I remember watching him at last year’s Christmas party when the Fortune-Telling Fish from someone’s cracker was doing the rounds. It got to Geoff, and accompanied by shrieks of laughter from most of the female library staff it quickly shrivelled up and decided he was passionate. Geoff, in his lopsided paper hat, went red and self-consciously pushed his glasses further on until they must’ve been digging into his forehead.

It sounds daft, but it intrigued me; I had to know if it was true. Too much sherry perhaps.

He may not look much in his grey slacks and cardie, but without them, in silence in the darkness we smoulder. Come the morning, when the early light seeps through the bedroom curtains, he’s Clark Kent again, polishing his specs and making observations on the weather. Hard to believe it’s the same person, but me and that red plastic fish know better.

JY Saville spent nine years studying and researching at three universities, then left it all behind for a job which allows her the time to get the never-ending stream of words out of her head and onto a computer. Some of those words have been published in 365 Tomorrows, and some on the BBC7 website. She sometimes reviews books for

Rate this story:
 average 0 stars • 0 reader(s) rated this

Every Day Fiction