Flash fiction by Abbie Clark

Ralf


Diving from left to right and zig zagging across the floor sparks shot from his heels, Ralf had never felt so alive, as he flicked the prosthetic limbs that had neatly been attached by feather boa technology towards the centre of the dance floor everyone spread out.  

Eager to witness his slick new moves and be a part of the new scene (that would no doubt be talked about in every post office and abandoned telephone box for decades to come) the two legged trend setters set about making a circular spherical shape of neon lights and flashing shoes.  Zip zap zoom ra, the lights spun and glistened like they were spinning just for him, the music rose like petrol prices and the chanting began.  Ralf was king tonight, as he double flipped, back kicked and somersaulted he felt the floor move beneath his plastic toes so fast that he knew evidence would later need to be provided by the insecurity guards. 

Then just as he was about to break into his signature move the collar was strapped around his neck and his eyes drifted to the stick being thrown at a great angle into a sky of street lamps.  They would have to wait until tomorrow for the next dance frenzy.



• Abbie Clark is a purveyor of the bizarre, a radio presenting activist and a consumer of chai latte

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