Tag Archives: flash fiction
copyright Managua Gunn
The Land of Eternal Summer Snow
Frederick braced himself as a giant hand appeared, blocking out the sun. A moment later, the earth convulsed and began careening back and forth. He clenched his teeth and thought of his training.
Not a twitch. Duty came first.
The world became calm again and a moment later, the snow began to fall—table-sized flakes that floated lazily down, blanketing the landscape. The shadow above moved away.
* * *
“I don’t know,” the boy said. “I’m not really into the European scene.”
“Well, we have Chinese, ancient Roman, even extraterrestrials!” the salesman said. “Here at Sentient Snow Globes, the customer is king.”
72 Comments | tags: European, fantasy, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, German, snow globe | posted in Light
This the last installment of the story of Peregrine and Becky. My apologies if this one is a little less stand-alone. However, here are the previous editions: 1. Peregrine’s Bar, 2. Clue 43, 3. Midnight Call, 4. Special Becky, 5. Freakish Becky. Obviously when you write flash-fiction, a lot of the story has to be implied. I am planning on writing a novella of the whole story of Peregrine and Becky. It should be ready in about…6 months or so, if I’m lucky. You know how it goes. However, I will let you know when it is ready, if anyone is interested.
copyright John Nixon
Rescued Becky
Peregrine knelt in the Parisian apartment and held his daughter Becky as she sobbed in his arms.
“You came for me, Dad.”
“I came.”
“I didn’t want to kill them.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry about Mom.”
“Don’t bring that up again. It was an accident.”
“Can we go home now?”
He nodded and took her hand. “Hey, do you know when we first knew you had a special gift?”
“When?”
“You were four. You whispered and made a street performer jump through his piano.”
Becky smiled and Peregrine’s heart almost melted. If he could, he would keep her smiling forever.
62 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, kidnapping, mind-control, peregrine, rescue, search, superpowers | posted in Dusk
The continuing story of Peregrine and Becky. Here are the previous editions: 1. Peregrine’s Bar, 2. Clue 43, 3. Midnight Call, 4. Special Becky
copyright El Appleby
Freakish Becky
They see me as a freak; a mutant to be studied and used. They want my Whisper, but they fear it too.
They finally took me off the drugs, trying to determine how I worked. I used my Whisper and they decided to send a message to my father, hidden in coordinates. They suddenly decided drugs weren’t necessary anymore. I Whispered and they called my father.
All it took was one small Whisper and they happily threw themselves through a fourth-story window.
I didn’t want to do it.
I just want to be normal. Why am I such a freak?
66 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, kidnapping, peregrine, search, superpowers | posted in Dusk
I took another break from Visual Fiction this week and decided to do Alastair’s Photo Fiction prompt.
Gumdrop Miners
“Come on, pixies, down the hole!” the foreman yelled
The pixie miners lined up at the head of the gumdrop mine, dried and crusted sugar stuck to their overalls.
Saccrin checked his gum-saw and his bag of powdered sugar. When it was his turn, he grabbed hold of the rope and was lowered into the dim expanse below.
Their deposit was yellow and the intense smell of lemons engulfed him. In the gloom, he could see other pixies sawing out blocks of gumdrop, dusting the edges with powdered sugar and loading them on transports.
It was a hard life, being a gumdrop miner. He wore a mask, but still, diabetes and “gum-lung” were rampant. Plus, they paid him in chocolate coins.
“Hey Saccrin! Get your candy-coated butt over here. We hit a peanut brittle layer lower down; you’re on chopping duty.”
“Sugar!” Saccrin cursed and went to get his axe.
24 Comments | tags: candy, fantasy, fiction, flash fiction, funny, gumdrop, mining, pixies | posted in Light
The continuing story of Peregrine. Again though, it should be able to stand on its own (I hope). Here are the previous editions: 1. Peregrine’s Bar, 2. Clue 43, 3. Midnight Call.
Copyright Janet Webb
Special Becky
Peregrine was close; he felt it.
The kidnappers had first said Algeria. Then, at the payphone, a husky voice had given him the name of this Parisian building. A dress on the balcony showed the apartment.
Crash.
An upper window exploded in a blossom of shards and a body hit the sidewalk with a stomach-turning crunch. Another man appeared at the broken window and stepped out—placidly, deliberately—and landed on the roof of a BMW. Glass shattered; the car alarm began to scream.
Peregrine sprinted through milling crowds to the apartment entrance. Becky was definitely inside.
Powerful, special Becky.
72 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, kidnapping, peregrine, search, superpowers | posted in Dusk
The third story in the Peregrine series. Hopefully it can also be a standalone story as well for those who haven’t read the first two. Still, here are the first two: Peregrine’s Bar, Clue 43.
