Prompt courtesy of Madison Woods and the Friday Fictioneers.   Fantastic photo by Piya Singh.  Read more great flash fiction here.

Apologies for the lateness, and the overrun – this story was snatched from minutes on an airoplane, and sent on the beach.  (I know! poor me…) and there was limited editing time.  Apologies also for the bad language – I tried to tone it down but the director was furious and wasn’t having any of it…

Your constructive comments are hugely welcome – I live for observations about my writing which will help me improve.


“What, the fuck, is that?”

The Art Director shuffled backwards. “Uh… ‘ancient woodman’s cottage’…” he stuttered, limp finger circling the brief.  Several members of the crew busied themselves nearby.

“There isn’t a woodman’s cottage between here and Io that looks like that.  The roof – it says dilapidated – is as pert as little Gene over there…”

Startled, Gene pressed her clipboard to her chest and scuttled away.

“… the ‘crumbling’ timbers look like they were put in yesterday, the ‘water wheel’ is actually a fucking cart wheel and its so damn tiny it looks like you stole it from the Gerry Gerbil set next door.  It’s not even facing the right way.”

When the AD turned back to the cottage, Construction had already started wrenching the poly slates off the roof.   An hour later, demolition complete, crew at lunch, he sat on the black floor in front of an empty set, waiting for the inspiration that would mean his studio pass was still valid when they wrapped for the day.


4 thoughts on “Wrapped

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