Life is a Blue Cloud

Posted on July 28, 2016 by Susi Lovell

In the café, a motley assortment of furniture: mismatched wooden kitchen chairs, a leather arm chair worn through in places to the horsehair, old school desks, ancient sofas.

arm chair

On the wall faded maps show countries and boundaries that disappeared decades ago.

That table reminds her of the one they’d had at home when she was a kid, square with flaps on opposite sides that you pulled out for birthdays and Christmas.

She chooses the green velvet loveseat. The springs have gone and she sinks further down than she expected.

The coffeemaker launches into action, grinding and thumping and hissing. Used to be Continue reading →

Prunella Plume, in the Bedroom, with Sulphate of Zinc?

Posted on July 21, 2016 by Susi Lovell

The devil is in the details.

Mrs. DeLacey was found in her bedroom at 08.28 by her housekeeper Dolores Pritchitt when she brought Mrs. DeLacey her morning coffee. On the bedside table were the cup containing the remains of Mrs. DeLacey’s hot chocolate and two digestive biscuits. Dolores Pritchitt says she knew mischief was afoot the moment she saw the digestive biscuits. Mrs. Delacey was not one to let a digestive biscuit go uneaten.

Prunella Plume is missing. So too is her new green car.

This much we know for a fact.

A quick deduction would lead us to the logical assumption that Prunella Plume was the perpetrator of this vile, heinous and despicable act.

However…

Let us examine the details:

Item 1: The keys. Did Prunella Plume use them to let herself out of the house after committing the dastardly crime? If so, why did she go back inside to Continue reading →

Walking Down Walls

Posted on July 14, 2016 by Susi Lovell

Looking up, he saw the girl half-open a window on the sixth floor, squeeze through it and walk down the wall to the street.

“The party was a bust,” she explained.

Her voice was flat, thin, a little nasal. He wondered if that was caused by her having walked down the wall. Resistance to gravity must surely have an effect on the nasal passages. She was extraordinarily pale under the streetlights.

“Do you need special shoes to do that?” he asked.

“Do what?” She walked with an easy stride that seemed to cover inordinate Continue reading →

The Opposite End of the Rainbow

Posted on July 7, 2016 by Susi Lovell

rainbow

When she arrived at the end of the rainbow, she immediately pulled a shovel out of her backpack and started digging.

“Excuse me,” the sheep said. “I know this is going to be upsetting…” His voice was sympathetic and kindly. “But…”

She dug furiously. Her t-shirt was already stained with sweat.

“I should tell you right away that…”

She threw the shovel aside and crouched down to scoop out the earth with her hands.

“…this is Continue reading →

Cat of Malice

Posted on June 16, 2016 by Susi Lovell

Alice snatched Mr. Sporratt’s cat when he went inside his house to fetch the clippers to trim his prize rose bush.

She was surprised at herself.

She knew she hated Mr. Sporratt’s cat, the way it sat on the wall staring at her, flicking its tail from side to side. She felt in her bones it was a cat of pure malice.

But there had been no plan to snatch the cat, no premeditation.

The problem was, now that she had Mr. Sporratt’s cat, what was she to do with it?

And why was it not trying to escape? Why was it Continue reading →

No.6 – House of Ghosts

Posted on June 9, 2016 by Susi Lovell

My house – number 6 – is a house of ghosts.

I know because when I turn around the old lady is standing there, right behind me.

“This is my house now.” I tell her firmly. “It’s time for you to go.”

I don’t want to be unkind but it’s very disconcerting to have someone, however insubstantial, wafting around, appearing when you least expect or want it. In the kitchen, when I’m experimenting with a complicated new recipe. In the bathtub, soaking in the fragrant foam. Changing a light bulb, teetering at the top of the stepladder, the little screws between my teeth, about to drop the glass cover.

Sometimes her husband comes with her. I assume he’s her husband. He’s a little more wizened, a little more stooped than her. He stays behind her, his shadowy body averted as though he’s embarrassed to be inconveniencing me like this. He’s showing me by his stance that he’s apologizing for this intrusion. I feel he wants me to know that she’s doing this against his advice, that it’s not his idea.

At least he has boundaries. He never appears when I’m in the bath. That really would be the limit. And he never appears alone. I suspect he is Continue reading →

The Bundle of Spare Dreams

Posted on June 2, 2016 by Susi Lovell

She has so many dreams. Far too many.

Surely she could spare a few for those less fortunate, who don’t have any at all?

This one she doesn’t need any more, the one about becoming a famous film star (with her teeth? stupid, stupid).

Nor this one about becoming a concert pianist (almost…no, nowhere near).

As for the dream about losing fifty pounds in four weeks, that dream has hardly been used. It’s as good as new. Someone could Continue reading →

The Ecstasy of Jubilation Theory!

Posted on May 26, 2016 by Susi Lovell

Hi! I’m Julie, Jubilation Facilitator, level 5, and I’m on breakfast duty right now, waiting for Mr. Joneses to come down.

I love being on breakfast duty.

“Where’s our ju-ju-jubilant face this morning?” I sing out as Mr. Joneses comes down the stairs.

He grabs his head in both hands and sags at the knees. I’m not discouraged. I’ve seen it before. That’s exactly what The Ecstasy of Jubilation Center (the Jube-Cube as we insiders call it) is here for.

“Remember Theory Number 3?” I take his elbow and allow a note of Continue reading →

Witch’s Chair

Posted on May 19, 2016 by Susi Lovell

That Cedric and his horned serpents!

But then he’s always been an odd one. Those eyes! One green, one white!

Is it true that means he’s a witch? Or half-witch, seeing as only one eye is white.

The girls go mad for him. I don’t understand it. He’s nothing but an uneducated lout who likes playing in the dirt.

And that punk hair! The stupid hat!

Those serpents drive me crazy. Why couldn’t he have rabbits or guinea pigs like any normal person? I have to call him twenty-five times a day to come and get them out of my vegetable garden.

You wouldn’t believe how arrogant he is, the way he struts about town as if everyone has nothing better to do than look at him. Well, he’ll find out soon enough he won’t always be a pretty face (if you’re the sort of person who thinks that kind of tough watch-me-climb-out-of-the-earth face is pretty).

The chief of police is insisting Cedric undergo the witch test.

Cedric says Continue reading →

Pushing Through To The Back Of The Bus

Posted on May 12, 2016 by Susi Lovell

When Terry begins scrolling through her phone, none of the photos she finds are hers.

Only seven this morning. That’s a blessing. Sometimes there are as many as two dozen. At first (two months ago? four? more?) she’d deleted them as quickly as they came in. But now she checks each one.

There’s never anything extraordinary or striking about the photos, nothing indecent that would prove embarrassing if the people in them were identified. In fact there are no people in them.

She’s done everything possible – changed her ID, the app, her password, had the store clean the phone and return it to factory default, and even bought a new phone. Still the photos keep coming.

And her photos?

She no longer takes photos. They don’t show up on her phone anyway. The only photos she sees are someone else’s.

She goes through the seven photos as she eats her bowl of cornflakes. Taken from Continue reading →

Susi Lovell

short story writer

Tag Archives: flash fiction