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About Russell Cavanagh and his flash fiction story website.

About MANMADEFLASH blog and flash-fiction story writer Russell Cavanagh 

MANMADEFLASH is a flash fiction and short story blog by Scottish writer Russell Cavanagh, publishing multiple times a week with dystopian flash fiction, micro fiction, vignettes, and slice-of-life stories drawn from real observation.

Russell was a features journalist on national print titles during the 90s - back when ethical journalists could sometimes be found. He is a fundamental Christian "man of the Book" (i.e., non-Z) and lives in his native Scotland, having lived 25-year in major English cities and in the Czech Republic.

Popular posts from this blog

Please can you tell your father

  Before a spell as a marine commando in his younger days the old man was an apprentice boat builder. But now the hospital was refusing his requests for a tot of rum.         "Mr Cameron, please will you tell your father he can't have alcohol in here?" the doctor implored. The old boy must have thought he'd ended up in a hospice or some sort of palliative care. Ross had a word with him. A crestfallen silence followed.         Visiting time now over, Ross promised to come again tomorrow. The old man gave a knowing stare at his only remaining son.         "Take care of yourself," he said. These were the final words Ross heard from him.         By the following day his dad had slipped from consciousness. A nurse suggested Ross just sit with him. Listening to the death rattle, he was reminded of the previous year with his older brother.    ...
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Back from the old road

My stomach had rumbled steadily over the past hundred or so miles. There was nothing for it, I'd have to find somewhere to pull in and eat. As luck would have it I saw just the place - a little truckers restaurant sat back from the old road.         Inside and out cane seats sat under clean formica tabletops. There were no other customers around, maybe because it was by now way past lunchtime. A coffee machine hissed from the kitchen and a radio played hits from yesteryear. Soon a man wearing an apron appeared and took my order.         As I tucked in to the generous portion of ham and eggs, followed by pancakes drowning in maple syrup and ice cream, the man told me how his family had opened the place the previous century. He said business became tight a few years ago when the local plant, a big employer, relocated south.         "My name's John, by the way," he said, "I hate that it's m...
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Glasgow Pride 2069 | Dystopian flash fiction

Firm friends Big Rod and Roger the Pole met up at the 2069 Pride event in Glasgow. It was a sparse affair, turnout being lower than at any time in living memory.      'Ooh, Big Rod ... Lovely to see you again darling ... Mwah!' said Roger, kissing Rod's wrinkled face.      'Hello Roger, darling. You're looking handsome as ever,' Rod lied, noting the other now used an albeit stylish walking stick.      'How long is it now, Rod?'      'I beg your pardon?'      'How long have we been coming here to Glasgow Pride?' replied Roger, adding, 'Silly boy!'      'This will be my fortieth year at the parade. You?'      'Yes, about the same for me, dear.'      'I see the Church of Scotland float is leading this year,' said Rod, proudly showing Roger he still had his beloved 2029 Pride scarf.      'Yes, they've always been right behind us...
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