fiction — Short Stories — Dominic Andrew

When Life Was Simpler

He sees that the Thunderbird is sweating, thick beads clinging to his tall forehead, running from the thatch of dirty blonde hair. Perhaps Scott is going to sample the coffee as well, or maybe a pot of tea. Perhaps Scott will sit in the sun alone, enjoying the sunshine and his beverage, without being pestered by the shortness of life. Perhaps Scott will worry less about the running down of the clock and simply enjoy the time he has instead of arguing with his girlfriend; wasting time in a pointless skirmish.

The Drive Home

I’m minutes from home now. Then it will be changing, unpacking, washing up, sorting dinner, exercise and calling mum. Then we will watch the latest TV series; the one endless social media adverts have told us to enjoy. Once we’ve unplugged ourselves from that we will then, irrefutably, go to bed. She will sleep. I will endure the six or seven hours of half-sleep afforded to me by the dregs of the day.

Fiction short storyDominic AndrewDecember 20, 2020short stories, short story, fiction, author, new authorComment

The Fluoxetine Diaries

You pay tenfold for the drinks you consumed the night before, you regret the takeaway you drunkenly ate, you taste acrid smoke and ash in your mouth but still feel compelled to finish the packet of cigarettes you bought on a whim. Endless, reckless, destructive cycles.