Tag Archives: flash fiction
copyright Dawn Q. Landau
Lust by Number
One lonely shack by the shore of an unremembering sea.
Two lovers locked in the frantic embrace of the desperate.
Three days immersed in the depths of sin and escape.
Four men in a skiff, gold band gleaming on the leader.
Five minutes of pain, screams and shots.
Four men recede back over the horizon.
Three days of silence before a fisherman comes to spend a hard-earned weekend, soon spoiled.
Two desperate lovers carried away under sheets, leaving behind the life they pledged each other.
One shack, festooned with yellow tape, sitting lonely by the shore of an unremembering sea.
52 Comments | tags: adultery, crime, dark, death, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, lust, murder, revenge, sex, sin | posted in Friday Fictioneers
I admit it, I’ve been in a weird mood. Maybe not more than usual, but more consistently. For those of you who like my saner stories, they’ll be coming, but this isn’t one of them.
The police asked me about the smoking gun in my hand.
I said it had been smoking since before I met it, but it was trying to quit.
They asked about my red hands.
I said I’d been doing a craft project with disadvantaged youth.
They asked about the head in my freezer.
I said I was running a highly specific cryogenics experiment.
They wished me luck with my experiment and left.
Just as well. If they’d left the freezer door open any longer, it would have ruined everything. Now, I have to go wash the paint off my hands and go pick up some nicotine patches for my gun.
10 Comments | tags: cryogenics, fiction, flash fiction, funny, gun, police, quirky, smoking gun | posted in Light
Happy New Year everyone! A Friday Fictioneers story is a good way to start the new year. I don’t like to put much significance on the first story of the year, especially since this one is rather dark. Hopefully it won’t be a portent of the upcoming year. Also, there is a bit of swearing in it, just so you’re warned. I don’t usually put swearing in my stories, but it seemed this one needed some. You can judge for yourself after you read it.
copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Bruno Knew
“Grant! The dog’s gone crazy! Stupid dog, too lazy even to get up to eat, today he’s barking his head off. Shut up, Bruno! Shut up! You wanna go out? Fine. Look at him go. Ho— Ho . . . ly . . . shit! Grant! Gra-ant! Come see this. Bruno just climbed the tree! Oh shit, Grant, the floor’s moving! There’s earthworms coming through the linoleum. Ahh! They’re in my feet, in my feet! I can’t move. Dear God, help! Grant, where are you? Where are you? These ain’t earthworms!”
Outside, Bruno’s frenzied barking failed to keep the probing tendrils at bay. He climbed higher.
35 Comments | tags: creepy, dog, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, monster, New Year, worms | posted in Friday Fictioneers
The Importance of Legends
It was a badly-kept secret among intellectuals that the vaults under the British Museum held a portal to another world. It was a jade gate that had been stolen from China in 1840. When its secret was discovered in 1848, a stream of explorers and archaeologists had entered it, never to reappear. Eventually, the gate was locked up.
Until 2012 . . .
Cameras clicked and flashed as Dr. Forbes stood in front of the jade gate.
“I discovered the map in our archives,” he said. “The corner was torn off, but I managed to decipher the ancient Chinese to see that it is a map of the land beyond. It shows where the dangers are, as well as a magnificent treasure, across this plain and beyond these mountains.” He pointed to a reproduction of the three-foot square map. “I will now enter the gate with my team. We plan to be gone a week.”
The next day, a janitor was cleaning up the archive room and found a scrap of paper under a desk. It said 一寸是一万里*, not even English. He threw it away.
*(1 inch = 3600 miles)
18 Comments | tags: adventure, Alastair's Photo Fiction, British Museum, China, Chinese, exploration, fiction, flash fiction, legend, map, misunderstanding, other worlds | posted in Light
Merry Christmas from the Green-Walled Tower! I hope you all had a great day yesterday. By the way, if you’re interested, go read my post about the time I was a real-life ghost. It just got Freshly Pressed, which was a great Christmas present for me.
Enlightening the Son
Searchlights combed the sky like Zen rakes, cutting graceful swaths across the obsidian dome of night.
“Get my son back this instant!” the president said, emotions colliding in his trembling voice.
“We can find him, sir,” the chief of staff said, “but while he has the artifact, we’re helpless. He flies faster than our jets and is virtually invincible.”
* * *
“What’s the spin?” the PR director asked later. “Is this good or bad?”
“We’ll find out soon,” the chief of staff said. “If we can make him a superhero, the next election’s in the bag. If not, start updating your resume.”
27 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, president, son, superhero, supervillain, Zen | posted in Friday Fictioneers
I haven’t done a Visual Fiction story in a while, but it’s a flash fiction story based on a picture of my own. I took this one in Bundang, Korea.
