Writing A Book

We slide into the near-side lane and I sense him relax once we’re in line, absorbed into the stream of vehicles. He stretches in his seat, making himself more comfortable for the ride.

There are half a dozen people in the operating theatre, talking in a relaxed manner. My body on the table is just one of many they will see today. They make lots of eye contact… 

“Do you want to press the button?” he asks me. All I can see are his eyes. He’s wearing a black balaclava, a black sweatshirt, trousers and boots.

His wife came out of the kitchen, wearing a dress. Unusual.
“Hi gorgeous,” she said, with lipsticky smile.

The dragon stared back at her. It had vibrant red scales covering its body and a devilishly forked tail. Its eyes were as black and glossy as oil.

When she heard the key in the lock, her stomach twisted and lurched. Flash fiction by Faye Williams.

She came home to say goodbye to her mother. But returning to the place she’d grown up would mean confronting a past she’d spent years trying to forget.