flash fiction Category

The King’s Ransom

I hold him up at arm’s length, an offering to the gods, a tribute. He gurgles and squeals, wriggling in my arms. The sun kisses, then stings us. Beneath, his shadow wriggles along with him. I shudder, without a dark echo. That was the price for our freedom. Image credit: Photo by Riccardo Farinazzo on Unsplash

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The Prophet

I take a left at the end of my street and turn down a barely used laneway. I’m trying to avoid people, trying to maintain social distance, or physical distance, or whatever the latest pandemic catchphrase is. Hardly anyone comes down this way. I know this from walking the dogs. In the daytime, the odd […]

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The hit

“They exchange secrets; two strangers on the bus.” YeahWrite #416 Microprose

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Protected: The Pea-Green Suit

There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

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The Peacock’s Daughter

Music surges through the speakers. Salt-N-Pepa tell us to push it, and I survey the sea of shocked faces. Not really funeral fare, Mum. ‘No sombre music, Gillian.’ Yes, Mum. No sombre music. But you could have at least let me warn folks.

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Old Town Vet

A steady breeze blew through the deserted streets of Old Town lifting dust and debris into a ghoulish danse macabre. The blades of the old windmill whined their arc through the air, the rusted metal cogs and gears screeching in protest.

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So long, goodbye, farewell.

Sunita tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. If only she could tuck her scattered emotions so neatly away. This was the first time she’d been alone since Rajiv’s Commanding Officer had called. The C.O. had spoken quietly, calmly. She wondered what it was about death that forced a stillness on everything.

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Don’t Pea the Bed

John re-read the note, wondering if he’d overstepped. Thanks for the hospitality. I had a hard time sleeping, so I did some investigating. Lo and behold! I found a dried chickpea under my mattress. I can’t believe you tested me! Penelope P.S. Calling yourself a real “Prince” is creepy. Click the YeahWrite Microprose #356 badge […]

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Karti’s Revenge

Karti scrubbed with grim determination. It was tougher than she’d thought to get blood out of carpet, and she was sure someone in the building had already called the cops. Even with Marron doped up on tranqs, she’d had a hell of a time muffling his screams. Someone must have heard.

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Exit, Night

Night enters, rudely awakening fear while light peeks tentatively from other rooms. Fate reaches for the one match still housed within its book, lone survivor of smoking years. Phosphorus flowers into flame, snatching at the candle. Vanquished, darkness slinks away.

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