Jokes and Lies by Anne Summerfield

Jokes and Lies

He said he was a uranium trader but that must have been a lie. Well-dressed though, expensively perfumed. They sat on the dusty grass near the London Eye. He took off his jacket, then his tie and shirt. His undershirt looked like a temple garment. When he removed his shoes, his socks had gold toes and she thought how beautiful they were.

After a while the sun grew too hot. He wanted her to come back to his hotel. When she said no he gave her his phone number, then pushed those golden toes back into shiny black shoes and walked away. His perfume stayed with her until the doors of the tube train closed.

At the Freud Museum she learned that Freud used to greet visitors with a joke. She saw the couch which looked like a rug flung over something ugly. She would never need uranium so she erased the number from her phone.

The first thing he’d said to her was ‘are you looking for someone?’ That was when she should have said no.


jokes and lies


Anne Summerfield’s recent publications include stories in Sleep is a Beautiful Colour (NFFD Anthology 2017), and in the 2017 Flash Fiction Festival anthology. Her story ‘Lamb’ was nominated by Ad Hoc Fiction for Best Small Fictions 2018. She is based in Hampshire, England and tweets infrequently as @summerwriter


(Next: Upon Discovering that Cows Can Swim by Santino Prinzi)

(Previous: Pendulum Pastry by Jane-Rebecca Cannarella)

Feel like submitting? Check out our submission guidelines

Special Issue Call for Submissions: Stories for Dead People


Image (modified): Robert Huffstutter CC2.0