Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers

July 30, 2015

Eau de Newfoundland

Eau de Newfoundland

Stanley keeps tiny bottles of water from everywhere he’s visited, but he only ever opens one. He collected it on the beach in Griquet, Newfoundland. Smelling the salt water brings him back to that wild land of rock and trees, where moose roam and majestic icebergs float silently by the shore.

It’s not the nature he misses though. He left her there somewhere, that sandy-haired Newfie beauty he met by chance inside a Viking hut.

He keeps opening the bottle because if he listens closely, he can almost hear her, like the voice of an outport angel.

“Whaddya at, b’y?”

I feel this story needs some explanation for those who have never been to Newfoundland. I grew up there and although I have not been back in many years, it will always be home to me in many ways. So, for the curious, bored, or otherwise inclined, here are some links to peruse.

The inspiration for the title

29 Comments | tags: bottle, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, Griquet, L'Anse aux Meadows, Newfoundland, nostalgia, Ode to Newfoundland, outport, Vikings | posted in Friday Fictioneers

July 22, 2015

Arctic Abaddon

By David Stewart

Arctic Abaddon

The moment I was created in that frozen cloud crucible, I knew I was a killer. I spun my six blades and my war cry joined that of my tens of millions of brethren. I fell like an arctic Abaddon, ready to destroy everything in my path. A fleshy digit was thrust out below me and I prepared to slice it to pieces.

“Look, a snowflake!”

A killing warmth surrounded me. My six daggers melted away as I puddled.

* * *

The moment I was created as a tiny water droplet on a little girl’s finger, I knew I was a life-giver . . .

29 Comments | tags: Abaddon, arctic, death, fantasy, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, snow, transformation, winter | posted in Friday Fictioneers

July 15, 2015

Pattern Recognition

By David Stewart

Pattern Recognition

I turn the corner and let out a primal scream. Then I take off my shoe and hurl it in rage. People look at me but then realize I’m a tourist and ignore me.

My girlfriend walks up. “What the— oh, it’s that pattern again.”

“It’s stalking me!” I wail. “It’s not argyle, it’s not plaid but I keep seeing it. The socks, the wallpaper, the hipster’s vest, that one Pinterest page, and now . . . this!”

“Just go ask,” she says.

I finally find an English speaker. “I don’t know its name,” the woman says. “We just found it on Pinterest.”

34 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, mystery, pattern, Pinterest, quirky, tourist | posted in Friday Fictioneers

July 8, 2015

Reality Bestiarius

By David Stewart

Reality Bestiarius

I crouch, trembling, in the storm drain. I can hear the hunter slavering outside—almost feel his hot, stinking breath. He’s been pursuing me for days. I am terrified and bone-tired.

I sniff weakly around the storm drain entrance, my desperation for food bordering on panic. I have not eaten meat in days. I wonder if my little ones have already died of starvation.

“Welcome back to Day 6 of the Predator/Prey Showdown! We’ve seen some surprises but it’s all going to end soon for one contestant. Remember to text 684833 to place your bets on the winner. Call now!

Note: the title is actually a misnomer, since a bestiarius refers to a person who is forced into a combat with an animal. I could not find the Roman term for two animals who are forced to fight each other, as this story intends.

39 Comments | tags: animal fighting, bestiarius, combat, death, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, gambling, reality show | posted in Friday Fictioneers

July 1, 2015

Sacrifices to the Monster

By David Stewart

Happy Canada Day everyone! I’m sorry I’ve been away so much in the last few weeks and this week isn’t any better. I’ll be gone for most of the remainder of the week, totally beyond the range of Internet access. However, I’ll try to read as many as I can when I get back.

Sacrifices to the Monster

A few feeble cries still came from the sweltering trunks of the half-buried wrecks. As the sun set, the cars descended on a platform into the earth, moving silently on well-oiled gears.

When it stopped, an old man approached and unlocked the trunks. He pulled out the sacrifice victims, all young men and women as he had demanded.

He gave them food and water.

“They said you were a monster,” one croaked. “That you would eat us.”

“They are barbarians,” the man said. “Live down here with me until we have enough. Then we will ascend and retake our land.”

41 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, post apocalyptic, revenge, sacrifice | posted in Friday Fictioneers

June 28, 2015

Misnomer

By David Stewart

To say this installment of Friday Fictioneers is late is somewhat of an understatement. It’s so late, it’s almost early for next week. I will apologize for being busy, but next week is not much better, since I leave for a 4-day trip on Wednesday afternoon. Thanks to those who continue to read my work when I post it. I appreciate you all.