Midnight Call
The payphone with no mouthpiece was a neighborhood joke, which was why Albert was surprised to see a man lift the earpiece and put quarters in it.
“Hey buddy, that’s busted!” Albert took another swig of Thunderbird and staggered closer. The man listened to the earpiece a moment, then slammed it down.
“What’d you hear in there?”
The man spun around, his face contorted with rage. “You wanna know? Really?”
Swig. Nod.
“I’m running around the world blind while my daughter is kidnapped somewhere. Satisfied?”
“How much they want for her?”
“Nothing. She’s special. Drink up.” The man walked away.
37 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, kidnapping, peregrine, search, telephone | posted in Dusk
I took this picture on a rafting trip I did last Friday. It was a perfect day for it. I’ll have to share more pictures later.
taken in Bongdong, Korea
Call me a traditionalist. Others of my kind have moved on to more modern types of employment: collection agents, airport security screeners, marketing executives. Some have made a name for themselves commenting on Youtube videos. Not me though. I’m stuck here under this bridge, trying to make an honest living scaring people into giving me tolls.
They never stop nowadays though, roaring past in their cars and trucks at a million miles an hour. My first day on the job, I jumped out and tried to scare one into stopping.
It was a tractor trailer. I was in the hospital for a month. Thank God for the restorative properties of pixie dust.
I still try to keep up appearances. Every now and then I can get some pocket money from a kid on a bike, but even they have credit cards more often than not and I don’t mess around with plastic.
It’s just getting harder, you know?
11 Comments | tags: bridge, fiction, flash fiction, quirky, troll, visual fiction | posted in Visual Fiction
I don’t usually do the Daily Prompts, but this one caught my eye.
Three men walk into a bar…
…and stop at the sight of four figures in a tense standoff.
One man is holding a .45 caliber pistol. He is wearing a rattlesnake skin jacket and has a patch over one eye. His hand is steady and he has the look of a killer. A briefcase bulging with cash is open at his elbow.
The second figure is a woman holding a rocket launcher, and swiveling it rapidly back and forth between the other three. She is wearing a pair of orange pajamas and has long purple hair. She has a crazy look in her eye. Crumpled divorce papers lie at her feet.
The third figure is a monkey holding a blowgun and loading a peeled banana into it. Its back is shaved and a large tattoo proclaims it part of the “Armed Primate Expeditions”. A typewriter and sequined tutu are on the floor by the bar.
The fourth figure is a man in a speedo who has clearly just come from swimming. He is holding a towel, his hands are in the air, and his face shows that he is about to wet himself from fright.
Two of the men at the door look at each other. “Another bar?”
“You guys go ahead,” the third one says. “I’m just going to make a few notes for my next blog post.”
19 Comments | tags: bar, blogging, Daily Prompt, fiction, flash fiction, funny, quirky, standoff | posted in Light
This is the first story I’ve done for Friday Fictioneers that is a continuation of a previous story. I took everyone’s suggestion and wrote another story about Peregrine. I’m sorry that I could not get to many people’s stories last week to read. I really enjoy reading them, but life is crazy busy sometimes.
Clue 43
The coordinates brought Peregrine to a deserted cemetery. The next numbers were chalked on the side of a gravestone. He looked them up: central Algeria, the bastards.
Later, in his Astana hotel, Peregrine sat with vodka and paper, drowning his despair and clutching at hope. He had chased 42 clues, like white rabbits, all over the world but still no progress, no message, no sign of life. Only more coordinates to chase.
He tried ciphers, rearranging the numbers, looking for any kind of clue. A chill went down his spine as words suddenly formed from the numbers: BECKY IS HERE.
77 Comments | tags: Algeria, Astana, clue, code, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, GPS, kidnapping, peregrine, search | posted in Dusk
This week instead of a Visual Fiction piece, I have done a 150-word flash fiction story for Alastair’s Photo Fiction challenge.
Perfect Timing
Why have you forsaken us? I thought.
Across the valley, the ghoul army was massing, a roiling corruption spreading along the once-pristine slopes of the hills.
I summoned Huzon, the prophet. “What is the word from the Most High?”
“It has not changed,” he replied. “Stay firm, and have faith. This is not your fight.”
The swarm crossed the small stream and began scaling our side of the valley. Arrows whined around us. I began to pace but Huzon merely held up his hand.
The first ghoul had almost reached the base of our walls when the clouds split and a shaft of light shot from the heavens. The sunlight spread, enveloping the forces below us. There were screams as many fell and died and the rest fled back to their underground lairs.
“The word of the Most High,” Huzon said. “My timing is perfect; I will never forsake you.”
10 Comments | tags: army, battle, fantasy, fiction, flash fiction, ghouls, God | posted in Dusk
The Green-Walled Tower 