This is my entry for Friday Fictioneers for 14th August 2015. I’ve decided to offer up a bit of dialogue today. Not done this in a while, but I’ve been trawling through my old blog posts and I used to spend a significant amount of time doing stories like this. In this case, I’ve arguably lifted a joke from Emma Donoghue’s Room (unbelievably, in the midst of a story like that, she found room for at least one) but I think it’s changed enough that I’m comfortable with it.
You’re probably already aware by now, but if you are interested, I’ve decided to make my short story anthology free until Friday. US readers can find it here and UK readers here. It’s available all over the world, including Australia, Canada and the Republic Of Ireland (though for some reason I can’t find a link). The bulk of the stories are set in provincial England but the themes should translate. All you have to do is download it, see what you think and consider posting a review.
Plug over, onto the story.
Thanks to Madison Woods for the photo.
(As a final note, apologies I haven’t found much time to return comments over the last couple of weeks. The process of launching my book has taken over most of my free time. Am hoping normal service will be resumed soon)
-Didn’t expect to see you here.
-Treating myself, aren’t I? A chap can’t live on orange segments and lettuce. ‘Sides, I’ll fly this off in no time.
-Not that I need to, mind. Our Papillon only has antennae for me. So, what brings you here.
-What about her?
-She won’t stop eating these days.
-Salami and sausage?
-She’s a teenager, isn’t she?
-So she is.
-I wouldn’t mind, but she left most of it.
-I hate waste. Still…
-Enjoy it while it lasts. She’ll eat you out of house and home and pretty soon she won’t be your little caterpillar anymore.