Blog Archives

Anxiety, by Laura Lindsay

29/2/2016

“Mummy, a ghost!” Lia is sobbing. “No!”

A shredded plastic bag flutters the highway's edge.

I don't have time to work out my daughter's anxiety: three cop cars and an ambulance ahead. Navigating the tight path past this broken steel and glass takes all my concentration.

“It's a piece of garbage, sweetie.”

“No, Mummy. It's a ghost.”

“Well. Pray for it,” I suggest, distracted.

Her whispering makes me smile.

“Look! Oh, Mummy, look!”

The bag rises, straight up.

“See? The wind took it,” I console her, rolling down my window to speak to the cop.

There is no wind blowing.

Sadie Hawkins Day, February 29th, by Eric Smith

29/2/2016

“I can ask Fred to marry me today, right?”

“Sorry, babe, you have to wait until November—that’s when Sadie Hawkins Day is. Only the Brits can legitimately celebrate the role reversal on leap day.”

“Oh, well, Fred’s out of town, anyway.”

“Knowing Fred, he’d point out that Sadie Hawkins was only a character in a comic strip that’s no longer in existence.”

“You’re right. He would say something like that. As a matter of fact, that sort of annoying character trait gives me pause.”

“Let it brew, sweetie. Maybe by November you’ll have dumped him and met someone else.”

Mission Accomplished, by Russell Conover

27/2/2016

“Our plans to invade earth are going exactly as planned!” The red alien rubbed its tentacles together with glee.

“But to whom will we demand Americans take us?” the blue creature wondered. “These candidates for president are ... interesting.”

Red sighed. “All this bickering and name-calling during debates?”

“And a big wall between two countries? Really?” Blue asked. “Time to change our strategy.”

So the two, and their fellow extraterrestrials, invaded the presidential debates, capturing each candidate and sending them into space. Most people screamed in terror, but some thanked the invaders for their generous service.

“A job well done, Red.”

You Never Know What You'll Wake Up To in California, by Jo Oldani-Osborne

27/2/2016

Joanie was startled by the number of Tweets . She checked and for the first time ever her little town of Madera was trending worldwide. She called the Chief.

“Hey, Frank, I assume it’s OUR Ambrosia running through traffic on I-99.”

“Yup, Big waste of county resources. Plus you’re not zoned for mythical animals.”

“ Chief -- she’s a rescue. The other breeds had wings.”

“C’mon Joanie, secure your beast. It’s for her own good!”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

So-- the mythical creatures of Madera California would remain protected because the Chief of Police was a sucker for snickerdoodles.

Magic, by Emma Baird

26/2/2016

She countered the insomnia by making up stories in her head. Thinking about her working day or her life led her down too many rabbit holes and the minutes ticked by as her thoughts kept her wide awake.

The stories on the other hand… she gave herself magical powers in all of them. Abilities to fly, to be invisible, to conjure up objects out of thin air. All in direct contrast to her humdrum existence.

Sometimes, she just pretended she was rich and successful, and imagined how her life might be.

She preferred the version with magic powers, in truth.

Because, by Jane Reid

26/2/2016

SHE: I really am feeling guilty. I haven’t posted a story to FFF for weeks. I’ve just been too busy.

HER: Too busy? How much time have you spent on Facebook? How much on those brain-candy mysteries you check out of the library every week? How much playing Free Cell on your laptop?

SHE: Well, yeah. But I don’t seem to come up with any good ideas, and it doesn’t seem right just to post 100 aimless words for the sake of posting.

HER: And tell me, please, what do you think you are doing now?

A Very Modern Romance, by Gordon Lawrie

26/2/2016

Growing up just two doors apart, Chris and Lee were inseparable from Terry and Jo, two siblings aged almost the exact same. The parents got on, too. The kids frequently slept, were fed, and were even sometimes punished together.

Later, they went their separate ways, of course, but as family occasions summoned them home, friendships were rekindled. Eventually that became love, and finally a date was set for a double marriage.

In fact the ceremony nearly didn’t happen: the celebrant refused. Fortunately, two quick changes of clothing and several glasses of champagne later, he was in no position to notice.

Cowboy's Wash Day, by Eric Smith

26/2/2016

“JeezLouise, you’re riper’n rotten tomatoes.”
“Yeah? Your jeans walked to the outhouse by theirselves last night.”
“It’s going to be a hot’n today—Set that 55-gallon drum into the truck bed.”
Both boys stripped down and poured buckets of well water into the drum with their clothes and three bars of lye soap.”
They drove around the ranch bouncing over boulders as the temperature climbed into three digits. After an hour they poured off the water and hung their clothes on the line.
“I need some steak and eggs.”
“You wanna eat naked or wait for the clothes to dry?"

Assistant Editors: I Need Two Crossword Puzzles by 5pm, by Jo Oldani-Osborne

23/2/2016

Jules had a case of 4:45pm-writer’s-block. He balanced his Ticonderoga between his nose and upper lip. Finally, he asked Jack.

“I need an eight letter word: one who
misunderstands obvious statements is said to be:?”

Jack looked up from his own crossword puzzle.

“Ignorant.”

“Well, you don’t have to be rude.” Jules threw his pencil into his cup.

Jack started to explain and then stopped. Jules. Someone’s nephew. Always late. Never consulted a reference book. It would’ve been funny if Jack wasn’t under his own deadline.

“Clueless,” Jack mumbled quietly irritated.

“Perfect!” Jules smiled. One of them made their train.

