As a child I would pick at scabs, pulling back dry skin, revealing the raw redness beneath.
That for me is the kind of writing I adore.
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Image Ronin (on Twitter here) is part of the Flash Dogs and currently lives in Australia, dodging large spiders, even larger cockatoos and the odd tropical storm. In past existences he has found himself being serenaded by Robbie Williams in a Premier Inn outside of Stoke; refusing a bacon sandwich made by The Prodigy; taking a car ride with Michael Jackson, Darth Vader and David Blaine; and has been chased by strangers each time he has visited a capital city, nine and counting thus far.
Oh and sometimes he writes amazing flash fiction.
One of those statements is delusional.
Only one.
Flash! Friday 