A sad end

Here lies Phillipé, trainee clown.
Not out with a smile, but a scream and a frown.

Drones

There’s a trendy cafe along a street where the alfresco seating is always well occupied. The muted hum of general conversation is broken only by short bursts of laughter.

One of the concrete slabs forming the pathway outside has lifted and created a lip. A businessman passes by, noting the specials on the blackboard menu. The toe of his right Florsheim catches the protruding edge and his briefcase is sent skittering up the street while he crashes to the pavement.

The hum quiets and the patrons all turn their heads to look at the fallen man. “Thirteen” they state in unison, as a matter of fact, before returning to their coffees…

The morning after

It was a cool morning, even for mid April.

He looked deep into her eyes and smiled softly.

‘I’ve never felt this way before’, he began, ‘like I’m so full of I-don’t-know-what, just bubbling inside of me and aching to come out… I love y-‘ *BLAAAARP* he belched loudly just as he had moved in for their first kiss. The odour of a mishmash of seafood, ginger beer and Nutella cronut enshrouded them.

‘Fucking paella’ she managed, before spinning around to face the kitchen sink, doubling over and swiftly bringing up her scrambled eggs and instant coffee.