This is for my friend mark who has introduced me to the beautiful idea of one hundred word fiction - I think that's what they're called. I love them - they're what would happen if short stories met haiku at a bar one Friday night!!!

anyway here's my first one.

Shona Withers lifted her right buttock and grunted silently as she farted. She  felt it move into  her knickers and billow slightly before meeting the resistance of the wooden bench. 

She sniffed with satisfaction recognising the familiar smell of her bowel; smiling as she considered a god for whom the finding of her watch was more important than starving infants in Africa and wondered  if the bacon she had thought to have for lunch was enough to consider inviting the vicar.