I remember the sparks of the bonfire, which scattered through darkness like schools of small fish. And I remember the flowing scarves of flame, which heated our chests through our damp plastic coats. I remember those dahlias in the sky. Our brightening faces. The glittering petals. And later, the shivering fingers, the match and the matchbox as we huddled beside the wood. The burning fuse that raced like a raindrop to the box of danger that I held in my hand. The smiting flash. The light-speed excision. I remember the cast. I remember laughing at my stump. It’s funny. There’s so much I remember. But your words of guidance I seem always to forget.
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.
