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
Time to continue our journey to a new place with the second part (click here for the first part) of a flash fiction called:
A New Place
Benjamin opened his mouth and only uttered out the simple question of: “Who are you?”
The boy crossed his arms and swayed from side to side. He was wearing a strange outfit upon further inspection: a purple and yellow pair of pants, and a deep crimson red shirt. All the clothe looked threadbare and worn out.
“I’m not sure, actually. I tried to figure it out one time: but I had a headache.” Continue reading
In this flash fiction, beyond the hedge: there is a world. A world containing a choice, a boy, and something…off.
I call it:
A New Place
Benjamin Nosh, age thirteen, stared at the gap in the wall of hedges. He was sure he’d never seen it there before, not in all the days he’d walked home from school.
He leaned forward, peering inside, but only found a second, further away wall of hedges stretching in either direction. Benjamin, back when he lived in Illinois, had spent some time in a corn maze at a festival, and this looked much the same. Like a hallway made of foliage. Continue reading
Her dance moves literally defied physics. She tapped both her feet on the ground at the same time and rose several inches. And drifted back down with a twirl which took her hemline and lifted it to her thighs.
And her arms hugged her body afterward, and she swayed as the surrounding air froze to the slow motion of the dance.
I stood, looking, staring, ogling, at her, and nearly dropped my drink. Nearly let it fall on the glittering tiles. Continue reading
I thought I’d try playing around with perspective a bit, and this was the result. A story called:
An empty pair of glasses laid on a table, a thick, syrupy liquid running down the left lens. Around it boiled various beakers of odd colors and odder smells. The glasses reflected light across the spectrum of human vision. A literal rainbow cast into the air. Continue reading
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