Update... So, it would seem that my Flash Fiction 360 Project got as far a 002! Ooops...

Memory They say that every story tells a picture, or is it the other way round? In my head, it looks different. Remember the rain and the puddles and the silver car that didn't stop? We’d been counting cars to pass the time. She was red and he was blue. I was winning. That's how I know. But she says that was a different day. A different game. The sun was shining. The man in the silver car agreed. It wasn't him. It couldn't be. He'd been in court all day. I’m sure I know, but I just can't tell.

Flash Fiction 365 #002 I'm a hunter. My ancestors were hunters. Your ancestors were hunters. It's in our nature to kill. But you say it's wrong. I'm wrong. So you lock me up in this prison with nothing but dried food and water and laugh at my frustration. You wonder why I sulk when you visit once a day. Why I bite and scratch when you offer me affection. I try to tell you but you just don't understand that your gifts are not enough - cat nip toys just don't bleed like you do.

Flash Fiction 365: 001 Dear Washing Machine, I know that I sometimes overload you with work; that you carry two huge concrete weights on your shoulders; and that your #life is mostly empty. But you don't have to air my dirty laundry in public. Just try to loosen up a bit. Open up to me just this once and let me lighten your load. It might just help. And besides, it's Monday tomorrow and I need my clothes back! With love, Me xx