Sunday short short story: Not The Wisest Of Actions by Morgen Bailey

Posted every Sunday up to today (this will be the last one for a while), the following piece of flash fiction is from Morgen’s shorter short story collection, FLASHES. We hope you enjoy this final story…

Not The Wisest Of Actions

You had no way of knowing that the toothbrush was going to find you a husband. You used it to clean your dog’s teeth but when the doctor asked how it got stuck in your ear, you had no real explanation. You’d had an itch.

It was Doug’s eyes that you noticed first; deep brown, almost black, with long, dark eyelashes and a smile… such a contrast, teeth like a photograph model’s. You would have liked him to be taller but an inch was better than same height. Your high heels could languish at the back of the wardrobe in favour of kitten, they were back in fashion anyway.

By the end of the appointment you’d arranged a date – him too shy to ask, so you had… after checking his office for family photos and his hand for a wedding ring.

A year after you were married, you’d started feeling sick, put it down to a summer cold but he recognised the symptoms and brought home a test kit. You swelled like a balloon and missed your horse, but Doug had been cautious, insisted that you take a break, so you’d agreed, on the condition that he took lessons.

And as you watched him trot round the field on Bracken, you’d fallen in love with him all over again, seen the look he’d given you that first meeting, and knew that whilst sticking a toothbrush in your ear may not have been the wisest of actions, you’d do it all over again.


Sunday short short story: Rumbled by Morgen Bailey

Posted every Sunday, the following piece of flash fiction is from Morgen’s shorter short story collection, FLASHES,  available in e-book from Morgen’s online store where you not only get the best price but can either instantly download the collection or purchase the paperback dedicated to you or as a present! We hope you enjoy this story…




“There’s someone downstairs.”


“Frankie, downstairs! I heard something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I heard a loud noise, like a window breaking.”

“OK, stay there. I’ll go and have a look.”

“Shall I call the police?”

“Wait until we know for sure.”

“But what if…”

“It’s probably nothing.”


“Anyone…? Hello? Who’s there?”

“Hello Frankie. Sorry, did I startle you.”

“Gran? What you are doing down here?”

“I was thirsty.”

“Then why are you…? What’s that noise? Is there someone else here?”

“Er, it’s…”

“Gran, spill.”

“OK. Ernest. You can come out now. We’ve been rumbled.”