Champagne by Samuel Gore

Champagne. The champion of drinks. It’s all there in the name. My name is Bill Hicks. I started this bottle at three. Two bottles later and I are on the ground, that’ll teach me to climb a tree, when I can’t get down. Tell me, lover. Will you go to bed with me, Don’t worry I have a rubber, see? Oh shit...

Luna Landscape by Samuel Gore

‘Ok Solar, I don’t know why we have stupid names.’ Luna said.

The two sisters were sitting in the corner of their local Costa, drinking black coffee.

‘Seriously though, what was mum thinking?’ She poured another two packets of sugar and stirred furiously. ‘I can’t even talk to a guy when I’m out because of this ridiculous name.’

Luna looked at her sister. ‘I think it was dad actually. It seems like his kind of humour. We should probably visit them, it’s been three months.’

‘Four, it was Christmas. Damn this coffee, it doesn’t matter how much sugar I put in.’ Solar said.

‘It sits on the bottom,’ Solar went for another sugar packet. ‘No you’ve put so much in, it’s insoluble.’

Solar huffed and sat back in her chair. ‘Should have got a hot chocolate, I hate social pressure.’

Luna laughed, ‘What?’

‘You know, adults drinking hot chocolate in public. You get funny looks.’

‘You’re just being stupid. No-one cares.’

‘They would if they knew I was called Solar. Anyway you done?’

Luna nodded, and drank the last of her coffee. The two girls stood up and left. Outside, the sun had disappeared behind a snow threatening cloud. Solar smiled.

‘I guess it could be worse, at least I’m not Ular. He’s such a brat.’

‘Handy for when you want ice though. Remember that time he covered the entire kitchen in the stuff, Dad threatened to flood his house. Ah, I miss those parties.’ Lunar said. ‘Are you cold? I should have dressed warmer.’

Solar gave her twin sister a condescending look. ‘I’m sorry, stupid question.’

After a quick glance to make sure no-one was watching, Solar moved her hands in a wide circle. The clouds above disintegrated, letting the sun shine through.

‘Warmest April on record, if only they knew.’ The girls walked down the high street, basking in the warm glow.

Fireside by Samuel Gore

Fire beats Ice

Ice beats Rock

Rock beats scissors

Scissors beats paper

Paper beats possibility

Possibility beats procrastination

Procrastination beats studying

Studying beats flash fiction.

Velvet Ribbon by Samuel Gore

‘I just don’t get this; I mean he’s stapled a ribbon to a canvas.’ Michelle said

‘It’s obviously trying to correlate between the space and order in our lives. See the way it sweeps down, in an almost natural position.’ Claire responded, pushing her hair out of her face and behind her ear.

‘Sounds like bollocks to me, ooh what’s over there?’

She pointed to a cornered off section of the gallery, where a security guard with a walkie talkie stood vigilant.

‘Come on Claire,’ she said, as she grabbed her friends arm.

‘Alright, I’m coming; you don’t have to drag me.’ She was nearly half the size of her friend, as Michelle was six foot five.

‘I think I’ve found you your perfect man,’ hinting at the security man, ‘he’s bald and everything.’

‘Oh, you’re so funny. Just because Dave was bald, that doesn’t mean anything.’ Dave being her ex and only boyfriend. It was hard finding a man that measured up.

High Society by Samuel Gore

Stuart Messlebrush, a stoic figure of fifty three visited McDonalds for the first time today. He was with his wife Irene, and as they had made no reservations, they thought they should experiment. On the table next to them sat a young man eating a wrap that was quite obviously listening and was making no attempt to hide it.

‘Is he still looking at us,’ Irene whispered in her native Winchester accent.

‘Don’t look at him, dear. Just enjoy your meal, and we’ll head to the theatre with the more refined folk. This evening can still be salvaged.’

‘He looks so thin, maybe we should talk to him.’

‘No dear, he’s just a stray; you don’t know where he’s been. Leave him be. Remember the last one?’

Irene looked down at her food and sighed. ‘I was so fond of little George.’

Stuart looked at his Big Mac and wished he had brought some silver cutlery with him. ‘Yes, for a month. Then we came back and the rascal had stolen your jewellery. No doubt pawned it for heroin.’

‘Now, now dear. We don’t know that for sure. Maybe one of his many siblings had leukaemia and couldn’t pay the hospital bill, or the vet or where ever these people go. I’m sure he wouldn’t have gone without saying goodbye unless it was urgent.’

Stuart spluttered on a lump of beef, coughing the meat into a napkin. He folded it into a neat triangle. ‘Fine talk to the critter. But don’t blame me when he takes all your brooches.’

She turned to face the young man, who was looking down at his phone, pretending to type.

‘You there, do you have a home to go to?

The boy looked at her with wide eyes and a blank expression on his face, clearly exasperated. ‘I do, yes.’

‘Oh, well that’s good. Tell me, have you ever been to the theatre?’

Again the boy looked at her wearily. Stuart coughed and gave his wife a questioning look.

‘I’m sorry son; my wife get’s carried away. You go back to your phone.’

Grateful of the gentlemen’s offer, his gaze returned to the screen.

‘See dear, not everyone wants to come with us.’

Irene picked up one of her fries attentively. ‘Oh I guess so. It’s a shame; he’s such a pretty little thing.’

As the boy left, she watched him with sadness. They ate the rest of their meal in silence until there was nothing left.
‘He would have made such a good pet don’t you think.’