Category Archives: Flash Fiction

Stories to intrigue, told in 2K words or less.

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April 14, 2021

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: Nighttime Headlights

He was closer at the time. That, I think, was the only reason I survived, and Herb didn’t. Like a hungry animal, the trick is simply to be the second slowest. Though what was chasing us was not an animal—I’m not sure what it was.

What we could see of it for certain was a light. We were out walking our city at night, a bit drunk, a little exhausted from all the dancing, but mostly calm, chipper, and riding that buzz of a good party, when a light came from behind us. Two of them, shining with a slight orange tint. Continue reading →

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February 23, 2019

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: When Art Has More Power

The two sat in fluffy chairs on live television.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I was nauseous? It was such a surprise to me. I thought I was getting food poisoning.”

The interviewer smiled at him, but she was nervous underneath the makeup. Her producer told her it would be a good idea to interview one of the Creators, but then they gave her a horror one. Continue reading →

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November 10, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: Body Changes

Sally felt stuck in her own body. She sat at the edge of her bed and stared at her hand. It did not fizzle, pop, slurp, or warp. She focused harder, and the skin turned a nice shade of purple. She smiled at that until it faded back to her normal dark skin.

“God fucking dammit!” she swore and ran her hands through her hair. A deep anger jutted through her body. She was on the verge of tears.

“Whoa,” came a voice from the hallway—and a pink furry creature stood in the doorway. “That’s not an okay word, Sally,” it said, its voice guttural. Continue reading →

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November 3, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: I Gave Up On Sleep

“I have not slept in so, so long.” Harold picked up his mug and sipped from it. Waiting for the reaction from his friend. The one he had called over for this exact conversation.

“How long are we talking?” George asked, eyeing him. “This is not like that time in college, is it?”

“No, no, nothing like that. That was weak sauce compared to this. I have not slept in… huh, I think it was twenty days now. It has been a major boon to my work cycle, I tell you that. I have gotten all the projects done I was ever planning on getting done in the last week or so.” Continue reading →

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October 31, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Special, Writing

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Halloween Flash Fiction: Ghosts Of Those Before

As I sit here, I think of them.

“And that is the agony,” Brandon Scott muttered and ran his hands through his hair. His eyes were tired, one more than the other, and his head was just a little off. “Sometimes I wonder what happens to them—and if it’s any different from what will happen to me.” Continue reading →

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October 20, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: House Hunting

Boxes and furniture sat on the yard. Old and abandoned things of melted cardboard and ruined wood.

Melvin and Clint stood next to each other, one holding a camera, the other wanting nothing more than to run. But Clint knew Melvin was not going to be denied. Dating him had taught Clint that lesson again and again.

“It’s…quieter than I thought it would be,” Clint said.

“No one’s been here in a long time. Duh, it’s quiet,” Melvin said and took a step onto the grass.

Clint flinched. “Don’t—ugh…”   Continue reading →

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September 29, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: Secret Keeper

“I like him.”

Yun took a step back, and his heart hammered. “Oh, cool…”

Gale took a step forward, looking both concerned and afraid. “What’s…you’re not going to tell him, are you?”

Yun had something in his chest snap. “No… no… of course not.” Continue reading →

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September 1, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: Angel’s Field

Dreamlike, you know. Harold walked among those stalks of grass and moved them as they whipped at his skin. Dry and somehow sticky—and somehow coating his mind too in that dryness. He was mentally warm, uncomfortable. But he kept going.

Up in front of him, something white and fluttering was there. Something that was the size of a person, but glowing. Pale skin. Bare and nude except for a small patch of fabric across the midriff. Wrapped loosely with jewels.

He should have been embarrassed, or at least aroused—but he was simply drawn forward. Continue reading →

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August 25, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: Cut And Stabbed

Knife into the chest.

“Oh…”

“What does it feel like?” she asked, stepping into the stab. Pushing into her husband harder and harder.

She grinned.

“How does what feel?” he asked, his eyes growing darker.

“Do you understand what you did to me?” she asked. Continue reading →

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August 11, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: Foolish Bravado

An uproar shook the social fabric when the young upstart had challenged the Flame Master to a duel—but that paled in comparison to the reaction when he had fixed the upstart with a haughty glare and nodded in acceptance.

And, by the rules of the Mage Academy, that was enough—that was all that it took.

They set it for twilight. Continue reading →

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July 7, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: Crunch

When they had brought Charlie in, when they had told him they were going to get the information out of him, one way or the other, he had no idea that this was the method they were going to use.

His superiors had trained him to not squeal any information even if they were attacking him in the genitalia. But, this, he had never expected something like this. Continue reading →

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July 4, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: Sky Tear

Mackenzie had her hood pulled down and her eyes stayed hard on the sidewalk. She ran, but cautiously. Avoiding bumping into anyone. She did not want to risk falling over.

Shadows warped and elongated. It was getting dark fast. This was going to hit right now.

She glanced up, but not too far, and spied a bakery. The patrons of the restaurant were peering past her and would for a very long time. She shoulder-checked open the door, even though it was not locked, and ran for the bathroom. Continue reading →

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June 30, 2018

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Flash Fiction, Writing

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Flash Fiction: The Most Frantic Of Deadlines

What sleep had he got so far? Is it important? So much to do. Is it important at the end of the day how tired a person is?

Faced with it again, and again—and time was warping around him as he did what he could with the time he had and the chemicals that made it all possible to pound more and more words out in the frantic way of the life that he wanted. Continue reading →