Tag Archives: flash fiction

December 4, 2015

Did I Ever Tell You How I Met My Wife?

Disclaimer: this is fiction. This is not how I, David Stewart, met my wife.

That said, this is my 3rd anniversary of doing Friday Fictioneers stories every week, which means I have written 156 100-word stories thus far.

I was having trouble thinking of a good story for this one so I asked the students in my writing class. They told me to write “a funny, horror love story”. Thanks guys, eh?

I got my revenge though, by assigning them each to write a story for Friday Fictioneers. They have their own WordPress blogs as part of our curriculum, so they’re going to post them there. If you want to read them, the links are:

https://bobybangladesh.wordpress.com/2015/12/05/surprising-assets/

https://yuxianadventure.wordpress.com/

https://tmsamurai.wordpress.com/

The last two hadn’t posted their stories at the time I posted this. Keep in mind that they are still learning English and before these stories, they had each written one fiction piece in English.

Now, on to the story.

Did I Ever Tell You How I Met My Wife?

I unearthed her while digging the foundation of a new office building. She lay there, dead but conscious, watching me.

It took me twenty minutes just to ask her name. I was so shy.

It was rough at first; all relationships are. I’m a vegetarian; she drinks the blood of the living. Well opposites attract, they say.

That was 6 years ago. We’ve both adjusted.

My phone buzzes. Honey, bring a ssssacrifice home for dinner. I hunger I thirst lol

“Hey Bill,” I say to my co-worker. “Wanna come home for supper? My wife will whip you up, something special.”

32 Comments | tags: creepy, death, fantasy, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, marriage, monster, murder, quirky, sacrifice, students, teaching, wife, woman, writing class | posted in Friday Fictioneers

December 2, 2015

Sapphire Eternity

By David Stewart

The sea was calm and empty in the way a Twitter feed wasn’t.

Jake sat on the edge of the cliff, looking out into sapphire eternity.

He reached for his phone, realized he didn’t have it, realized that was the point.

What time was it?

The funeral was probably over.

They were probably furious with him.

How could he, of all people? they’d say.

He’d finally posted about her death, but couldn’t bear to change his relationship status.

He had to go back soon, he knew.

But for now he sat, letting it all drain out into that sapphire eternity.

11 Comments | tags: death, escape, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Uncategorized

November 22, 2015

Fruitcake

By David Stewart

My wife and I were making fruitcake today for the holidays since I love fruitcake. I asked her what I should write about for this story and she said fruitcake, so here it is.

Fruitcake

“It’s art,” Peter told his mother. He was ten and meticulously arranging boiled eggs around a raccoon carcass while a friend played D flat on the piano every 6.7 seconds.

“What does it mean?” she asked, but her expression said she thought he was a fruitcake.

“What does it mean?” a policeman asked ten years later, after Peter had put a woman’s shoe in every drain in New York.

“It’s art.”

“You’re a fruitcake, you know?”

Finally, he made a piece of artwork that captured national attention.

“100-foot statue made entirely of fruitcake!” the headlines screamed. “What could it mean?”

13 Comments | tags: art, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, fruitcake, New York, performance art, quirky | posted in Friday Fictioneers

November 10, 2015

Signing off

By David Stewart

The dark box lay in the hole, half covered by dirt. Soft weeping was the only sound to be heard.

“It was so sudden, right in the middle of the nightly news,” Jane said, wiping her eyes. “He got this blank look and there was no reviving him.”

“I remember the way his face glowed with life as we sat down to watch Jeopardy after supper,” Kane said. “Those were the days.”

Jane took a deep breath. “So, now what?”

Kane shrugged. “I guess we have to go shopping and buy another one. Let’s get a high-def one this time.”

13 Comments | tags: death, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funeral, funny, TV | posted in Friday Fictioneers

October 28, 2015

The History of a Future Solution

By David Stewart

The Neanderthal didn’t know the word cylinder when he pulled one from the swamp. It was hard and light and he found a thousand usages for it. When he looked into it, the crystalline interior sparkled like heaven in the rain.

He gave it to his son, who passed it to his. It was lost and found a dozen times through the ages, resting finally behind climate-controlled glass, a light shining through its crystalline core.

Marcus saw the cylinder at the museum while wrestling with an intractable problem. His brain shouted “Eureka!”

He ran home and finished his time machine.

