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Flash Fiction

Flash fiction stories vary in length from anywhere between one hundred to one thousand words. The aim of flash fiction is to ensure every word is absolutely necessary. Stories in this category can cover any of the fiction genres, the challenge being to engage the reader and tell a complete story within a limited number of words.

6

Stowaway

Outside, a thick fog had rolled in from the sea...

“No! Get off me!” Bessie screamed as she ducked and wriggled her way free of her abusive husband's clutches. The bar-room was in an uproar, a myriad of drunken sailors guffawed as Tobias Nelson dragged his wife from the room. “If I've told yer once, I've told yer a thousand times about spillin' good beer when yer clearin' the damned tables!” Bessie Nelson's eyes flashed wildly in the...Read On

6

Portal

 

5
DenimAngel
online

Scamp's Adventure #4 : A Visit from the Vet

What is the adventure today?

 

8

For The Want of a Checklist

Everyone should make a list...

Day and Night? Check. Sky, Atmosphere, Outerspace? Check. Land, Seas, Plants? Check. Sun, Moon, Stars? Check. "Well, I think that's everything." "So what happens now?" "We go home and rest." "What do you mean home? This is home now." "Nope. Home is the place we created on the Second Day." "Really? For some reason, I expected this job to take longer." "I don't know why you think...Read On

10

Close Your Eyes and See

Suspend your skepticism...

Have you found them? Don’t worry, most people can’t on the first try.  They’re there, all right, but only reveal themselves to those who are ready to believe, to accept, to embrace.  Close your eyes and open your mind. Clear away the prejudices, fears and preconceptions. Suspend your skepticism. Relax and let all your senses — even those you don’t fully perceive or comprehend, and may...Read On

5

Primeval Forest

Time had no meaning in the forest of green of the indigenous landscape, so silently still. Feeling the eyes of the chameleons as if I were trespassing on their Shangrila. However, I felt closer to God as the humidity brought out tears of raindrops. Like the oils of Babylon and hanging moss, they gave me humility.   It was the shadows created by my evolving imagination, that gave me the vibes...Read On

10

Forks

More unsettling were the ragged circle of butter knives stabbed angrily into the wood ceiling.

“Where the hell are all the forks?” John grumbled from the kitchen, not for the first time. “Emily takes them,” said El from the dinner table. “No I don’t!” wailed Em. El turned to her Dad. “Emily takes them and she hides them,” she said. “This is between her and me,” said John. “No need to get involved.” Sensing a temporary victory, Em added, “And quit calling me Emily!” John shushed...Read On

12

Someday You'll Understand

Both the best memories, and worst, haunt us and never die...

Fresh snow blanketed a sleepy, Saturday morning, making it the picturesque winter day that we dream. The jungles of concrete and asphalt were hidden, with white on evergreen, as far as the eye could see. Silent coffee aromas, maple sausage smiles, and fluffy pancake pride danced with the early banter that filled their home. In the rock surround, flickering imitation flames removed the edge...Read On

7

Act II

It was only a memory ago that I recall a dream I had of yesterday. Yesterday, several autumns past when the trees shed their wings of leaves poetically gold and mahogany brown. It was when the world stood still. Listening to angels with strings and harps. And we danced as I whispered prose in your ear. It was when the world was a quieter place and we fell in love with no bounds or fences to...Read On

9

The Wall

This dark, icy cold place is suffocating me to death.

My closed fists keep banging on the wall. My lungs hurt so much from losing air. It's becoming hard to breathe. I never stop pounding even as I can see blood flow out from my bruised hands. My mind is in a panic and the fear starts to creep up through my whole body because I don't know how to swim and the wall is giving me no respite so I can get my breath. I have begun to feel weak...Read On

14

36BC

It didn’t fit. It was the right style and cupped her left breast like a glove, but the right side gaped. “Everything alright?” Angie twisted, checking all angles in the mirror. “I’m going to try it with the blouse,” she said, bending to extract a small square of folded white cotton from a blue plastic bag. “Call if you need me.” “Will do.” Angle shook the blouse, tags flapping. She...Read On

10

Pupa and Chrysalis

She felt beautiful.

Em asked her Dad to mount a full length mirror on the inside of her door when she was nine years old. The mirror whispered to her just after she turned ten. Or rather, something in the mirror whispered. She had just started fourth grade, and for the first time in her life noticed that others looked at her, others judged her: her clothes, her skin, her weight, her hair. She started...Read On

11

Poppin' Time Again

What's that I hear?

Driving along the highway. POP. There it goes again, you think. Sounds like a rock hitting the side of the car. That can't be good. Might ruin the finish. This car is only five or six years old. Dammit all. Nothing to do. It's just gravel or stones along the highway. Can't avoid 'em. You let it go. Let it pass from your mind.  Days later you're heading down the highway again.  POP. ...Read On

3

Glory Of The Twilight

It was a wistful longing for the night winds that had me pawing dark's sensuality. As my breath condensate in a brume of sooted smoke from the nearby chimneys. And I grinning a grin of a harlequin. As I lit the gaslights, a choir in the distance harken a carol. "O come all ye faithful..." Beneath my button britches my manhood twitched, with Old Nick's itch. And with a glint in my monocle...Read On

5

Last Minute

He’s been waiting for this day to come for a very long time. Half his life. He’s spent countless hours over the years tracking her down.  She’s married to a wealthy man and lives on the coastline of Massachusetts. She’s a professor of Spanish at a small college.  Ironically, when they were together she spoke no English. But things change. Life changes things. And today the old man will...Read On

6

Re-Gifted Misinformation

We can't always believe what we are repeatedly told (and sing about)...

