Pugs, Not DrugsI knew I should never have agreed to go to the old Hickory mansion. I mean, good grief, listen to how it sounds. Like something out of a children’s TV programme, or a bad horror flick. But at the time, it wasn’t about whether I was in some terrible cliché or even just trespassing. It was about finding the woman in the red dress.Pugs, Not Drugs1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
A little explanation. There were three of us sharing a roll-up round the back of Tesco the first time we saw her. Me, and Barry, and Lola. She was Barry’s girlfriend at the time, the source of the tobacco and the papers and the pixie-tampons – those little cotton filters you use when you roll your own. Barry was wearing a grey hoodie over his work clothes so that he didn’t get another write-up for smoking on company property. Even though his eyes darted around under his heavy lids, watching for the manager, it was Lola who spotted the woman in the red dress first.
“’ere,” she said, pointing. “What
When pugs turn badass0_0When pugs turn badass1 week ago in Personal