Act Natural
“Look, I don’t usually ask you for a favor, but you got to help me out. Can you take the blame for this one?”
“Take the blame? It’s bigger than me. No one is going to believe I did that.”
“They’re going to bust me, I know it. I can’t go back in that corral again.”
“Well, then pick it up.”
“I have hooves, I can’t pick up anything. Can you?”
“It looks pretty heavy for me.”
“Oh crap, here they come. Just act natural.”
5 Comments | tags: animals, argument, cow, fiction, flash fiction, Korea, mouse, photograph, poop, quirky, statue, visual fiction | posted in Light
First of all, let me say Merry Christmas, or Happy Holidays or whatever, since the next story I do will be after Christmas. Next, let me say I’m sorry that I’ve been bad about reading stories lately. I tend to be very busy these days, but I’ll make an effort. Lastly, this is not based on a true story.
copyright Jean L Hays
Distortion
“Honey, I’m worried.”
Nag.
“I think you might have a problem.”
Overbearing.
“I love you and I just want to spend time with you.”
Emotional blackmail.
She finally looked into his eyes that were snapping like firecrackers. Why was he so angry? She worked hard; couldn’t she relax?
“Fine. I’m going out.”
Ah, peace.
“Can you pick up milk?” she called after him.
She clicked START on her 673rd game of the weekend and the familiar music washed over her mind like a long overdue narcotic rush. Come on high score, she thought, as the colored blocks began to fall.
43 Comments | tags: addiction, distortion, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, marriage, quirky, relationships, Tetris, video games | posted in Friday Fictioneers
A piece for Al Forbes’ Sunday Photo Fiction.
The Golden Circle
“He’s the king.”
“We can’t trust him.”
“But he’s the king.”
“He killed eight people.”
“He’s the king.”
In the nation of Vallakha, there was no way to remove a monarch. He was installed by God and was above the law. So when King Jerome III began roaming the palace halls, killing servants and courtiers, there was intense discussion about to what to do.
“Execute him?”
“Impossible.”
“Imprisonment?”
“He controls the prisons. Nothing is higher than the king, except God himself.”
“Nothing but God . . .”
On the first day of summer, the king was imprisoned in his bedroom, surrounded by golden bars, which were blessed and made part of the Church. His guards were priests. His rule remained absolute through the whole nation, except for a circle, four inches wide, that surrounded him.
13 Comments | tags: Alastair's Photo Fiction, church, fiction, flash fiction, king, monarchy, murder, prison | posted in Dusk
I thought the Friday Fictioneers community might be interesting in knowing that one of my previous Fictioneers stories, Enough to Go Around, was recently accepted to be part of the upcoming Leodegraunce flash fiction anthology. I’m not sure when it’s coming out, but I’ll let you know when I know.
As for this current story, I have nothing to say except that it is not an allegory, just a story.
copyright Adam Ickes
Discalceate Dreams
The feel of verdant, dew-covered blades anointing his toes: rapture.
Gamboling barefoot through a meadow: epiphany.
The pungent, whispering squish of a cow pie under his heel: heavenly.
Feet baptized in a cool, sun-flecked brook: pure adoration.
Denouncing shoes forever for the wild, free ecstasy that only the holy unshod can know: heresy.
“Reebok! Reebok Puma III, are you listening to me?” The iron voice crushed his fantasies under its cruel heel and brought him back to an equally hard reality of tight shoes pinching his feet. He nodded glumly and raising the Sacred Shoehorn, he repeated the catechism again.
26 Comments | tags: daydream, discalceate, dream, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, quirky, Reebok, religion, shoes | posted in Friday Fictioneers
This week, 100 words seemed like a lot for one story, so I wrote 4, each about 25 words. Well, kind of… 🙂
copyright Randy Mazie
The Dog, the Clubhouse, and the Cookies
Ralph:
Herb and I got a clubhouse: no girls allowed. Except my beautiful Nellie. She’s tough too—she killed the dog that almost bit me.
Nellie:
I killed the dog to stop Ralph crying. What a baby. I only went to his “clubhouse” to meet Herb. He’s cute.
Herb:
Ralph is a traitor, bringing that girl to our special place! They’re not getting any of the cookies Mr. Horowitz made for us.
Mr. Horowitz:
Those damned kids killed Rex, my only friend in the world! The poison in the cookies isn’t enough to kill them, just teach them a lesson.
53 Comments | tags: clubhouse, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, jealousy, kids, Poison | posted in Friday Fictioneers
The Green-Walled Tower 