Tag Archives: child

January 21, 2016

Ex Nihilo

Ex Nihilo

I idly hit a key and light explodes in the void. With a chord, whole galaxies form, their spiral arms blazing. I sit and pound out a vast unfurling creation, major geography meeting minor civilizations as the strains of death and rebirth crescendo.

I falter and the worlds fade. People are standing around dumbstruck, and I wonder if they have seen, really seen, what I have.

My mother hurries up. “I’m sorry,” she says, to the onlookers. “He wandered away.”

I hold her hand and we leave the store, the worlds still lurking in that machine, waiting to be found.

25 Comments | tags: child, creation, ex nihilo, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Piano, prodigy | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Uncategorized

January 6, 2016

Fit for a King

By David Stewart

Fit for a King

The approaching rumble made the fine crystal tinkle. The party guests looked towards the window, wondering what new extravagance would appear.

“And finally, your Majesty, a gift from the sultan of Brunei,” the master of ceremonies said as a sleek white nose came into view, “a Bombardier Global 8000! He wishes you an excellent birthday, and many more to come.”

The guests all looked to see the king’s reaction. The small figure on the throne was not looking out the window. He was playing with a box that had recently held a $50,000 diamond-studded teddy bear. “Vroom! Vroom!” he said.

21 Comments | tags: birthday party, Bombardier Global 8000, child, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, irony, private jet | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Uncategorized

July 31, 2014

The Physics of Angels – Friday Fictioneer

By David Stewart

The Physics of Angels

“Mommy, how does the plane fly?”

“Sweetie, remember that word ‘migraine’ I taught you—”

“But how?”

“Angels. Angels keep it up.”

“But how does it go down?”

“Well, when they want to go down, the pilots start swearing a lot and it makes the angels drop us . . . slowly.”

“But you said a bad word before when you spilled your coffee and it didn’t go down then.”

“Oh that? That kind of word isn’t going to do anything. The pilots have to say really terrible, sinful words.”

“Like what?”

“Are you kidding? If I told you, you’d crash the plane.”

28 Comments | tags: airplane, angel, child, fiction, flash fiction, flying, Friday Fictioneers, funny, migraine | posted in Friday Fictioneers

February 22, 2013

Barnstormer – Friday Fictioneers

By David Stewart

Well, I’m back from my rather long wander around some Korean islands. It was a wonderful time of hiking, exploring and being alone. Thus, I’m a bit late doing the Fictioneers story this week, but better late than never. I haven’t read any of the other stories in the group yet, so I hope we didn’t have the same idea.

Barnstormer

“It flies,” Rose said, looking out her window at the barn next door.

“Does it indeed?” her mother asked. “It looks rather rundown to me.”

“Well, it used to fly. Dr. Corbeau attacked it with his horde of bamboozles and smashed in the side. I’m going to build a better one though, with rockets, and I’m going to fly it all over the world, even to Easter Island! Do you think I can? Huh?”

“I know you can, dear,” her mother said, moving the pint-sized wheelchair over next to the bed. “Now let’s go. It’s almost time for your chemo.”