Santa uses flying caribou, not reindeer. It’s true. Reindeer and caribou are the same species and essentially the same animal. However, and we’ve all seen the pictures and movies, the jolly fella’s sleigh pullers are pretty big. Reindeer are diminutive in comparison, more like a stocky, white-tailed deer. It’s believed that the caribou’s Canadian Arctic diet is the main reason for the...Read On

9

Santastronaut

Some truths about Christmas that we've always known, but have rarely acknowledged...

“Santa works at the North Pole,” the boy told his younger sister. “He lives there with Mrs. Claus, his team of elves, and his magical flying reindeer. “Wrong, big brother,” his sister replied. “Santa’s from outer space.” “Outer space?” the boy gasped. “He is not!” “Is too!” “Is not!” “Is too!” “Shhh,” their father hushed as he entered their kitchen. “I told you two to use your...Read On

6

A whisper in time.

 

3

Obituarius, Vampire King

The elder mummy foretold me, as I was entwined in gauze and stood in sand to my knees; “Don't be exorcised by a two-faced omen.” The pain engulfed me as I withered, then was reborn as dead. Like gypsy moths in caravans, a brethren of the damned. Moving across Europe when present-day England was nothing but a rock. Giving mortals a new kingdom of the un-dead. A glorious aspiration long...Read On

6
DenimAngel
online

Scamp's Adventures #3 : A Picnic Adventure

what new adventure

Scamp, the monkey, and her friends are going on a picnic by the stream that runs near the farm. They are all excited about it. All of the animals are going on the picnic. They are all having their favorite foods. Of course every critter has a different favorite food so they need a really big picnic basket. Lady packs up the wagon with the basket and blankets for the animals to sit on. ...Read On

9

He Called You Darlin'

One more time

It's been so lonely, you are thinking, and this happens. These simple words make you hope, it might be. You always recognize your own hope appearing. "Hello darlin'." That's what he said. He's flirting, you consider. It startles you a little. It's been awhile. At least, since it wasn't someone that was overbearing, rude. Yes, you wonder, is this one going to be rude and mean. You don't...Read On

10

Something Is Watching

A groggy mind can play terrible tricks...

Ever get the feeling you’re being watched? That fear and reality exists even more so today than ever before, and I’m reminded of it every day. Our computers. Our phones. Or just walking down the street. But I feel most exposed when I nap on the couch. The other evening I felt eyes on me. From the corner of my half-opened glance, an alien appeared to be watching me. A small one, but with...Read On

9
DenimAngel
online

Scamp's Adventure 2: A Day on the Farm

What will the animals do today?

 

7

Ghosts in the Bedroom

A Lost Love

I lie face-up to feel the coolness of the room touch my skin; much as a lover’s hand might do. There’s a whisper of an air current that walks its fingertips of a breeze down my chest and across my nipple until it teases hairs on my manhood. The fingertips reach the tops of my thighs before the feeling dissipates. There is a presence on my skin and then there isn’t; a sense memory that comes...Read On

9

Clockwork

Perhaps clocks weren’t misbehaving. Perhaps time was.

Clocks had a way of misbehaving in the house. Clocks often misbehave, particularly mechanical ones. The clock in the car that is two or three minutes slower than the clock last spied before leaving the house. The clock on the oven timer that never quite matches up with the always correct digital clock on the iPad being consulted for a recipe. The unused coffee-maker clock forever...Read On

7

Closing Time

A bartender and a photojournalist talk

“Excuse me. Is the bar still open?” I look up from cleaning to see an older male with an overly patched burlap messenger bag that has seen better days. I motion for the man to sit down at a table that doesn’t have its chairs upturned. “The bar is closed for the night, but I can get you something. What would you like?” I asked. “A dirty martini,” he replied. “Extra gritty, double olives?”...Read On

14

Mother of Glass, Mother of Tears

Mirrors are a kind of window.

“You’re fat,” the little girl inside the mirror said to Em. It was long past midnight. Em’s parents and sister were in bed. Em was standing in front of the closed door of her room, where her Dad had hung the full length mirror. She regarded the reflection. The person in the mirror looked just like Em. She wasn’t Em, though. She wasn’t even a little girl, though she looked like one. She...Read On

10

The Smell Of The Rain

She sat back, headphones on, pressed play and closed her eyes. As she listened to the music she heard the distant rumbling of thunder, it was getting louder, closer. She smiled. Soon the rains would be here. Looking around, taking in the dry harsh plains, the cracked white earth pierced by the odd clump of long crisp parched grass, she breathed in, filling her lungs with the hot air. A...Read On

15

Lodgers

Houses sometimes held onto what happened inside them.

The house stood at the entrance to the block, dwarfing all the other houses. John and Alice learned a bit of the history of the house from the previous owner, who was a bit of an amateur historian. The original owner of the house, a Mr. Reginald Bowens--the man who built it, gave it life, brought it into the world--was a railroad scion for C&S Railways. The smaller houses in the...Read On

21
Editor's Pick

The Right Tonic

As his band stepped onto the stage, Tyrone stole a moment to sip his dirty martini. He ran his tongue along his upper lip as he admired the glass, savoring the lingering taste of the alcohol. With a contented sigh, he got up and walked onto the stage. During his break, the din of the bar had swelled to a jumbled murmur. The restless audience had taken to chattering over clinking glasses...Read On