Flash fiction and Microfiction stories

8

Survivor

I'm Buying If You're Flying

There will always be buyers and flyers.

2

score

Adagio

As the chill of death came over me and me in my pj's of detox. In my gadabout as a social chameleon. Changing spots, and offering the pox. Honing my quill with a double edge samovar spewing my rot. Of ejaculations for madmen fools from my pen of a gothic persuasion. Dripping from my tongue to your lips in my loathsome hysteria. Feeling the flesh of night disassemble of digestible words for...Read On

7

score

Survivor

Healing Hands

Touch me with your healing hands

7

score

DenimAngel

Halloween Tale

Fun times

It is a quiet fall day and Halloween is right around the corner. Halloween candy as far as the eye can see. Itty bitty candy bars and mountains of candy corn and Laffy taffy. Little ones in their Halloween costumes. Witches, ghosts, firemen, nurses, and policemen. The usual cast of characters for spooky good fun. Parents looking for things to occupy the little ones to keep them safe....Read On

4

score

Adagio

The Depot

I have a make-believe teabag in my watch pocket. A crumpet off the griddle. Still warm with freshly churned butter. And I have seashells from the seashore, although there ain't no sand. But I carry my dreams in a bottle of Jack Daniels. Waiting here at the depot as the world passes me by. My ticket is punched. With a make-believe tea bag in my watch pocket. ...Read On

6

score

Survivor

Wake Up, Baby

Living among good Christian folks.

"Baby? You awake? Wanna date?" The car had pulled up and awakened the boy, crunching on the gravel road. It wasn't the first time. He reached under and made sure the ax was under the couch where he slept at night. Keeping it there felt safer. His mother whispered through the front door, "It's after three. You'll wake the kids." They were always drunk. They'd leave at last. This...Read On

0

score

Adagio

Gross My Verbs

Gross of my verbs like hump-back crows. Dark my philosophy of thundering words, through the soot of Rotterdam. Like the twilight with the mange. Regurgitating my sins with Ouija's omens. Listening to lords of my gothic Parchisi. Rolling the dice of my iniquity. In the hedgerows of my immortality over the paling dells of gobshites. Removing the hearts of stone. Swallowing death of defiled...Read On

4

score

The_Count

Yes, the cats play

I wrote this in response to a friend that was trying to extol the virtues of being a dog owner. "Cats don't play as dogs do," he informed me. "Yes, they do. You just have to understand the game," I respond. Our little ragdoll female loves to play and her favorite game is "Where's the kitty." The game starts when I go into the basement to start a load of laundry. As I'm sorting the clothes...Read On

11

score

Survivor

She Never Forgot

Kindness is learned at any age

11

score

KatarinaTechgoddess

When I'm Alone

I hate when he travels...

Little things see me through the times when I’m alone. I slip on your t-shirt and inhale the faint scent of your cologne. Silly, I suppose, but it helps. I hug my pillow and hold on to the thought that you won’t be gone forever. The grandfather clock chimes half-past eleven. That cursed time difference always messes with my head! Should you have already called? Or am I fretting over nothing? ...Read On

5

score

VikaJ93

Blame It On Hank

They sat in a silence so solid it had assumed the status of a third party. Her shoulder was to him, face pressed against the car's side window. He tried to think of something to say. But he failed and instead hit the radio button. It was the Country Gold station. Hank Williams was singing 'Your Cheatin' Heart'. So he said, "did you know that Hank Williams was only twenty-nine when he died?"...Read On

6

score

Brookell

Dream a little Dream

Was it a dream?

