#FiveSentenceFiction: Furious

He was too small, his tiny fists in his pockets, shaking with rage. They mocked him, he was so young, they kicked him, the way bullies do, knowing there is no way their victim can strike bak, his little face went blue, smeared with tears and their spit. And, of course, later, he learnt, forContinue reading “#FiveSentenceFiction: Furious”

#FiveSentenceFiction: Words

She knew the signs: his knuckles slowly getting whiter, his steps a little slower, his eyes narrowing to the pitiless concentration of the street fighter. But he was so young, and yet always ready, his fists tight in his pockets: how could she not admire him, her virgin champion… He, had only eyes for her,Continue reading “#FiveSentenceFiction: Words”