Why I don’t remember my Aunt Letty by E F Fluff

I was seven or eight when my parent told me I was adopted. It happened over dinner. “Yeah” Flippant, I was initially too worried whether there would be enough gravy for me to make my potato swamp. It wasn’t a big deal – I think I’d always known – like I’d always known I was…

Mittens and The Economist by E F Fluff

They told me he deserves what he had coming to him. That it was about time. That, he’d always been a bit of an asshole. It was a wonder it’d taken so long. They often say that.   An asshole? When we were young, when we were kids; he always hit to hurt. Always went…

Warm Snow by E F Fluff

It’s so cold the pink-dappled-green-brown-bubbled phlegm just sits on top of the snow. Normally it’d sink down a bit. There’s no time to the memory. It becomes endlessly repeating. The room is small. As you walk in, to your right, the entire wall was a mirrored wardrobe. Two-fifths of this was side-by-side shoe racks, another,…

The strange tale of the Disco Loris by EF Fluff

The strange tale of the Disco Loris I met him at a rave. Or, to be more exact, the after-rave of a rave. He was a blonde, whippet skinny, and a skater. He mumbled, and spoke in constant oscillation from normal to almost incomprehensible nasty comment peppered sub-frequencies, and on to furious infrasound muttering. He…