Tag: Flash Fiction
-
Happy Anniversary
Casey stuck her tongue out in concentration, unwilling to take her eyes off the screen. A poke in her ribs had her recoiling from the touch, but she refused to give into Jonas’ distraction tactic. “Keep your hands to yourself,” she told him. As her character rounded a sharp corner on the race track, she ... -
Beyond The Threshold
The path narrowed as she ran; her lungs burned with each breath. Then, up ahead, a steep incline appeared. She knew the area well enough and remembered there was a small, dark cave to take cover. With little time left for escape, Petra slid down the hill to the cave. Crouching in the darkest corner, ... -
Book Of Fate
Rumors of a blank book that told any story you wanted caused me to go to the library one day. Opening the large door that led inside, the smell of books and dust filled my nostrils. It was enough to make me sneeze, which caused the few people inside to look at me funny. “Sorry,” ... -
Photographs: The Tired
Trigger Warning: Mentions of death and vague references to suicide. If you see my bones, speak to them gently. I took care to lay them down in the moss in that place I always ran to. I shouldn’t have done that, right? But running was all anyone ever taught me to do. Between the log ... -
Photographs: The Dead
Click here for previous works in the Photographs series. “What did you see before the wax melted and you fell back to earth?” I ask him. It’s just the two of us here right now. “Before your wings began to tear apart, did you touch the sun?” I hope he thought of his mother as ... -
A Story Told In Dice
Our story begins on a Tuesday in the cafeteria of minimum wage jobs. None of us wanted to be there; then again, who wants to work a job that only allowed a bare minimum of living? We were just three strange faces who barely knew each other. Our shifts were different, so we were passing ... -
Photographs: The Silent
March 25th, 2008. 3:45 pm “This should work for your assignment for this week.” Nigel sets down the photograph and looks across the desk at his student. The 17-year-old slouches and fidgets. His fingers tangle in a set of headphones. “Where did you find the model?” “I mean…” Nathan hesitates. “I just had my camera ... -
Photographs: The Monsters
I stole the moon when I was ten. Plucked it right out of the river. I hid it in my pocket all the way home, peeking once, twice, three times to make sure it was still glowing. I kept it on my desk like a nightlight until I was old enough to learn that monsters ...