I read two flash fiction pieces, Unarmed Combat and Round Pond, at Flash in Hand, Bristol, on 26th November.
It's a pleasant day in early April. Winter is no more than a memory and today we are learning how to kill people. Or maim them. Maybe both. I'm not sure yet.Together we chant the sergeant's mantra:
On fine spring days, my mother and I take the number 52 bus — "a tuppenny and a penny, please" — to the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens. Today, however, I'm with Father and we have travelled here by taxi. I'm holding my solid, blue sailing-boat which we'll sail together, like other fathers and sons, although this is not something we have ever done before.