Tag Archives: flash fiction

June 19, 2019

Atlas Snoozed

Jimmy rushed to the airport from his night shift at the I-20 overpass. He took the architecture entrance, trying not to step on any early morning commuters in his haste.

“About friggin’ time,” Tommy muttered, the third shift A15 pillar on Concourse D. They carefully switched places. Pillaring wasn’t exciting, but it was steady work for those cursed to be 100 feet tall.

Jimmy awoke to tiny screams. He was on his knees, the roof sagging above him. He’d smashed the Gate 24 United counter. Again.

He ordered a ventimila* from Starbucks. This was going to be a long day.

*ventimila: 20,000 ounces (about 156 gallons)

42 Comments | tags: airport, coffee, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, giant, humor, job, sleepy, Starbucks | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light

June 12, 2019

Division of Labor

By David Stewart

There are three of us stuck in this cabin, locked up together until spring comes.

Raymond’s fat and lazy. Heaven help us, it’s his job to cook and keep the fire going. Liam is small, hard, and lazy. He cleans and does the laundry when I can convince him to go collect snow to melt for wash water.

My job is to keep the whole operation going and give the others a whack when they need it. They should thank Providence I lost my way in that blizzard and happened to stumble on their cabin. Otherwise, nothing would get done.

40 Comments | tags: cabin, cabin fever, chores, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, humor, winter | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light

June 7, 2019

Colorful Grandmama

By David Stewart

Grandmama was as colorful as her house, but instead of flowers adorning her steps, she had pictures covering her arms and neck. Maybe other places too. She’d been in the circus, she said.

Five years after she died, I came across a book of criminal tattoos. As I read the meanings of the designs I’d grown up seeing on my grandmama’s skin, I realized I never really knew her.

“You knew her,” my mother said when I confronted her. “You knew the person she remade from the ruins of that former life. It is easier to change spirit than skin.”

30 Comments | tags: criminal, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, grandmother, tattoos | posted in Friday Fictioneers

May 29, 2019

Back Under the Sea

By David Stewart

Back Under the Sea

Eric watched every day, but Ariel was gone. Somehow, she had gotten her fish tail back and swam home.

“I could give you a tail, to go after her,” a witch said, sidling up.

“For what?”

“Just your . . . reproductive apparatus. You won’t need it down there.”

Finally, Eric relented. The transformation complete, he flopped down into the water.

He found the undersea kingdom, but not Ariel.

“It’s a bit awkward,” Triton said. “She went across to Sweden. Fell in love with another prince. But—” he made an expansive gesture “—there’re still plenty of fish in the sea!”

47 Comments | tags: Ariel, Eric, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, humor, Little Mermaid, Triton, Under the Sea, witch | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light

May 23, 2019

What the Donkey Saw

By David Stewart

What the Donkey Saw

The blindfolded child tottered towards the two-dimensional donkey, another victim of her uncle’s over-enthusiastic spinning.

The point of the pin swayed. Then, with a deft thrust, she skewered the animal’s eye.

In a bunker near Pyongyang, technicians watched the screen turn to static.

“Sir, camera destroyed.”

“Clearly,” the captain said. “Well, Operation Birthday Party was yielding less intelligence than anticipated.”

“Sir, I was wondering—”

“For the last time, no bouncy castle!” the captain shouted. Twelve faces drooped. “Well, maybe for the Dear Leader’s birthday. Now, switch to Operation Chucky Cheese. That mouse has some dark secrets. I guarantee it.”

37 Comments | tags: birthday party, espionage, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, hidden camera, humor, North Korea, pin the tail on the donkey, spy | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light

May 15, 2019

Starring in the Very Special Olympics

By David Stewart

I will admit, I was in kind of a weird mood when I wrote this. But it makes me laugh, so I make no apologies.

It was like a nightmare, standing before crowds of drunken fans, naked, but for a Speedo. How had he gotten here?

The gun fired. Six people dived, followed by six wet slaps.

The water was Jello.

The crowd whooped. They’d known.

He pulled himself along, wallowing like an epileptic badger. Some got in his mouth: Tropical Fusion flavor, damn them.

He woke with a start in the locker room. It was a dream.

“Harrison, there you are!” the coach said from the door. “You got your 10-meter maple syrup dive in five minutes. Come on!”

He pinched himself.

No luck.

35 Comments | tags: diving, dream, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, humor, Jello, maple syrup, swimming | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light, Uncategorized

May 8, 2019

Moaning the Lonely Ghost Blues

By David Stewart

The late Johnny White sulked. He barely had enough spirit to make the temperature dip.

“Hey, Boo!” Jessica said, sliding through the wall. “How’s the haunting?” She looked around the empty ruined house. “Oh.”

“You’re lucky,” Johnny said. “Your house gets lots of visitors. Nobody even knows I died.”

“My husband did brutally murder me,” she said sympathetically. “Look, if I ever manage to write in blood, I’ll say ‘Go down the road three miles. It’s super scary.’”

“You don’t think we could . . . co-haunt?”

Jessica looked skeptical. “That’s sweet, but I’ve only known you a few centuries. Maybe next millennium.”

39 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, Ghost, Haunted house, haunting, lonely | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light

May 1, 2019

Torahman

By David Stewart

“I want something like Bibleman, but cooler. And for Jews.”

Jeff wasn’t sure how the rabbi had heard of Bibleman. “So, you want me to create . . . Torahman?”

“No, that’s too stereotypical. I want something original. And tougher. How about The Maccabee?”

“Okay.” Jeff didn’t know how to draw a Maccabee. “Does he throw stars of David?”

“Sure.”

“And his sidekick could be Dreidl Boy.”

The rabbi frowned. “That seems stereotypical.”

“Does he kill people?”

“No! He just teaches kids about Judaism.”

“He teaches? So he’s basically. . . Torahman then.”

The rabbi looked deflated. “Fine, Torahman. And stick Dreidl Boy in there too.”

When I finished writing this, I did a Google search and apparently there is a Torahman already, although his sidekick is called Mitzvah Boy. It seems you can’t make this stuff up.

36 Comments | tags: Bibleman, Dreidl Boy, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, Jewish, superhero, Torahman | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light

April 26, 2019

Low Tide

By David Stewart

I’m always happy to use the words eldritch and horror in the same sentence. The stone the tide unearthed showed carvings of creatures: which creatures I wasn’t sure, but they possessed a heaping helping of tentacles, wings, eyes, and talons.

That explained a lot. The mysterious disappearances from the beach, the green lights hovering over the moonless bay, the shrieking of ghastly voices on windless nights.

This was perfect.

There is a demographic who would risk madness and death to glimpse anything described as eldritch horror.

I started the R’yleh Diving Club and waited for the freaks to pour in.

The nightmare corpse-city of R’lyeh…was built in measureless eons behind history by the vast, loathsome shapes that seeped down from the dark stars. There lay great Cthulhu and his hordes, hidden in green slimy vaults.

— H. P. Lovecraft, “The Call of Cthulhu” (1928)

18 Comments | tags: Cthulhu, eldritch, fiction, flash fiction, horror, lovecraft, R'yleh | posted in Dark, Friday Fictioneers

April 17, 2019

Treasure Hunt Plea

By David Stewart

One of the nice things about a photo prompt is that there are many different aspects that you can draw a story from. For instance, the clouds, the buildings, the garbage bag, the snow, the graffiti on the building, or the whole thing together. I’ve decided to concentrate on the graffiti, telling the story in the medium itself.

Treasure Hunt Plea