The memory crept towards him like a plant. The vapourless air engulfed him. The moistureless dust choked him. Then, beneath a roof and a bucket, there billowed the shadow of climbing jasmine on a floor. A stone circlet suddenly widened. A disc of black water came glittering up a shaft. Her blue eyes brightened. Her soft hands coiled. Her white smile sweetened and ripened and swelled. A smell of hot pastry twisted and tightened. Coffee gripped. Wood roasted and cricked. A grain of spice cracked in two like a seedpod. Small stars bloomed and ripped the shell of his heart.
has been interested in flash fiction ever since 2016 when he received Flash Fiction Forward (ed. James Thomas and Robert Shapard) as a surprise gift. He read the first page and was hooked and he has been ever since. His work has been published by Every Day Fiction and Flash Frontier, as well as some other excellent lit-zines, and can also be found in two books published by Ad Hoc Fiction. He works as an editor and lives with his wife and two children in Devon, England.
