Friday Flash Fiction - 100-Word Stories

The Invisible, Lost and Found, by Kim Favors

23/2/2020

More heart procedures soon. Another cardiac ablation and cardioversion, plus meds that leave her lightheaded and dopey.

Her bullying father, again told little, insisted she’s dying and demanded her money. She let the answering machine take his calls.

This hospital stay is different. No laptop or cellphone, and she ignores — at least tries — Trump’s televised travesties.

Instead, she interacts with not only doctors and nurses, but technicians, students, volunteers, cleaning crews, nearly everyone taking care of her.

She asks about their goals, lives, pets. She congratulates. Says thank-you often.

And learns something important about herself: Her heart is already healing.

Expression of Eternal Love, by Benjamin Kardos

23/2/2020

“Do you still love me?” Kelly asked one day.

“Of course I do,” George said. “Why would you even need to ask?”

“No reason, I was just curious.”

“Remember that love song I wrote for you on guitar? Remember when I played it at open mic night?”

“I remember. That was our first year of marriage 9 years ago.”

“So?” said George. “I feel the same now as I did then. That song was an expression of eternal love.”

“Really?” Kelly made a face.

“Yes, so what’s the matter?”

“Well, honestly…” she hesitated. “It just wasn’t a very good song.”

Blue Crack, by Arvind Howarth

21/2/2020

The last gulp of coffee. My hands move across the keys without me and I'm staring at the sickly plastic-blue edged screen. My eyes magnet to where red notifications usually glow, but there are none. I feel mild disappointment. Oh - I am considering changing my cover picture - adding a cutout to the black and white photo of my brother's complex with tangled white sculpure. I click my name to get there and see it won't work.My number of friends has gone down from 402 to 401. My mood plummets and I instantly regret the last thing I shared.

Inked Pulp, by Jonathan A. Watson

21/2/2020

I dreamt I met the late Nick Joaquin. We were floating in darkness black as ink. Unseen thunder told me that I may ask one question.

“How does one get over the blank page?” I asked, fixating my shy gaze on his nicely combed hair. “Reality sometimes lacks inspiration.”

“Imagination.” he smiled. He then faded into the darkness that disappeared as I opened my eyes.

“Interesting dream.” my friend laughed over breakfast. “Very imaginative.”

“I dreamt I met Nick Joaquin.” I later said aloud, while typing it onto my laptop during dinner. “We were floating in darkness black as ink.”

The Gift, by Ran Walker

21/2/2020

Her sisters bought her a wig of human hair as a gift before her first round of treatments, but it felt funny on her head, so she placed it on a foam stand and named it Annalise.

At night, long after her sisters had returned to their homes, she talked to Annalise. She told Annalise the things she couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone else, the fears that haunted her.

And while Annalise never said a single word in response, when she got the update from her oncologist, she wanted Annalise, above all others, to hear the good news first.

Smile, by Robb Lanum

21/2/2020

Dan couldn't stop smiling — literally. His facial muscles locked, leaving doctors stumped. Injections, hypnosis, Morrissey,... nothing helped.

Smile. Now hold that... for FIVE MONTHS. Feel tension in your cheeks? Forehead? No wonder the Joker had a death wish.

Dan's smile eventually vanished, thanks to his mother-in-law. Not like THAT — it was her minestrone. Dan took a slurp, closed his eyes,... and a warm, genuine smile overtook him, unlocking everything. Dan almost kissed her (but c'mon: mother-in-law).

Some take Dan's story as some kind of fable, something about gratitude and simple pleasures, about irony and letting go.

Pollyannas.

It's just MSG.

Hesitation, by EJ Silk

21/2/2020

I didn't know what to say. You stood there, not radiant, not healthy, but alive.

I made a cup of tea, and watched how you didn't drink it. Watched how your eyes searched the room. I held your hand. We talked, but I couldn't remember. Neither could you. You asked me what was for tea, and I replied. You asked again after the news.

You said my name, and I felt myself smile. I propped up your cushions, and listened as you spoke about Tommy's son, and old Ruth down the road.

I didn't need to say anything at all.

High Noon, by Gordon Lawrie

21/2/2020

High Noon: the notorious outlaw and his three henchmen were in town.

The Marshal turned the corner into the main street. Immediately, he made out four shadows against the sunlight.

Suddenly, one went to draw. But the Marshal was too fast: in seconds, all four lay in a heap.

The supervisor wandered across. "Well done, sir, you got all four. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's another customer in ten minutes. Thankfully he wants to shoot at the same four dummies, Trump, Putin, Xi and Johnson, so it'll be easy to get the set-up ready again. Same time next week?"

