfectly normal, chatty and friendly, but sometimes she would speak in riddles, avoid answering questions, and always be looking around, almost disinterested.

The chatty friendly version of her became more frequent in their meetings, and whilst he yearned for her to feel the same as he did, he never acted upon his feelings.

One day, he received a phone call from some man. This man was a brother she had never mentioned before who wept down the phone as he told of how she had died in a car accident a few days before. He hung up the phone; not listening to the details of what had happened. He was in shock. He did not want to believe that she was dead.


It took him a long time to bring himself round to visiting her grave. He wanted to do it, say one final goodbye, but it was too hard, too emotional. When he finally convinced himself to go, he stood at her headstone for some time before eventually, with a single tear strolling down his cheek he whispered,

“I love you” his chest heaved and his tears came stronger and harder.

“I love you too” came an emotional voice from behind him.

Slowly turning around, his eyes rested upon her. At the mere sight of her it felt like his heart was going to jump out of his throat.

There she stood, even more beautiful than he remembered. He couldn’t move, stricken with confusion and overwhelming love. The two looked and smiled at each other before he finally strode toward her, full of confidence he had never experienced before, pulled her into his arms, kissed her and held her like he was never going to let go.

“I thought you were dead” he exclaimed through tears of happiness

Nodding, she pulled away from him and took something out of her pocket to show him.

It was an ID card. Underneath the logo of Her Majesty’s Government was a photo of her, next to a name he didn’t recognise.

“Let’s go back to yours,” she suggested, “I’ve got some explaining to do”


Filed under based on writing exercises, creative writing, emotional, flash fiction, Uncategorized

The Girl in the Green Tshirt

The idea for this story came about whilst thinking about break-ups and how people dread running into their exes. I thought it was a decent idea and makes for a really good piece of flash fiction. I hope you enjoy it too.
SK …

The memory of her haunts me. I always regretted what I did to her; she didn’t deserve it. I was a selfish coward and it caused her pain. Friends tell me she has moved on, that she forgives me, but I don’t think I can forgive myself. I know deep down it still hurts her to think of me; I know her better than they do.

My soul becomes heavy whenever I think of her; my heart always stops whenever I think I see her; sometimes it’s just someone who looks similar, but occasionally, I swear it is her. The guys think I am going mad but it is definitely her. I only ever see her for a brief moment and always in a pale green t-shirt and skin tight jeans; a ghost haunting me. I have to keep reminding myself that she’s not dead, she can’t be a ghost.

Maybe my mind is just playing tricks on itself, a sign of my guilty conscience wishing it could turn back the hands of time. It’s true what they say, you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. And I made her go; a single moment of weakness that completely changed our lives. I broke her, and I can’t forgive myself.

I picture her everywhere I go, tormented by what I did. I can forget sometimes, allowing myself to relax and enjoy myself a little but then I think I see her, pale green t-shirt and skin tight jeans, shimmying across the pub, or across the street and out of sight, breaking the calm that had briefly settled over me. Sometimes it’s like this phantom of my imagination is mocking me, looking over her shoulder and smirking at me, a glint of evil in her hazel eyes.

I’ve heard that she has moved on with her life, that I need to move on too; but how can I? Everywhere I go I’m reminded of her, even think I see her. Maybe I am going mad. Maybe I am destined to be tormented for the rest of my life as punishment for what I did.

  
It was just a coincidence that the first few times I saw him after our awful break up I was wearing pretty much the same outfit. Whilst part of me had wanted him to see me in something sexier to make him realise what he was missing, I did find it humorous that I was wearing the same outfit like ghosts seem to do in the movies. This gave me the idea of pretending to haunt him. I knew where he lived, where he worked, and where he went out with his buddies. All I had to do was walk on by.

It wasn’t much of a plan but I wanted to mess with his head a little, have some fun of my own after what he did to me.

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Filed under creative writing, emotional, inspired by real life, twist endings

The Village Mob

Wow. Can’t quite believe it has been so long since I last posted a piece of flash fiction. I don’t have any excuses really… just life and a lack of great ideas. This new story though was inspired by people who interfere in other people’s lives, who make assumptions and judge before getting to know the real facts. I’ve really tried to create an old style fairy-tale with the imagery used. I hope you enjoy it. SK.

The mob of villagers chased her down. Pitchforks and burning torches were thrust dramatically into the rainy sky like trophies as they followed her, after her blood.

With her heart pounding out of her chest, her legs weak with fear she ran. They chased her, followed her, as she ran beyond the village, and through the rotting undergrowth of the woodland floor. Weaving her way through, she hoped they would trip over roots, be caught amongst the branches, and fall over each other, injuring themselves with their own makeshift weapons.

She ignored the tearing of her dress and skin on the thick bramble, using all her energy and adrenaline to keep moving forward. She had no idea where she was going, hoping that the villagers would tire and give up before she did.

As she advanced deeper into the woods, she lost her balance several times trying to navigate through the darkness; eventually catching her foot and falling to the ground.

