Derec Jones – Writer and Artist

Category: Flash fiction

  • It’s a collage

    It’s a collage

    It’s a collage, that’s what it is, it’s a coll-fucking-age

  • A message from the twenty-fourth century

    A message from the twenty-fourth century

    doo yoo woo mooo? DoO AyE waan tooo? waa ee ooo poo fee floo gloo viaa grnaa gtyoe brooa grooa trooa too moo soo kooo jooo gooo claa mee kii nia plaa hoo xoiae boeuo vuo mua trui voo dooo yooo wooo moooo? by fuck!

  • No style, no substance

    No style, no substance

    What do I mean? I mean this is a short story with no style and no substance. Why? Why not? Style is taste, substance is an illusion. Fair enough, but I don’t understand. You don’t need to. I mean I don’t understand the point of it. Of what? Your short story. This. Nor me. In […]

  • Some Shadow

    Some Shadow

    The path to the cabin was choked with brambles; that was good. It meant that no one had been near the place for months at least. Jack laughed. ‘Ssh,’ Emma said. ‘No, it’s all right now,’ he said. ‘Look – there’s no sign of another human being – we’ll be safe here.’ ‘But it’s not […]

  • For the Time Being

    While working on my next novel ‘Bums’ which will be published in the Spring of 2015, I have been distracting myself by putting together a volume of other bits and pieces, called for the Time Being. It’s going to end up as a 200 page paperback book and will be published in late October or […]

  • The Time Machine – a short story

    “They say that goldfish only have something like a twelve second memory . . .” “Who says?” I asked. One of my last pleasures – challenging the assumptions of the young. “I don’t know – they. Anyway, goldfish have no sense of time, they can’t get bored. By the time they’ve swum around the bowl […]

  • The Black Sheep

    He wasn’t much of a ram, small and weak, with no possibility of siring any of the sumptuous ewes that shared the lush green hillsides. He didn’t mind, he had his darling girl. She was tall and thin on her two legs, her hair as black and as thick as his fleece. He knew he […]