Her New Bicycle, by Bruce Levine

21/2/2020

The wind was in her face, blowing her hair and sending waves of pleasure through her entire being. A perfect day and a perfect route around her apartment complex – smooth roads and no traffic. What was supposed to be exercise was, in reality, a joyous adventure on her new bicycle.

The Runner, by Guy Fletcher

21/2/2020

It is a beautiful summer's day, healthy sweat pours off the young man as he runs on Whitmore Bay beach feeling as light as a ghost. He passes a panting jogger and looks at him smugly heading towards the rainbow coloured beach houses, encouraged by shreaking seagulls. The blue Channel sparkles as if covered with diamonds and he is as free as an eagle.

Suddenly the sun is replaced by artificial lights and he realises with a start that there are just stumps beneath his waist.

Ouch!!, By Julie Achilles

21/2/2020

He pulled and pulled but it was all to no avail-it was stuck fast, and it was going to take some doing to loosen it, and that's when he had an idea-he would try the tie and pull method, surely that would work.

An hour later he sat at the kitchen table head in hands and a throbbing mouth-looking at his mobile phone and thinking-'why didn't I just phone the bloody dentist? - still saved myself a few quid.

OUCH!!!!!

Long-time Lovers, by Ed N. White

21/2/2020

My name is Robert. My wife’s name is Mary Ann. We’ve been together for more than six decades and sailed through many troubling waters, finally, dropping anchor in the misty harbor of old age.

We’ve loved each other from the start and never stopped.

Last night, I reaffirmed that commitment. I said, “I still love you, Mary Ann, after all these years, and I will continue to love you until the end.”

She looked at me, and a tear dropped from each eye. She took my hand and said, “I love you, too. I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name.”

Nature vs Nature, by Paritosh Chandra Dugar

21/2/2020

The waters began to shiver and shrink leaving the banks in bewilderment. The green dwellers had no choice except embracing a slow death. A perennial autumn reigned. The winds began to wrangle publicly as if carried away by some nasty rumour. Mysteriously the green guards were stripped to their bottoms. One by one, they had to bow down and lie prostrate on the ground in humiliation. The unguarded heights were shamelessly denuded. Where could they hide? The sky began to cry. The earth heaved heavily. There appeared on mountain tops two behemoths. One was Money; the other, Power.

Too Much Pressure, By Mark Tulin

21/2/2020

The minister could have convinced me of anything. He was so confident, had a clear vision of how we all evolved. His spiritual energy was contagious. I felt an urge to make a difference, too.

But the more we talked, the more that I sensed something wrong. It was as if the minister were hiding a part of himself that he shielded with his beliefs.

I could feel his momentum steadily diminish until he began to cry.

“What is it?” I asked

“I have a confession to make.”

“Please, tell me.”

Tears welled-up; a brief pause followed. “I’m not perfect.”

Proliferate, by Adam Down

21/2/2020

Sadie never had green fingers. She over-watered cacti, and accidentally parched or overcut everything else. Her garden was where plants went to die.

But her mum persevered. She gave her a hydrangea. Said it was a piece of cake to look after, that even her daughter could do it. Sadie wasn’t so sure.

She stood, looking down at the tiny purple petals, half expecting them to wilt beneath her gaze.

Hydrangeas. Hydras. Cut off a head and two would take its place. Worth a go, she decided.

A week ago she only had one hydrangea. Now she has a meadow.

Return to Sender, Yash Seyedbagheri

14/2/2020

I try to email sister Nancy. Her account is unable to receive mail. The message resounds, a chorus.

I haven’t heard from her in a year. She left when they tried to send her to conversion therapy to cleanse abominations.

I stayed silent, unable to find the words. Leave her alone. Cast me out too. Silence taunts.

I hide in safe rooms.

I miss our screaming lines from The Big Lebowski. Her brooding jokes about humanity and its idiocy.

I try to imagine her with someone. A nerdy girl, awkward, but comforting. Imagine Nancy accepting the unchangeable.

I see emptiness.

Dead Wood, by Ian Fletcher

14/2/2020

He’d always been a complainer.

His wife had left years ago; the grown-up kids rarely called.

At work, manager after manager had suffered his ‘standing up for his rights,’ his passive aggression.

Yes! Retirement would finally free him from exploitation.

He sits in Starbucks, alone.

He’d gone for the Friday after-work drinks with former colleagues a couple of times since. But he was no longer one of them.

He never had been.

His request to return part-time was politely declined.

What was this empty feeling he couldn’t articulate or gripe about, this void which sucked out all life and hope?

