Microfiction: Glug

A bubble of air moves to the surface and pops. Anderson raises his eyebrow at this.

“What’s that…?” he asks and leans over the hole.

“Just air escaping,” Sonia says, and adjusts in her seat. She’d let Anderson have the one actual chair and was sitting on a bucket inside the makeshift tent.

“But from what? How did air get down there?” Anderson says, and keeps his head over the hole. Nothing else happens to the surface, nothing much moves or shudders. “We’ve had no fish for hours, and then this…” Continue reading

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Microfiction: A Quick Joke

Scans show nothing wrong with Yang, but, still, he is there.

“Look, I’m sure you have wonderful insurance, Yang, but this is gone too far.”

Yang crosses his arms over his chest. He’s a small man but has a large frown. “Are you telling me you do not want more business? It’s a dumb thing to deny service to a repeat customer.” Continue reading

Microfiction: Retry, Then Retry Some More

All Cynthia wanted was to date this guy. It was her only immediate goal. But the universe decidedly had other ideas in mind. She was not aware of this, of course, not at first, but she got the gist quickly.

For instance, on her way out of her neighborhood, her car exploded underneath her feet. One second her foot pushed down the pedal, and the next a fireball erupted and seared off her everything. Continue reading

Microfiction: Moving In, Moving Out

Wednesday recalls moving in and remembers the moment she wanted to move out. She sees them both as the last of the boxes leave the room. All over the world Wednesday’s gone, seen, and done so much. But, still, each house, no matter how small a time spent there, was a memory, and nothing closes a memory like the last item out of the room.

“I’ll miss it here,” she says and knows she is lying and telling the truth all at the same time. Continue reading

Microfiction: Bagels And Cream Cheese

“They say the percentage of redheads in this country is really tiny,” Hebert said to the woman as she handed over the cheap bagel, the near-it’s-expiration-date cream cheese tube, and the coffee with a price in the two digits.

“Is that so?” she said, sounding bored. “Well, I guess that’s cool. Enjoy your food.” Continue reading

Microfiction: Weapon-Grade Buttons

A family of four did not survive for even four seconds. The first rev of the machine gun spewed death so fast they were not even aware that their flesh had jolted to pieces.

Innocent? Is anyone innocent?

Ken pressed the button on his console. He flicked a switch; he spun a few dials. He pressed another button. Continue reading

Microfiction: Desk Setup

The computer connected to the phone. A link cable, pushed into the side, made sure that the data went into the laptop, and posted to all the social mediums on the planet. The images of one life added to the collective of the rest. Giving some understanding of who owned the picture—perhaps the only understanding available. Continue reading

Microfiction: The New Heroes

Not everyone is cut out for the hero lifestyle in this fantasy microfiction called:

The New Heroes

Grand Master Tamer J. Ward stood off a few tens of feet from the battle and surveyed the situation. Examining the two new recruits.

It was as he expected: they were terrible. Continue reading

Microfiction: Learning

Quick, dirty, and cerebral. Welcome to the microfiction:

Learning

Mr. Burner was a tad concerned when he found his student, Billy Auster, sitting by the side of the railing on the third floor of the School for The Miraculous Brain. Not because of the height, Billy was a fairly careful child and was not going to do any of the stupid showboating another student might. Continue reading

Microfiction: Farmer

May I present a short, strange story about a thankless job.

It’s called:

Farmer

— 

We rise with the sun. They rise with the night. And the first step is always to make sure they do not breach the earth. We feed the soil. We water them as best we can. But they still grow out of the ground at the rate they do. So we chop off the exposed parts and force them back. Continue reading

Microfiction: Analog + Poem: I Can’t Not Rhyme

Well, this is a new one. This week, because I ended up creating two smaller pieces instead of a flash fiction, I thought I’d present them as a package deal.

They are both comedic, so it does work…kinda.

Enjoy.

MICROFICTION: ANALOG

Continue reading

Microfiction: Listen To Me

“Stand still.”

Of course I do. It seems the most obvious thing in the world. My muscles lock up so tight I can’t even bend my tongue.

“Oh, where are my manners? Breath.”

The air is cold and sweet when it rushes down my throat. My dog, Skipper, whimpers next to me. He sounds scared. But the gentleman keeps on petting him, running painted green nails across Skipper’s fur.

“Do you understand what’s happening to you? Answer and then say nothing more. I forbid you to scream.” Continue reading