Swings and rocket ships @ Bare Fiction

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Issue 8 // 2016

They call me Grace from space. Mum says my head is somewhere between Neptune and Pluto, like the cartoon dog. My sister loved dogs. We used to sit on swings and jet off into space. We’d push out our legs and snap them back, launching into the sky. On the up, we’d see the moon. Next: Mars. Sometimes Silly Lily would sit backwards to catch the sun and Venus. But most times we’d try to go all the way round, seeing where it might take us. But we never got over the bar. Then one day, just after our eighth birthday, she did it. Lily went full circle. Alone.

To read the rest of the story…

Published by FJ Morris

Author & Director of Oxford Flash Fiction Prize. West Country bumpkin who can't kill anything but characters. Loves to grow big stories and big plants. Always looking for omens and four leaf clovers.

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