Shifting, by Cate Lloyd

14/2/2020

Mr S’s familiar voice floated through the classroom’s closed door.

Charlie remembered when he had raced Nico back to lessons after recess, winning with a kick to this same door.

‘Boys!’ Mr S had exhaled.

The next day, Mr S started a lunchtime wrestling club in the reading corner. The boys expelled their energy by rolling each other around the carpet, a tumble of shorts and polo shirts.

Charlie tugged at his tie. His shirt felt scratchy and the trousers were too hot for summer. His backpack weighed a ton.

He hovered.

Would Mr S be pleased to see him?

Valentine's Day Inspiration, by Gordon Lawrie

14/2/2020

Rose lay back, smiling: she and Mark had celebrated Valentine's Day.

"It's amazing the things that come to you when you're making love," she said.

"I was a bit distracted," Mark admitted. "Go on."

"Imagine the heat we've just generated. If only we could hook everyone up to the Electricity Grid... all that renewable energy!"

Mark chuckled. "Well, if anyone in the entire world can make that happen, it's you."

He was right. On Valentine's Day exactly ten years later, Professor Rose McCormack collected the Nobel Prizes both for Physics (body-heat transfer to electricity) and for Economics (combating Global Warming).

Eric's Cough, by Mark Tulin

14/2/2020

Eric coughed a lot. He had cystic fibrosis and was told by his doctor to cough because it loosens his perpetually tight and constricted airways.

He tried not to cough in public, because people wouldn’t understand. They’d think he was sick. But sometimes he couldn’t help it, and many people were bothered.

Some rolled their eyes, while others moved away or left the coffee shop if that’s where he was at the time.

Eric’s grandmother always told him that he couldn’t control people’s reactions, only his, and if people are rude, he needs to be understanding instead of angry.

What’s in a Heart? by Krystyna Fedosejevs

14/2/2020

“It’s about chocolate. My heart is broken.”

Arthur caught Cindy’s words. “They have more chocolate hearts where I bought one for my mother,” he replied.

“No, I can’t eat chocolate,” wailed Cindy. “That’s why I’m sad.”

Arthur had an idea. “How would you like to pick something you can have?”

When they arrived at the store, Cindy got the attention of a sales clerk by pointing to a heart among hearts.

“Do you like it?” Arthur asked.

It was the same question he would ask in years to follow. Only now they weren’t high school sweethearts but husband and wife.

Random, by Robb Lanum

14/2/2020

When I got home from school, Dad was already home from work for some reason, sitting on the couch with the TV off. He smiled when I walked in, but got weird when he saw the guys with me. He asked if I wanted to ride bikes or something but we had a Fortnite tournament all organized. He just nodded and stood up.

I asked why he was home already - he said something and rubbed his eyes. I saw they were all red as he walked to his room.

He’s been random ever since Scott moved into the college dorm.

Little Sally Plays a Prank, by Ted Strutz

14/2/2020

SALLY!!!”

Mother’s holding Bobby’s hand as they ride up to the second floor. Mother is not happy, her daughter has disappeared. Again. She’d call once more, except she does not want to cause a scene in Nordstroms. This is their third trip from first floor to the fourth and then down again, waiting for Grandmother to finish her shopping in foundations. Grandmother is very picky when it comes to her drawers, and likes to take her time. As if anyone would ever see them, thinks Mother.

“Giggle.”

Mother hears snickering behind her and turns to see Little Sally, smirking.

“SALLY!!!”

The Big Jump, by Russell Conover

14/2/2020

Lyle sighed. He’d been all amped up for this big parachuting trip. It had seemed like an awesome way to conquer his fear of doing frightening things, by just jumping in. Literally.

But now, on the plane, he was having second thoughts. What if his chute didn’t open? What if the experience was terrifying and he wished he’d never done it? What if something else went horribly wrong?

Lyle stopped his mind. Life’s too short to worry. He took a deep breath, trying not to think about what he was doing. He had faith. He truly was curious.

He jumped.

Unleashed, by Ivan Ristic

14/2/2020

Wolfgang was eating his favourite vegetarian meal when he heard some guy on the radio. “Free yourself! Unleash the BEST in you!” How motivated Wolfgang was! These are the words of my life coach, he thought. Wolfgang opened ears and eyes for a heavenly moment. But then why his whole world soon became so noisy and blurry? His long grown fur and bloodstained sharp fangs disappeared, but all that men in blue and white are here for good.

The guy still preaches. Wolfgang is still locked up. All because he did not hear some of those preaching words more clearly.

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