When she walked in Gav stopped drinking mid-swallow. ‘That,’ he said, ‘is the most beautiful woman I’ve seen since…since those country chicks crashed my eighteenth.’
Des told him he was crazy on both counts.
‘No way. I’m going to marry this one. Tonight’s the night.’
‘I thought yesterday was the night.’
‘That was til tonight.’ He slid off his chair towards her but she made a bee-line for a guy in pin-stripes, and slung a lazy arm around his neck. Gav kept walking right out the front door as the boys hooted their approval. So far, he thought, being eighteen and a day was turning out nearly as good as being eighteen.
A writer from Melbourne, Richard maintains a number of blogs exploring very short fiction and text-based art practices. His stories and poems have been published in both mainstream and alternative journals and collections. He is also a visual artist and was co-founder of both Platform Artists Group and zine store, Sticky. He continues to publish very short fiction and conduct microfiction workshops for practicing writers, students and others. He has created numerous text-based installations and artworks for public spaces, including at Federation Square, Melbourne and in conjunction with the 2017, Newcastle Writers Festival.
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small stories about love 