Misnomer

Kent sat silently, surrounded by racks of string bikinis, more air than there. Outside, the snow lay slathered over the landscape like sunscreen applied liberally by an inexpert hand. It even mockingly covered the TRAK Beachware: Yellowknife Branch sign. The red “A” still glowed optimistically pink through the snow.

He was going to be a pioneer, but it was June 15 and he had taken a snowmobile to work. He morosely picked up the reply to his angry letter to Environment Canada.

“Actually, Mr. Bonham, we prefer the term climate change these days. Global warming is somewhat of a misnomer.”

25 Comments | tags: bikini, Canada, climate change, Environment Canada, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, global warming, Yellowknife | posted in Friday Fictioneers

June 18, 2015

Piety by Proximity – Friday Fictioneers

By David Stewart

Piety by Proximity

My dad believed in piety by proximity. His nightstand was a stack of Bibles. My desk lamp was holy, he told me.

“It’ll keep you safe from demons,” he said.

“What’s a demon?”

“It’s like a cross between a deer and a lemon, I think.”

One day, I went on a field trip to the cathedral and saw a row of lamps like mine, one missing.

“Did you steal my lamp?” I asked him later.

“They have five more,” he protested.

“What about the eighth commandment?”

“I didn’t covet it; I just took it.”

I suggested he read his nightstand.

37 Comments | tags: Bible, father, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, piety, quirky, stealing | posted in Friday Fictioneers

June 13, 2015

Looking for a Deal-Breaker

By David Stewart

Looking for a Deal-Breaker

“Here’s the kitchen, where Mrs. Hernandez hacked up her husband,” I said.

The oohs and ahhs sounded disturbingly enthusiastic. The family crowded around the spot. I needed to change tactics.

“The toaster is possessed. If it catches you—”

“You’re toast?” the mother said. They all laughed. The father snapped a picture.

I started to panic. If they passed on this house, the boss said I could buy it.

“It’s part of a homeowner association!” I blurted out.

I expected horror but they just smiled creepily. “It’s okay, we like HOAs,” the father said.

I let them have the house.

My apologies to anyone who likes their homeowners association. Here are some reasons why I’ll never be part of one though.

36 Comments | tags: creepy, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, homeowners association, horror, kitchen, possessed | posted in Friday Fictioneers

June 3, 2015

The Family Chain – Friday Fictioneers

By David Stewart

The Family Chain

The gaping hole in our backyard was my father’s retirement fund. There was gold down there somewhere; his father and grandfather had sworn on it.

It started with ten grand pirated from my college savings for digging equipment and from then on yielded a steady -20% return on investment until his bankrupt deathbed.

“I failed,” he told me. “Finish the work. Find my gold.” And I felt the heavy chain being passed to me.

I waited until after his final breath to put down that chain forever. I couldn’t let him see me do it. It would have killed him.

43 Comments | tags: chain, death, Family, father, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, futile search, legacy, treasure hunt | posted in Friday Fictioneers

May 27, 2015

Net Sacrifice – Friday Fictioneers

By David Stewart

I am crazy busy these days. I apologize for not being around more and not posting as much as usual. Someday, perhaps, things will get back to normal. Thanks again to all those who shared my post about my t-shirt line, Fiction T’s. I’ll be drawing for the free t-shirts tomorrow.

Net Sacrifice

They dragged the screaming goat into the sweltering, LED-lit cave where hulking monsters hurled beams of light across the world, billions a second.

“We have the offering,” Mark said.

The Switch sat enthroned among the machines, a wizened creature with the light of a trillion bits gleaming in empty sockets.

“Goat,” it sneered. “I need more power! More speed! Bring me human.”

“Of course.” They escaped, the goat’s dying shriek echoing as the door slammed.

“We can’t do this,” Larry said. “People won’t stand for it.”

“No, people won’t stand for Google or Facebook slowing down.”

A pause.

“So . . . who?”

To me this story seems clear, but since it is sufficiently bizarre, for those who aren’t clear on the meaning, let me just say, it is as if the book Tubes, by Andrew Blum was instead written by H.P. Lovecraft. That’s all I’ve got: follow the links. Bonus points if you get the significance of the people’s names.