Da Always Said He Would Take me Shrimping

Katie Holloway

Uncle Jim brought me once; he had this salt-stiff net, repaired with stitches like Mam’s arm that
time. When I slipped he didn’t let me fall. I hauled my catch, feeling powerful as that sea-tasting
wind. Those shrimps flipping about had so much life; Uncle Jim showed me how to grab the
sopping mesh so they couldn’t escape. That made me queasy. They had spiteful jabby bits; could stick up for themselves. But they stopped writhing soon enough. I didn’t expect them to be grey as Da’s face on Sunday mornings. He’ll never get the chance to take me now.


Katie Holloway writes tiny stories in the south of England. She is often tempted to uproot her family to go and live in a tree. Katie has received a DYCP grant from the Arts Council England, a nomination for the Pushcart prize, and the first prize in the 2023 Retreat West prize (flash fiction category). Katie tweets @KatieLHWrites