The First Kiss by Cameron Lawton

I wasn't going to let this happen.  I'd been let down so many times and love always ends in heartbreak.  Don't go there, girl.  Wrap your heart in solid steel and never let anyone in ............ever again.

When Pam introduced me to George I wasn't impressed.  He was ugly, clumsy and stand-offish.

I tried to make friends but he pissed on my shoe.  So I picked him up and looked in his eyes.  He was scared stiff.  Then it happened.  He kissed me.  Like puppies do - that first hesitant lick on the nose ... and I was sold, gone, completely lost.

I held his warm soft head to my face and felt tears coming.  So I'd lost my old collie and I'd evenutally lose this one but I'd fallen in love.  George was busy snuffling my neck and wriggling in closer.

"OK, Pam, OK, I'll take him."

You never get over your first kiss.

Testament by Dan Peacock

Drifting alone in deep space, it came across a little dead machine. It was inactive. A quick scan showed that it had been designed to study the planets that now lay years and years behind it. It was undoubtedly of extraterrestrial origin. Glyphs and pictorial marks were emblazoned across one side of the probe, and if it could have comprehended the alien scratchings it would have read Voyager 2.

            It decided to follow the probe’s trajectory in reverse, back to its point of origin. It would be a breakthrough for it. It was always on the lookout for new civilisations to nurture under its guidance.

            The probe’s path led it through a dense field of ice and rock, past two dwarf planets orbiting each other in a frozen tandem.  Then four gas giants, bulging under their own weight. After that, another ring of smashed and splintered rock; aborted planets, cosmic miscarriages.  Then another rocky planet, blanketed in a thin red dust.

            The next planet it came to was the probe’s point of origin. A giant sphere of blue and green, covered in seas of dihydrogen monoxide, the land lush with primitive vegetation.

            The planet’s orbit was littered with junk, mostly metallic objects similar to the probe it had encountered. None of them were active, and most had disintegrated following chance collisions with other bits of junk. It was a mess.

            Further down, on the planet’s surface, it found the remnants of a civilisation.  Ancient cities stood guard in silence, glass-granite towers staring out onto great scorched plains that still steamed in the sunlight. A little red icon flashed up on its display; trace amounts of radiation had been detected. Nothing to worry about. But worth noting.

            It circled the planet and found nothing of value. Analysis of the various ruins scattered across the planet’s surface showed that there had been a prosperous civilisation here once. It had fought amongst itself with projectile weaponry and burned complex hydrocarbons to power its great machines and left nothing behind. Nothing of value.

            It came to a halt when it saw a flash of movement across the ground, three thousand feet below. It swooped down and came across a small bipedal creature, trembling and gazing up at it. It was about one and a half metres tall and stood on two legs; its sensory equipment was gathered in a crude cluster on a bony outcrop that protruded upwards from the main body of the creature. It was naked and filthy.

            More of the creatures had come and were gathered around in groups, staring at it. A scan indicated that they were experiencing a complex mix of terror and wonder. Further analysis informed it of their primal language, their tribalistic culture - and their ancestry. Their history, passed down from creature to creature. It found something suitable.

            It came towards them.

            I am the Lord your God, it began, and you will have no other Gods before me.

Liquor Burning In The Throat by Antosh W

Is a simple way, to start the day and numb it beyond all meaning.

'Mayonnaise' by Brian Evans-Jones

Mayonnaise makes anything better. Dry bread, splitting tomatoes, limp celery. For anything on the turn - or past it - I slap it on in spoonfuls.

So I slap it onto him. How easily it slides over his cold, cold skin.

'Tub Affair' by Jessica McHugh

While she scrubbed his floors and cleaned his carpets, she never dreamt that she was his. While she did his laundry and made his bed, she never imagined his body pressed against hers. Despite the other employees' rumors and their flat-out lies, Susan never thought of him as anything but her boss.
But when she was alone, when Mr. Monroe was out of town and the other staff on a lower level of the house, Susan slipped off her uniform and gave in to what she coveted most.
Mr. Monroe hardly used the third floor bathroom. The seal on the bottle of bath salts was unbroken before Susan got to it, so she figured he'd never miss it. The whirlpool tub was an ivory giant hungry for her satisfaction. How could she refuse its generosity? She ran the water and gave herself over without a moment's regret. With her body massaged by eager jets, Susan could forget every other dirty job in her life: her alpile piles of bills, her louse of an ex-husband, her intrusive mother always hounding her to procreate (at this point, she didn't care with whom), and all of the rumors, of course.
Let the staff talk, she declared as the tub swallowed her sorrows. Let them spread their lies and say I'm sleeping with the boss. Hell, it's probably better to be known for sleeping with the boss than stealing from him.
Stealing. What a funny name for True Love.