Her ankle had twisted; she tried to get back up but couldn’t bear weight on it, falling to the ground again. The orange glow of burning torches grew bigger, faded chants became stronger. She remained on the ground, the rain becoming heavier, stinging her skin, as she awaited her fate.

If she had known that dating the local nice guy would end up like this, she wouldn’t have agreed to go out with him. She knew how into each other’s businesses the entire village were, but didn’t think that splitting up with him would bring so much trouble.

“There she is!” someone shouted. And within seconds, she was surrounded.
Unmoving, she remained where she was, looking up to the canopy above, rain still falling.

“How could you dump him?”

“He’s such a nice guy!”

“You were using him weren’t you?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” she sat up to defend herself. “Yes, I dumped him. But not because I’m just that mean. I dumped him, because he cheated on me! God, where do you get this information? You just make assumptions don’t you? You listen to idle gossip and never care for getting the real facts; never believing that the local “nice guy” could ever do such a thing.”

The villagers were silent, stunned by her outburst, stunned by the truth. The local nice guy wasn’t that nice after all.

They helped her to her feet, and started back toward the village; using pitchforks as walking aides and remaining in relative silence, they let the events of that night wash away.

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Filed under creative writing, fairytale, inspired by real life

Curiosity Killed the Cat

A little exercise in creating tension and mystery. I like to think that I haven’t done too badly, but either way, I would love to receive any comments or feedback. Happy reading, SK.


No one was home, but she felt the need to tiptoe, moving swiftly and easily around the living room. She had no idea what she was looking but knew there had to be something. He had changed and she needed to know why. She couldn’t explain it; she just felt it in her gut that something was not right. Sometimes he acted perfectly normal, but other times he was overcompensating for something, definitely indicating his guilty conscience.

She snooped and spied amongst his possessions but everything was in its place, meticulously organised as always. Nothing out of the ordinary. She rummaged through his office; maybe there was a paper trail that would lead to the truth. Nothing. Becoming frantic she started searching every single cupboard and drawer in the house. There had to be something to confirm her suspicions, to satisfy her curiosity.

Looking at the clock, knowing he would soon be home, she was about to give up, pulling out one last drawer. In her disappointed, unsatisfied state, she pulled the drawer completely out of the unit, noticing something very shiny and very black hidden in the space beneath it. A small, locked box she had never seen before.

A renewed vigour pulsed through her veins. She was about to get some answers. Feeling time running out, she frantically picked at it, forcing it open so she could finally know his secrets.

Flicking through every item in that box, realisation slowly formed and her heart palpitated as the truth sunk in. what she didn’t know, however, was that in her flustered attempt to get the box open and reveal its contents, her husband had arrived home.

And there, sitting on the floor of the living room, the true identity of her husband before her, she inhaled her last breath. She should not have found out what she did, so he had to kill her.


Filed under based on writing exercises, creative writing, mystery, thriller


I should probably state from the outset that this piece is about domestic violence. I have written on this subject before but in this piece I’m trying to be different by writing from the perspective of the abuser. I am aware that not all “abusers” are like this, and that domestic violence is never this simple; I’m just trying something. I hope that you like it. SK

I awoke in an empty bed. Stacey was gone. I noticed bruising on my knuckles and instantly grew frustrated with myself. Letting out a heavy sigh, I reclined back down, brought her pillow to my face and with a growl, I let out my frustrations.

I had been doing so well, learning to control my temper, to voice my concerns calmly and rationally. I was becoming a better man for her. But when I got angry I was like a monster unleashed who didn’t care who he hurt. I couldn’t even remember what had made me angry last night; what had set me off. I don’t remember hitting anything. Must be getting worse if I don’t even remember lashing out. Maybe I should double up on the counselling sessions, spend a little time away from Stacey, give her a break from me; that’s if she hasn’t left me for good. Not that I would blame her; she deserves so much better than me.

I really wasn’t a bad guy. I didn’t stop her seeing her friends or tell her how to dress – I just got angry over sometimes stupid things, we’d have blazing rows and then I would just see red.

I lay in that bed, frustrated, but talking myself through the steps, calming myself down. I heard the front door open and close. Unsure of what to do, not remembering that I lashed out at her, I stayed where I was as Stacey approached the bedroom.

“Hey you” she chirped, “got us some coffee”

She reached out her hand to give me the still hot Starbucks cup.

“I thought you had left me?” I uttered, somewhat confused

Stacey looked at me, also confused.

“You were gone… my knuckles are bruised… I thought that you had left me because I hit you again”

“You didn’t hit me” she replied

Then she smiled and pointed at something behind me. Turning, I saw that my bedside table had a fist-sized dent in it.

“Happened about three o’clock this morning, I did get a little scared and went downstairs, but when I came back you were still spark out and looked calm and peaceful.”

“I hit the bedside table? It still could’ve been you; what if I hit you in my sleep?”

“Honey, the doctor says you’ve come on really well; you can speak to her about it if you’re really concerned, but you are doing so much better”

A sense of calm saturated me as she said this. I knew she meant it and right there, I fell a little bit more in love with her.


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Filed under based on writing exercises, twist endings