The Split

When I wrote this story, I remember thinking that it was quite funny, with a tinge of darkness. Now I see it online, I realise that it’s actually just dark, with a tinge of humour. Funny how your perceptions change. Anyway, exactly can divorcees split everything – including a small child – equally? Find out in Boinkzine here.

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I have two stories bookending the very lovely Black Noise Anthology (which you can buy here) – The Coffin Shop and The Man Who Married A Sandwich.

You can read both of those elsewhere on this site, but you should definitely buy the book as well because it’s full of excellent stories by other people too. Also it fits very snugly in the back pocket of a pair of jeans, which is always handy.

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Here’s a longer version of an old Ad Hoc Fiction contest entry that I haven’t been able to find a home for elsewhere, perhaps because it’s deeply, utterly nonsensical. But I like it, and I hope you do too, so here it is.

Doctor Fitzwilliam bent down to examine the baby in her mother’s lap. He frowned, heavy eyebrows forming a deep v-shape, like a caterpillar bent in half. He looked at the worried parent, back at the baby, then back to her mum.

‘Doctor, she’s turned blue. I’m so worried! What’s wrong with her?’

‘Mrs Howard,’ said Doctor Fitzwilliam, straightening up. ‘Is this some sort of joke?’

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