Prompt: Girl Pool

'The Donut Stand' by J Adamthwaite

After a while, it’s the smallthings that make you happy: a man who accidentally hands you a pound coin withthe pennies; the girl with kind eyes who brings you coffee on her way home; anold woman who stops to chat for a moment while she rests her shopping bags. Butthere’s only one reason I sit here on a Saturday, watching the queues of peopleat the donut stand: it’s the second-hand donuts from people who buy more thanthey can eat, tempted by the smells of sugar and grease and warmed raspberryjam.


Prompt: Second-hand doughnuts

What God Is by Nick Johns

“How many times do I have to tell you? When you start creating something, make sure that you clearup afterwards. There are ingredients everywhere.  Oh! That’s disgusting! Come here, young man. I tappears to have developed a culture, you have left it so long. To think that this all started out as my recipe for primordial soup.”

He tuned the voiceout eventually; tired of being nagged by his Mum.

Miaow by Helena Nolan

Meena knows things. She knows a lot of things about the neighbours. For instance, she knows when the McCarthy's have sex. Mr McCarthy travels for work. Meena often sees his shiny silver car pull out of the driveway on a Monday or a Tuesday morning and it might not return until the Wednesday or even the Thursday night. When Meena sees the silver car back in its slot between the flowerbeds, she knows that the McCarthys are having sex. She has excellent hearing. Mr McCarthy looks like a man who needs a lot of sex, a man who would be anxious to make up for lost time on the road. Meena has no way of knowing if he has sex with anyone else while he is away. But she knows that Mrs McCarthy does. This happens when the pale blue car takes the place of the silver car in the McCarthy’s drive. The two cars are so similar, a casual observer could hardly tell them apart, but Meena can.

The pale blue car usually arrives later on the same day that the silver one leaves. It pulls up mid-morning and leaves mid-afternoon, when no one else is about, no one except Meena. She thinks of the man in the blue car as The Blue One, he always wears a blue shirt. It looks a bit like a uniform she has seen before, except the top buttons are undone. She thinks of Mr McCarthy as The Red One because his face is always so red and crinkled, like an old apple. The red man is smaller and wider than the blue man, who is very tall and thin and gleaming, like a fork. Neither of the men ever notices Meena at her window. She has been sitting there for so long now, it’s like she’s become invisible. One day when Meena peeks out, both cars are in the driveway at the same time. It's a tight squeeze. The house looks like it might explode at any moment. Even the glass in the windows seems to be trembling. Meena settles herself down to watch. She licks her paws and waits.

Treats by Sarah Grace Logan

It was a miracle we ever found the place. An emergency generator,
still ticking over after all these years, freezer still working.
Unbelievable. The three of us all stood before the shuddering,
groaning appliance and exchanged an anxious look. We were all scared
of finding it empty.

“You do it,” they both said, looking at me.

I took a deep breath and took hold of the smooth plastic handle. It
took me back. I pulled open the freezer.

Our hearts sank; it was empty. Wait—almost empty. Down at the bottom
was a small package, neatly wrapped. The label read ‘no nuts'. We
pocketed the last ever batch of brownies with gleeful faces.

Just Say Yes, by Helena Nolan

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single barmaid in possession of a large bossom must be in want of a man.

And she's not saying but she's thinking - take yer leery eye off me, you and yer awl bird and that leg going tap, tap, tap - here, drink yer beer and go sit by the fire, I'm not standin' here all day for your amusement, longhaired, half-eyed tramp, and the smell!

Ah, but if only she would say yes, say yes John, yes, the pleasures I could show her and the tales that I could tell, yes, whisper where these limbs have been, what these eyes have seen, the world was never so strange as when I was so strange to it, I was a stranger yes, in a day that went on forever, day and night in the same thought, yes, I could deliver it to her, the taste, the scent, the touch, with one kiss, one breath, we could eat that day together, devour it, live it all again, if she would only see me as a man and say yes, John, yes, I will, yes.