I am absolutely thrilled to confirm that one of my flash fiction entries was selected by the popular short and flash fiction competition website secret attic.
The piece in question, a flash fiction of up to 300 words called ‘Buddies’, was created using a sentence the site asks you pick to use exactly as it’s written within your work. The quote I chose was “where to, mate?”.
My story was based on two co-workers (and best mates) enjoying a drink at their local and the conversation they have while they are there. The full piece is below.
I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank Secret Attic for absolutely making my day when the results were released. I never expect to be considered, maybe because I’m not very confident. But every time someone reads my work and feels they should tell others it’s worth reading, it’s a huge compliment.
I guess I need to start thinking about what I’m going to write for week 42 and the rest!
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Buddies
“I’ve got some news” They were sat in their favourite pub garden in Kent, enjoying time away from the office.
“Ok. What’s the news? Should I be worried?” They’d been work mates for years, like brothers. Without admitting it, they were clearly best friends.
“Well” Simon put his drink down and started fiddling with the bottle. Pete could tell he was nervous. “I’ve been offered a job”.
“That’s great! Finally, the promotion we’ve been waiting for. This calls for another round. Same again?” Pete batted away the moths from his wallet and got up.
“Hang on mate.” Simon cleared his throat nervously. “I’m moving.”.
His comment hung in the air invisibly for a moment.
“Where to, mate?” Thinking it would be a flash new apartment in Maidstone.
“Edinburgh. I’m moving to Scotland”.
There was a silence that seemed to last forever.
Simon felt guilty and sad but didn’t want to admit it.
Pete felt guilty and sad but didn’t want to admit it.
They’d helped each other climb the wobbly, complicated career ladder for years but never considered that eventually they’d move in different directions.
Pete sat back down. He didn’t need another drink.
“Oh, okay. When do you leave?” He regretted not sounding supportive. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you”
“I’m giving a month of notice” Simon had no ties to Maidstone, so taking the promotion wasn’t difficult. But realising there wouldn’t be any more pub visits, rubbish jokes or inane sports and romance chat, he felt gutted.
“Well, I’m going to need a new suitcase! What’s the scene like in Edinburgh? Plenty of bars and women?”
And just like that they were back to their old selves, laughing until their sides hurt about the endless adventures they would have in a new destination in a different pub garden.
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