Flash Fiction: Ghosts

The air is steel. Conversation splutters into it from the six strangers perched around the off-cream kitchen table. Their eyes stick and slide over each other or dart around the room. The padlocked cupboards. The fridges and freezers breeding battles. Already, someone’s dirty pan sits, forgotten, in a metal sink.

Two girls laugh loudest. The air is softer between them – more malleable but the two men, caught in a sea of females, cannot permeate the cold, hard, metal of the air. They are too different, apparently.

Ghosts crash through their minds as they talk – chasing each other round corridors – their shrieks and laughter and stomping feet loud and unafraid.

Six strangers sit around a kitchen table. Their ghosts fill the room: standing between them, linking them together.


6 thoughts on “Flash Fiction: Ghosts

  1. Ah, cool! This just popped up on my newsfeed. (I love your “right now I am reading…” thing — so much I might copy it? But only if it won’t bother you). Anyway, good blogging 🙂 see you Monday!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s