Fiction

Some rather sinister fiction…

FICTION/FACTION

 

Crying Wolf

Hunched over, barely visible in the dark room, standard lamp flickering in the opposite corner. She was wearing that saggy old stained dress which she virtually lived in.

‘I’m dying, I’m dying’ she declared breathily, eyes theatrically wide in what I assumed to be feigned terror. It was comical.

’What’s wrong with you?’ I asked flatly. We’d been there so often.

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Restos. du Coeur

It seems ludicrous to penalise people who fish perfectly edible food out of the likes of Iceland’s bins.  Surely the main problem is that the supermarkets have so much waste in the first place.   Read More