100-Word Fiction: ‘This is My Job’

Downstairs in the shop it is sweltering. I am at a designer furniture launch. This is my job. Bring on the canapés, I should be eating dinner. Sean works for a competitor. He tells me about when his wallet was fat, when he was drunk every evening. Across the room Seb shakes hands. Everyone wants to meet Seb. But I can tell by the way he pulls at his ear that he wants out. Away from sales, marketing and clueless creatives. My forehead runs with sweat. The kids won’t want to go to bed tonight. I wish I was home.

100-Word Fiction: ‘The Whistleblower’

It had rained all morning and the rain had turned to sleet and then snow. There was a bitter wind too and, earlier than they should, Anne’s colleagues left work and headed to the pub.

Anne had decided to go on record and reveal the big secret. She knew precisely what the fallout would be. Or she thought she did. Then, in the afternoon, her boss resigned. He said he had a moral duty to do so. The implication was that so did she. But she did not see that.

Anne’s colleagues bought drinks and began to plot her downfall.