When she awoke, she was alone except for the cats. She sat there and tried to capture the essence of what had to be the most marvelous of dreams. Incredible characters, a fanciful story, danger, and friendships galore that felt remarkably real. She looked in the mirror hanging on the wall for a clue as the black cat purred loudly in her lap while the white cat curled around her feet. As...Read On

3

score

Brookell

Tis The Season

She couldn't do it any longer

"I'm sorry Marge, I can't drive with you any longer." "Why not, Lois? I thought we were friends? Is it my driving?" "Yes, we are friends, good friends. And no, it's not your driving." "Then what's the problem?" "You just had your car fixed, right?" "Yes!" "You went to the brake place down on Main St.?" "Sure, you even recommended them. I got a very good deal" "I know, I know, but...Read On

0

score

Adagio

Cornish Hen

Spawning the dead with the night's lilliputians. When I was but a loose nail in a granite garden. But a corpse must grow too dark heights of blue veins and all those lovely things. That tickle the bones of insomnia's cravings. But beware of the caffeine. It keeps one awake with a better dream than yesterday. Spawning the dead with the night's lilliputians. Now, I but a Cornish hen. ...Read On

Added: 27 Nov 2020 | Category: Micro Fiction | Avg Score: 0 | Words: 69 | Tags: musing insomnia gothic

3

score

Brookell

They Believe Him Now

Everyone looked a little sideways at him after his youthful stories

The town mourned when he passed away and held a very large funeral. He was survived by his wife, three children, and many grandchildren. The officiant told his long life and the many changes he had brought to their town. Suddenly a dark shadow passed over the ceremony, the crowd stepped back as a large green dragon landed close-by. The officiant told everyone to remain calm. The...Read On

4

score

Brookell

She's Come Into Her Own

She found love, but also found her purpose in life!

She wiped a smudge off her porcelain cheek. Her husband clapped her shoulder. "You were supposed to stay out of it." "I would have if the witch hadn't sent that dragon!" The neighboring Queendom thought the death of her step-mother was an opening to invade, she thought ruefully. "The men are starting to get used to you leading from the front! Your small friends were a huge help." "The...Read On

2

score

blackdog

The Finest Hand

I came the quickest way, across the glaur, when I was called, my heart almost clearing my body in my haste. Too soon, yet. The family is up-stairs, the ceiling weighted by them. I keep where they cannot tell my presence or its dread import. The Bible lies poised here, by guttering candle. What cruelty: a month past the same Book lay joyous open on this same table. That day, heads canted...Read On

Added: 24 Nov 2020 | Category: Flash Fiction | Avg Score: 5 | Words: 245 | Tags: historical childbirth

4

score

Brookell

Love Wins!

She enjoys a visit to the seaside

She sat on the beach watching her children playing in the surf. She knew they were perfectly safe but also knew the dangers of the water all too well. Her husband sat on the sand next to her, his arm around her shoulder comforting her and making her feel secure. "Do you ever miss it?" She looked a little wistfully as one of her sisters rose high in the water with her older daughter on...Read On

2

score

acarltoncraft1

The Watered Down Version

Saying goodbye and moving on

In the watered down version of you, you are merely an acquaintance not the love from my youth. In this version, you are smaller with those thin hands that keep slipping through mine. And, yes, you still speak with a bit of a southern accent, but it’s not smooth or gentle. This voice does not grasp me at once wrapping me in the light that was you. Those sweetheart-baby doll-honey-sugar words...Read On

4

score

kistinspencil

Checkin' In

Ya do what ya gotta do and thank the Lord for the time between

Leather clad knuckles rap the bar. Irish Jack grabs the whisky and pours a shot. "How ya be, Bill? Good week?" "Got those bastard Darcy boys, but they're thin shit for the miles rid. Need me some tender mercy tonight. Fanny free?" "Always for ya, Bill. Likes the way your Colt hangs, eh?" "Somethin' like that." Up the stairs, the door squeeks open. She's propped up on the bed, dressed in...Read On

3

score

Brookell

Success Can Be Earned

He stopped to visit the old homestead.

