This is our town – 3 min short story/ poem

Hiss of samosas hitting the frying pan.

Crackle from chips being wrapped.

Vibrating boom from the record stall.

This is our ends.

The air alive with spices and smoke and handshakes and happy how’s-your-mothers.

Chuckles and street cackles bounce around the market. The paved streets lined with locals with rich stories. Faces familiar and friendly. Undeterred.

Crowds gather around Jackie fruit and veg as she retells that story we love to hear,  just one more time Jackie.

This is our town. Radio John snoozing on his stall, Viv’s leopard’s prints and Ahmed’s fish. They’ll be around forever.

No matter how many tall gawky coffee shops with spindly metal chairs sitting outside and fingers clattering on silver white laptops.

This will always be our town.

 

 


Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed my short story/ poem (I’m definitely not a poet!). This  piece came about when I went on a writing trip with The Writing Squad where we explored gentrification on London through photography and writing.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments below! Thank you all so much for staying with me and reading my stories!

D x

Read more of my short stories here

I am also starting book reviews! Let me know your recommendations in the comments below!

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Endless Numbered Days review by Claire Fuller | book review blog

Our Endless Numbered Days – Book Review

This is one of those books that you can’t stop thinking about days after reading it.

Beautifully written and utterly haunting, Our Endless Numbered Days by Claire Fuller is about a father who lies to his little girl about the world ending and then runs away into the depths of a forest in Germany.

The most delicious aspect of the story for me was how the effect of this life of isolation and living off the land had an effect on Peggy (the daughter) and her father.

My favourite characters were Peggy, I thought she was brilliantly written and I especially loved the way teenage Peggy was portrayed.

I also loved Peggy’s mother, I’ve never encountered the mother figure described the way Ute was – she wasn’t a typical molly coddling motherly stereotype, she’s a strong person in her own right and her melodrama added some humour to the dark story.

I highly recommend this book. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. The story and the events that unfold are unsettling and there was such depth to the characters that I was completely sucked into the story and it took me a long time to get out again. I love it when books have that kind of effect! Well done Claire Fuller!

I give this book an 8/10

What did you think? Have you read it? Let me know in the comments below.

Thanks for reading

D x

Still need a fiction fix? Read my short stories here

diamond thief short story

Diamond Thief – 30 second short story

 

I’m the diamond thief. Rocking and rolling from one easy store to the next. One smile and the keys are mine. One joke and the tills are empty. One quick story and the diamonds are gone. They frown. I smirk. They reach for the phone. I’m already gone.


Thanks for reading and if this is your first time, please check out my other short stories. And if you liked the style of this one, then read my other short story based on an outfit here.

Lots of love -D

@dijamulla (Twitter)

@proseandpose (Instagram)

short story breathless flash fiction blog prose and pose

Breathless on the roof – quick short story

We ran breathless to the roof. The wind whooshing around us.

The floor throbbed with dance music. It was night. We lent over the edge and laughed at the darkness. Gripping hands and giggling proud of the new place we’d found. Our little adventure. Bathroom mirror buddies.

I still have your lipstick.

Thanks for reading!

Anyway let me know what you think in the comments below. If you’re too shy, just give my post a like, and most importantly share it.

-D

Read another short story

your bill sir prose and pose short story flash fiction story blog

Your Bill Sir – 3 minute short story

 

Flitting between tube stops and taxis. I’m a girl you’ll only see once. You look up from your coffee. Flash of red shoes, a black spotty skirt, ‘Your bill sir’ you turn your head, I’m gone already.

I’m in disguise. On the run if you will. Pistol in my handbag.  Blare of sirens behind me. Click. I open my bag. Slip on my glasses. Good job it’s sunny. They’re coming towards me. I stop, heart beating. Voices on their radio. ‘Excuse me miss.’ They walk past.

I breath out. Smile smug. Buy a paper. Hide behind it. I’ll never get caught.

Thanks for reading.

Please let me know what you think in the comments below.

-D

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My Coat – quick short story

I have this coat I wear. It’s heavy. Pulling me down.

Holding it close I wander. Past the towns I once knew. Size fives grow to tens.

The walls that heard everything.

And the people that reflected my whole soul.

The silly games we shared. The pockets we filled. The meals, the shoulders, the hands held tight.

The air after I left tasted sweeter. Full of opportunity that I lapped up.

My coat grew lighter and I held my arms out as I flew. Pulling and grabbing everything.

Head spinning with the new world I spun.

Returning hurts.  The air still. Bitter. Tasting of sour pillowcases and snapping sweets in half.

I feel dense. Pockets too heavy for this old life.

Where all time stands still except mine.

 

My Coat - quick short story by Dija Mulla


Thanks for reading! This piece was inspired by a writing trip I went on with The Writing Squad. We explored the idea of gentrification in London. I wrote this piece back in November last year but so much has happened since then – I got a new job in a new industry and so I just haven’t had time to come back to this blog.

If you liked this piece, please let me know by liking it. If you have anything to say about it, just leave a comment below.

And follow me on Twitter  and Instagram if you’re into all that.

Cheers!

D