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This is the second of two submissions and takes place in a dining room.

One of my two rejected short stories from the Edinburgh Flash Fiction competition

So, I’m sure you’ve heard by now. I submitted two short stories to the Edinburgh Flash Fiction Awards competition and received an email this week notifying me that they were both unsuccessful.

I’m more interested in what it represents; that I can do bad singing on video and live to tell the tale.

Like everyone who has at least one brain cell I can only watch on, in disbelief at the state of western politics, which is usually dominated by the loudest single mouth on the planet: Donald Trump. His continuing determination to become the biggest laughing stock and least respected politician seeing him resort to childish, personal attacks against anyone that doesn’t kneel down behind him, shimmy his diaper to the side and pucker up. The dissociation we are all witnessing is

All in all it was a brilliant night.

It’s time, once again, for Rusty Quill's horror story competition 'Rusty fears'.