He opened the door to his old hut. It had been years since he’d been here. He never could bring himself to sell it, even after his mother passed on. So much had happened since that one day. His name became famous throughout the land and opened so many opportunities. He made some mistakes, but he learned who he could trust and who he could not. He found himself successful beyond his dreams...Read On

0

score

Adagio

Crossing Paths

Deep be her verdant green eyes. Wanderlust of dark withers. With a hymn of the silent night. In my dreams, dripping lust from the collarbone of the gothic moon. Beneath the willows crossing paths, like shadows of daffodils, blooming silence. Deep be her verdant green eyes of thimbles and stones. In rows of granite mahogany. As my dreams run backward. Listening to the crying. ...Read On

Added: 20 Nov 2020 | Category: Micro Fiction | Avg Score: 0 | Words: 64 | Tags: musing philosophical sensual love

1

score

acarltoncraft1

The Canvas

Jacob calls me in the afternoons, around three to make sure I am out of bed. On this day, I am groggy, but I still answer. “Let’s go have a margarita at that Mexican place by the gallery tonight,” he says. “Not yet. OK?” “Oh, come now, Jane! They have great fajitas, killer salsa. Besides, margaritas are your fav!” “I’m not up for it. Not today,” “Have you been able to paint?” “No.” ...Read On

5

score

Brookell

The Queen Mother

She planned well for the future.

The Queen Mother sat quietly as her daughter, the newly crowned monarch, presided over her first meeting of Parliament. She remembered her own first time, following the death of her husband the King. She knew her daughter was nervous, but also saw that she was doing well. She smiled to herself as she watched her daughter shut down one very conservative Lord with grace and tact, without...Read On

5

score

Brookell

He Aches No More

The old man moved slowly but with surprising grace.

His joints ached, his vision wasn't great, and say nothing about his hearing because he won't hear you. The stooped-over old man looked like a gnarled oak, but always had a smile for everyone. Once there was a time he could have lived forever, barring an accident or a firewood shortage. He lived more within his memories than reality nowadays. She re-appeared before him, as beautiful as...Read On

5

score

VikaJ93

La Fin De L'Affaire

4

score

Brookell

One Disaster After Another

What else could go wrong this year!

This year, amid multiple tragedies such as the Corona pandemic, record-breaking hurricanes and tropical storms, and an outrageous election — the entire airline industry was grounded. No, it wasn’t COVID-19, although that played a role in the many struggles by that industry. Even the grounding of Boeing’s 737 fleet didn’t have the reach of this latest disaster. This came from a...Read On

1

score

Adagio

Dark Razors

Self-inflicted dark splatter with a handle of mahogany. Straight from the quill of my Gothic literature, of memories and laughter when we were but razors. Now withering with rage on a shadow's stage of bones. A gruesome couple filtering the harmony of life. Bleeding the veins beneath the cloistered moonlight. Now the crimson clot thickens bringing with it the pain of memories and laughter....Read On

2

score

kistinspencil

La Vie En Rose

Rita sees them coming, moving carefully through the Friday crowd. She waits till they reach their spot, then kills the booming juke. "Clear the floor!" she commands, quelling the protests with a glare till the two are standing alone. She punches up their song and the room fills with ghosts. Eyes only for themselves, they embrace and slowly dance. They were girls then, lovers when the...Read On

5

score

VikaJ93

Target

There isn't much a target needs to know

Tony Marconi's driver took a different route each morning. Today, they'd hit the garment district first, then back along the boulevard. Cocooned in the rear seat he raked his brindled crew cut trying to locate the source of a slight, but persistent, headache. At barely fifty, he was one of the most successful beasts alive in this jungle of steel and glass; the booze and girls and junk...Read On

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Flash & Micro Stories

I'm Buying If You're Flying

Son Of Mayhem And Diphtheria

Healing Hands

Halloween Tale

The Depot

Wake Up, Baby

Gross My Verbs

Yes, the cats play

She Never Forgot

When I'm Alone

Blame It On Hank

Dream a little Dream

Tis The Season

Cornish Hen

They Believe Him Now

She's Come Into Her Own

The Finest Hand

Love Wins!

The Watered Down Version

Checkin' In

Success Can Be Earned

Crossing Paths

The Canvas

The Queen Mother

He Aches No More

La Fin De L'Affaire

One Disaster After Another

Dark Razors

La Vie En Rose

Target