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Hilary Ayshford

@hilary55.bsky.social

Writer of fiction, teller of tales, collector of words, lover of nature, insatiably curious, possessor of miscellaneous knowledge, devotee of all things dark and deliciously wonderful.

46 Posts535 Follower814 Folgt
Ani King (they/them)@aniking.bsky.social · 7mo ago

Matt does a ton to support the flash community, he’s always out here sharing work, offering encouragement: www.mattkendrick.co.uk/resources

Resources | MattKendrick.co.uk

Free resources from Matt Kendrick.

mattkendrick.co.uk

Sumitra Singam@pleomorphic2.bsky.social · 7mo ago

Friends, if you have the means to, please do support @mattkendrick.bsky.social by using his (amazing) editing, mentoring or teaching skills or by tipping his kofi. He’s a gem, and he needs our support at the moment prattlefogandgravelrap.substack.com?utm_campaign...

Litsa Dremousis@litsadremousis.bsky.social · 8mo ago

Aw! Thanks again, Temple in a City @templeinacity.bsky.social! You're one of my very favorite lit mags and if we were in the same physical space we'd have to get blueberry pancakes and just hang😎 #BookSky #WriterSky #LitSky

Temple in a city@templeinacity.bsky.social · 8mo ago

We won’t quote from this @litsadremousis.bsky.social micro because it’s little and you should read her every word but admit we whispered ‘run, run, RUN’ with increasing velocity at every hair-raising line. templeinacity.com/micro-fictio...

L. Acadia@acadialogue.bsky.social · 8mo ago

pleased to have a dark little flash in the Imprint issue, alongside work from @iamchrisscott.bsky.social @hilary55.bsky.social @crankypacifist.bsky.social @joannatheiss.com @robm67.bsky.social @chriscottom.bsky.social @sagreene1.bsky.social & others

Temple in a city@templeinacity.bsky.social · 8mo ago

Ok FINE! The wait is over. Please welcome our not quite bouncing new issue into this squalling world. Filled with sharp corners, deep sighs and things that linger long after you’ve read them. Bonkers and beautiful. We named it Imprint. We hope you like it. templeinacity.com/explore-the-...

National Flash Fiction Day@natflashfictionday.bsky.social · last yr.

FlashFlood: 'Home is the Sailor' by Hilary Ayshford #nffd2025

'Home is the Sailor' by Hilary Ayshford

Each day at slack water she scours the tideline. Some days the sea gifts her glass – blue, green, brown or white – milky and opaque like the eyes of the sailors claimed by the ocean. Sometimes she finds bleached, knobbly finger bones of coral, and shells as small and pink as babies' thumbnails or convoluted like a man's ear. Each day she examines her treasures for signs of her lover, breathes a sigh of relief, and takes the pieces back to her shack among the dunes where she caches them carefully in an ebony chest. Today the sea honours her with a piece of driftwood, knotted and gnarled like the skeleton of some ancient sea creature, burred and burnished by salt and sand. On the horizon beneath scudding clouds, ships' sails billow, waiting for the high tide to carry her lover back to her. At the shack she takes out her treasures, washes each one with her tears for the sweethearts whose men inhabit the kelp forests beneath the waves, then suspends each frosted stone, polished pebble and pearly shell by a silver thread from the sea-sculpted branch. She hangs the makeshift chandelier on the veranda, where it twists in the wind, casting shards of refracted moonlight across the dunes, a beacon to guide her lover home. She takes him to her bed, and after, when he is sleeping like the dead, she removes the heart from his chest and hangs it from the driftwood, ruby droplets phosphorescent in the night. Surf thunders onto the beach, pounds the sand in frustration, but he is hers for eternity; the sea can never claim him now.   --- Hilary Ayshford is based in rural Kent in the UK. She writes flash fiction and short stories and is currently working on her first novel. She prefers music in a minor key and has a penchant for the darker side of human nature.

dlvr.it

The Pride Roars@theprideroars.bsky.social · last yr.

"She would never get frightened by the storm, an earthquake, or the dog’s bark, would never enjoy the birds’ song as they welcomed dawn, or fall asleep to a lullaby" Read "Still Life Pain-ting by @delgeo14.bsky.social in Ghost Parachute ghostparachute.com/issue/june-2...

Still Life Pain-ting — Ghost Parachute

It swallowed her. The pain engulfed Marie whole, like a triskelion of emotional, physical, spiritual agony. She had stopped asking questions. There were no answers to be had. There was no why, and no ...

ghostparachute.com