—trying not to be one of those people constantly on their phone so I search things to do other than be on your phone and that’s how I end up on my phone. Do a puzzle, it suggests. Walk barefoot on wet grass. Start randomly screaming in public. Then I get a notification about a storm that is apparently on the way; people are saying the vibes are not good and it has big we’re going to die energy. Then I see a spoiler for a film that came out three hours ago, a sponsored ad for something that improves your memory, and a video of a dog with a crooked smile. When I look up, I notice I am in the queue for something. Then I’m sent a video about dissociating that will supposedly change my life and I reply sounds amazing!!! I’ll watch it later x already forgetting what I’m talking about before I’ve hit send. Then there’s someone saying another storm is approaching and someone else replying that’s the same storm you fucking idiot. Then the queue shuffles forward. Outside, the weather looks normal: a slow-motion montage of the two remaining seasons. Now there’s an account posting from the perspective of the storm and someone’s put I can’t believe how disrespectful this is like people could die and the account has replied glup glup glup. A live stream of the wreckage pops up and even though I’m watching it on mute, I can hear rainfall, sheets of consciousness melting away; like the time I used the torch on my phone to search my flat for the phone I was using; when I accidentally deleted a photo of my passport and panicked because I thought I had literally deleted the physical object; when I looked through old pictures and couldn’t remember any of them, so I held the screen closer to my eyes as if I could sear the images into my brain and retroactively create the memories I clearly didn’t form at the time. Then I realise the live stream I’m watching is actually the same five-second clip looping over and over so I close it and then I read a post from someone saying it’s their birthday but they haven’t spoken to anyone all day with thousands of comments underneath all wishing them happy birthday and then I read the storm account has been suspended for saying something racist so I quickly go back and unlike all of their posts and then I read that the storm is already here and when I get to the front of the queue and they ask for my name it takes me a minute.
This is a propulsively-written, yet expertly-controlled story, which I admired first of all for the clarity of its voice, despite the general messiness and interference of the consciousness it was caught up in, and for the way it was – in its brief span – full of acute social observation. It shows a really fine sense of how to convey the complex movements of a mind in mid-flow in language that doesn’t reduce that messiness but lets the reader ride it and – above all – recognise it in themselves. It’s psychologically very acute, too.
Patrick McGuinness
This story blew me away when I first read it, and it’s just as rewarding upon rereading. Using a breathless, stream-of-consciousness-like form, and dynamic and layered imagery, it says so much with so few words about the cacophony and anxiety that can exist in our everyday modern lives. It’s also hilarious.
Farhana Khalique
Sam studied novel-writing at Bath Spa University and is from a small town in Essex where the roads are named after The Lord of the Rings — he grew up on Gandalf’s Ride, a stone’s throw from Hobbiton Hill and Rivendale Vale. In 2023 he was longlisted for the WestWord Prize.
He is currently working on his debut novel and can be found on:
Twitter: samcsrennie
Instagram: samcsrennie
Oxford Flash Fiction Prize 