Short prose

I stay where I am when I see Tony come into the bar, standing by the optics with a tea towel in my hand. Tom turns his back and starts polishing cutlery. He's worked here for longer than I have.

I once knew a girl who ate cereal with a fork. She said it was to control the Milk Element and I didn’t question her because I’d seen the way she skewered her raisins.

The baby seagull's back in the doorway of Burger King, pacing up and down, twitchy like an addict.