38 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, history, Neanderthals, science-fiction, time travel | posted in Friday Fictioneers

October 21, 2015

Emergency Telephone

By David Stewart

Rochelle, the moderator of this crazy group called the Friday Fictioneers, just announced that this week is her 3rd anniversary of taking over the reins. Incidentally, it is also my 150th story, which means I started just a few short weeks after she took over. It’s been quite the journey.

I must confess, I have thought about quitting sometimes, especially lately when I’ve been so busy. But I don’t want to, mostly because of all the great people I’ve gotten to know through this group. Also, I haven’t missed a week yet, and I put a lot of stock in precedent. I also think that it has helped my writing by making it more succinct. When you get in the habit of counting every word, you look for the strongest words, those that convey the most meaning. Efficient prose is generally good prose.

Emergency Telephone

The bus was shaking and bumping like a twerking paint mixer. The man in Row 24 leaned forward to Row 23.

“I feel sick. Tell the driver to pull over.”

The man leaned forward. “Tell driver . . . sick . . . pull over.”

“Someone’s sick of wearing a pullover.”

“He knows a chick from Conover.”

“Someone wants chicken and cauliflower.”

The passenger in Row 1 tapped the driver. “Just wanted to tell you, someone in the back took Colombian karate, but the alligators didn’t bite.” There was the sound of retching.

The driver slammed the brakes. “Why didn’t anyone tell me he was sick?”

39 Comments | tags: bus, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, nauseous, sick, telephone game, twerking | posted in Friday Fictioneers

October 19, 2015

Brothers in the Fatherland

By David Stewart

Brothers in the Fatherland

The guards never check the back, my brother Kurt had said.

I crouched in breathless darkness, rain Niagara Fallsing down the windows. Kurt was talking to the guard, getting me through security.

I gripped my pistol. Kurt was loyal but I knew that only a bullet in the tyrant’s head would set the nation free.

I heard a command and the van moved forward. We were in. Kurt thought this was intelligence bureau training. This would kill him.

I’m sorry, Kurt.

The van doors flew open. Rifles pointed at me. “I’m sorry,” Kurt said. “It kills me to do this.”

10 Comments | tags: assassination, betrayal, brothers, fear, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, night, rain | posted in Friday Fictioneers

October 10, 2015

Swinger

By David Stewart

It was a beautiful girl day to be at the amusement park.

Jamie felt his spirits lift as once again the swing pulled him into the air. The crowds flew by beneath him and then—ah, there she was at her post in the second floor VIP lounge. Then for four seconds the rest of the park whirled below until she appeared again. He loved just watching her.

The next time around she was looking towards him. She smiled and waved and then was gone.

He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He had four seconds to decide what to do.

21 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, love, swing, woman | posted in Friday Fictioneers

October 4, 2015

Living in a House of Leaves

By David Stewart

“And dry leaves can make good insulation for cold winter nights!” Dr. James Hunt said, a touch too cheerfully, Alex his assistant thought. She bit her lip. Teaching homeless people how to survive on the streets seemed like a good idea on paper, but out here, it was a joke.

“Of course,” James continued, “newspaper is even better for insulation. I’ll pass out a list of recycling centers.” The assembled faces watched him impassively, just waiting—Alex was sure—for this to be over so they could get their promised free meal. They knew all this already; they must. It was a like a Boy Scout leader teaching a platoon of Special Forces about pocketknife safety.

“Well, I think that went well,” James said after the class. “What did you think?”

“It was a band-aid solution on the real problem.”

“Sometimes a wound needs a band-aid while healing takes place. I’m addressing the city council in a few months on the issue. I’ll share my research with them.”

“What research?”

“The research where I live on the street for two weeks,” James said. “I’m starting in a month.”

Alex stopped. “You’re crazy, it’s almost winter.”

“So?”

“So what if you die?”

“Then that will speak much louder than I ever could.”

“Tell me where you’ll be, at least. I’ll bring you soup.”

“Only if you bring enough for everyone.”

“How many homeless people are in the city?”

“About 13,000.”

“Be careful.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll try.”

16 Comments | tags: Alastair's Photo Fiction, city, fiction, flash fiction, homeless, research | posted in Dusk

September 30, 2015

Wireless

By David Stewart

Back when I lived in Korea and in a more auspicious time zone, I used to be one of the first to post my stories to Friday Fictioneers every week. Lately, I’ve been one of the last each week, so it feels very early to be posting it on Wednesday. But I had an all-day field trip where I drove 5 hours, so I had a lot of time to think. This week’s picture comes from my friend, Marie Gail Stratford.