Mia Lamont


Published Work

Genre Bender

What my grandfather knows

"They said they knew it was coming," 
My grandfather smiled weakly at me, the monitor next to his head beeping quietly. 
"Oh, we knew." He managed, not taking his eyes off the ceiling. I frowned, looking over at the Tv. The headline read 'last turtle died this morning, experts reckon dolphins are next'. 
"So why'd no one do anything?' I asked. I look down at a plush turtle given to my grandfather my my sister. I tried to imagine it was alive, swimming through the air around me, it's shell shimmering in the evening sun. I'd remembered seeing the warning alerts 2 years ago, stating there was only a couple hundred turtles left. None in the wild, only at theme parks and hotel attractions. There hadn't been any exciting life in the oceans for years. At least not according to my mum. My grandfather shook his head.
"No one did anything because honestly...nobody cared. We told them to swap to...

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

The things they say

They tell us our eyes are windows. That when we wake up in the morning and are greeted with the light shining through our curtains, we are safe. They tell us that when we laugh, the whole world laughs with us. That if we think too hard, our minds could crack the universe and seep out into the eternal abyss. They forgot to tell us about the software. The computers, the wires. They don't tell us that when we wake from our dreams, we're still trapped. That behind this wall of pixels, a reality exists outside our own.