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Flash Fortnightly #11

3 Apr

Words 2

Welcome to Flash Fortnightly!

Laura Besley

My name is Laura Besley and I’m an EFL (English as a Foreign Language) teacher. Over the years I’ve met thousands of students of all ages from many different countries in the world. This job really suits me as I love meeting people and learning about different languages and cultures. After working in England for a couple of years, I moved to Düsseldorf, Germany, where I taught Business English for two years and now I’m living in Hong Kong. This small pocket of Asia is a perfect blend of East meets West and is rich in colour, noise and inspiration.

That brings me nicely onto writing. I’ve been writing on and off since childhood and did my degree in English Literature and Film Studies. When I was in Germany I started writing a bit more regularly and in Hong Kong I’ve really had the time to dedicate to my writing. In 2011 I joined the Hong Kong Writers Circle and a critique group which allowed me to start looking at my work with a more critical eye. On 4th May 2012 I embarked on a project to write one piece of flash fiction a day. I’ve always seen myself as a novelist, but actually I’ve found that I really love writing short pieces as it gives you plenty of room to experiment with style, voice, characters and settings. And each day I can write something new.

I hope you enjoy this ‘Flash Fortnightly’ entry and I’ll be back on Wednesday 17th April 2013 with some more…



Samuel kept dreaming that she would leave him. Despite his nocturnal warnings, he was unprepared when he woke up one spring morning to find the space that she had occupied in his life for nearly forty years, empty.

Throughout his entire life Samuel had had strange dreams. Some were thrilling, others upsetting, but before he’d reached adulthood he realised they represented not only his day-time reality, but often his future too. He knew he was going to marry the butcher’s daughter, with the long wavy hair and eyes the colour of moss, before he even knew her name. Five years into their marriage he had struggled to convince her to keep trying after the second miscarriage, but he knew they would have two sons and a daughter, all as beautiful as their mother and as strong as the farm animals they kept.

His heart was beating as fast as a frightened animal the first time he awoke after the dream about her leaving. He quickly rolled over and stroked her pale face. She woke up and his coal-coloured eyes pleaded to hers. ‘Don’t leave me,’ he whispered.
‘Of course I won’t,’ she said, her green eyes now faded.

But the eyes lied.

In the depths of winter that same year, she returned as if she’d never been away. He walked back in from the stables to find her sitting on a kitchen chair, life-like. ‘Darling,’ he found himself saying, ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘And I you,’ she replied.
‘Don’t leave me again.’
‘No, I’ll wait right here for you.’

Laura Besley

I wrote this piece a long time ago, on 29th June 2012 to be precise. Sometimes when I look back over old pieces I’m unsatisfied and know that they will never see the light of day. Other times I can be pleasantly surprised by what I find in my archives. I hope you enjoy this piece.

If you’d like to check out more of my writing, flash fiction and non-fiction, check out my blog: Living Loving and Writing. Or you can follow me on twitter @laurabesley or connect on facebook Laura Besley Writer

Frenzy’s Flash Feature #11

23 May


Welcome To Frenzy’s Flash Feature!

Your fortnightly Poetry/Photo Combo with Greg Mackie

Poet, dreamer, self-confessed idiot. Addicted to chocolate and crisps, he regrets having cancelled his last two dental appointments. Attempts to write stuff.

We hope you enjoy this  ‘Frenzy’s Flash Feature’ entry. Greg will be be back with another great combination on Thursday 6th June 2013


>>>>>>>>> Photo Effects-



by Greg Mackie


Every morning,

my cat,

jumps onto the kitchen table,

steals a milk top, 

jumps down,

drops it on the floor,

walks past,


pretending to see it for the first time,  

(he’s a great actor)

pounces on it, 

takes it between his paws, 

pops it back into his mouth – 

and then repeats the whole scene,

about 40 times.



the sound of plastic, 

bouncing, scraping, screeching,

on a wooden floor

drives me mad

and I throw a shoe at him –

although not really;

because he’s just following

my bad example.


Every evening,

when the kids are sleeping,

I take a tub of ice cream,

and put it on the kitchen table,

and walk past it,


pretending to see it for the first time,

(I deserve an Oscar) 

take just a spoonful –

and then I repeat the whole scene,

about 40 times.



all the ice-cream is gone,

and nobody, 


throws a shoe at me, either.



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