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The Stillness of Fields

I have a story published over at Ellipsis Zine today. Really pleased to see it up on the site, in amongst all the other pieces of great flash fiction. Hope you like it.

Full link hereĀ http://www.ellipsiszine.com/the-stillness-of-fields-by-paul-thompson/

 

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Birdsong

The music almost kills me today.

It is a childhood memory. The song that would play as my father hunted and brought local wildlife to the garage. It would play as I cried for my mother, begging her not to go to work. Terrified of spending time with this hulk of a man.

Continue reading “Birdsong”

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The Sands of Time

Time is catching up with us once more.

We run towards the safety of the hills, another time-stop due any minute. All around us we see plants no longer wavering in the breeze, clouds rolling to a halt, footsteps now silent as we run.

Continue reading “The Sands of Time”

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The Path of Lights

Something outside the tent wakes her.

Her boyfriend is asleep and immovable, despite the music still playing outside. She clambers over him to find a string of lights outside their tent, weaving across the festival field and out into the woods beyond.

Continue reading “The Path of Lights”

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Enjoy the Silence

For two years the noises are inside my head, an inescapable ringing and buzzing that the consultants are unable to correct. Test results show the condition to be slowly worsening, and my days are spent craving a silence, an escape from the internal ringing that keeps me awake and unable to function.

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Pack Your Bags

They argue over everything, especially when it comes to packing the car.

Her approach is to plan ahead and pack methodically, whereas he grabs items on sight and packs with brute force.
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We Steal From Shops

We steal from shops.

It starts with small newsagents, one of us daring the other to take a pen or a packet of sweets. Gradually we move on to larger targets – supermarkets and corporate stores. Taking turns to steal something of ever more value, gaining the respect of our peer group.

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Fancy Dress

A timid knock at the door.

Trick or Treat!

I open the door to find two Triffids standing on the doorstep. Costumes of incredible detail. Textures organic. Flower heads glistening under pumpkin lanterns.

Trick or Treat! they repeat.
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Low Tide

During low tide we search for remnants of the conflict.

Every day brings with it a new surprise. A gift from the battle upstream. Metallic objects washing up on the shore, many of them alien and no longer of use. Military uniforms floating by like leaves. Body parts settling in oily reflections.
Continue reading “Low Tide”

The Observers

We watch her from the safety of the forest.

Every morning she wanders out into her yard, placing the cups on the three fence posts before returning back inside. Here they remain untouched until nightfall. No animal ever comes to drink from them, and no human ever visits the cottage where they are placed.

Continue reading “The Observers”