Customer, by Sanjoy Dutt

23/2/2016

An Asian woman entered a shop, the English salesman asked, "Maam what are you looking for today?'
The woman in her Asian accent, "Do you sell rape?"
"What! No. Please look elsewhere," the shocked salesman replied.
The woman went out but returned in a few minutes, agitated. Pointing to a nearby shop, she said, "That man say you sell rape."
The salesman was puzzled, is this lady trying to set him up? should he call the police?
The lady brought out a box from her bag and pointing at some fancy paper said, "Here, rape."
"OMG that's wrapping paper."

Getting Hitched, by Bobby Warner

23/2/2016

He: "Hey, sweet thing, I really like you and all, but I gotta tell you right off that I don't never want no kids, 'cause I don't plan on plantin' my seed in no fertile ground so's I'll have to work my butt off to feed a bunch of squalling offspring."

She: "I hear you, honeybunch, and my birth control pill box runneth over 'cause I don't want no house full of rug rats neither--so if you got twenty bucks, let's go see Parson Thomas and get hitched!"

The Deal, by Bobby Warner

23/2/2016

Attorney Grimslaw whispered to his millionaire client who was up for Murder One.

"I have three levels of service. One, you get life without parole for $30,000.00. Two, you get 20-30 years for deliberate manslaughter for $75,000.00. And three, I can get you off with time served for $250,000.00. Payable immediately--and fully guaranteed."

His client nodded and smiled. "Give me an offshore account number and the quarter mil is yours within a day."

The attorney rattled off a string of numbers, and the client said, "Just get me released by June 2. They're delivering my new Mercedes that day."

Claustrophobia, by Eric Smith

23/2/2016

Billy’s eyes opened. A florescent light flickered into his eyes, stirring up a crazy, dizzying feeling that worsened as the gurney began rolling. They discussed him in the third person, shoving him into an MRI tube. They ordered him not to move for forty-five minutes.

The clanking began and panic set in. He calmed himself, pulled the chain saw cord—pop, pop, pop, followed by a roar. He cut a pile of one-foot logs, set them on the block, splitting them with the ax.

They still hadn’t pulled him out of the tube, so he’d have to stack the wood.

The Warning, by Russell Conover

23/2/2016

“What’s that, little ducky? A huge storm is coming?”

“QUACK!”

“And we have to go inside immediately or it’ll swallow us alive?”

“QUACK!”

“Relax, Marsha. It’s just a duck eating in the park. They quack all the time. Why is this one any different?” Rudy shook his head, laughing.

Suddenly, the gray clouds above turned into a monstrous figure, with huge claws and gleaming white fangs. Marsha and Rudy screamed and ran for cover, but it was too late. The monster gobbled them whole.

“I tried to warn them, but NOOOO,” the duck stated sadly. “Who’d believe a talking duck?”

The Black Hand, by Bobby Warner

20/2/2016

Freddie had waited for Tommy Glick after school, and fed him a knuckle sandwich. Now he was gonna miss supper.

Suddenly he saw a black hand waving to him over a fence. He ran, but the hand kept up.

To see who it was, he jumped and pulled himself up. A tall boy with a pitch-black face and painted on features grinned up at him. It looked like a giant doll.

The black hand grasped Freddie's collar, dragged him over the fence. He saw that it wasn't a doll as the thing's mouth opened wide, revealing long, sharp teeth.

The Unexpected, by Amy Friedman

19/2/2016

Maeve clutched the bulging Target back to her belly. It had taken some negotiating, but she now had a tiny hot plate, a pot, a can opener and enough food for a week.
Nearing her car, she thumbed the key fob and unlatched the trunk.
“Now guard these carefully,” she said, placing the items in the trunk. “I don’t want them bouncing around.”
“Wrk wuk rrk uk,” said the man in the trunk.
“Shut up!” she said. “You’ll eat when I say so.”
Sighing, the man curved himself more tightly around the goods. The corners of his mouth quirked up.

This Thing Called Home, by Roshanna Sidney Evans

19/2/2016

Seconds after she sent the email, her mobile rang.

Don’t go, he said. I’ll fix everything.

You’ve had a year.

All you had to do was ask?

I did.

Your wish is my command. Anything.

Can you create sunlight?

I’ll paint the walls bright yellow.

And warmth?

Just use a little imagination, he chuckled.

All right, I will, here goes.

I am following the sunlight. Crossing street after street I wait until a door calls my name and then. I enter. One luminous room after another. I lie on the warm wood floors while my heart and mind resettle.

Home.

Rain Fits, by Bobby Warner

19/2/2016

Outside rain clouds formed. He became agitated and irritated when it rained. As he got older his "rain fits" got worse. He sometimes became physically violent.

When the rain started he slammed down his book and began a sudden tirade. He advanced on his wife with an angry grimace. But she wasn't having any of his nonsense. She stepped to the hall closet and took out the rifle.

He came stomping and ranting toward her, and she aimed the rifle and hot off one of his big toes.

Never again did he bother her, or anyone else, when it rained.

Swipe Left, by Emma Baird

19/2/2016

“But I swiped left on you!”

Jenna was appalled. Her Tinder hook-up wasn’t working out. She’d swiped left not right for the guy in front of her – but nevertheless he was standing there, looking hopeful and proffering a glass of fizz.

“Oh… um, right,” he tailed off and nervously gulped down the champagne. “Must be some blip on Tinder.”

Jenna snatched the glass from him and finished its contents.

“Buy me another and we’ll see how it goes.” Champagne on a first date was impressive.

Donny smiled and signalled to the barman. There were advantages to a hacking background.

I Am Your Friend, by Gordon Lawrie

19/2/2016

When you leave your backdoor open, it makes my life so much easier. I get to see how much money you have in the bank – which means of course I can take it out. I can read your emails, listen to your phone calls, find out all of your contacts’ details – I can even keep it all on file if I want to. I can even see who you’re sleeping with. Even when your computer’s asleep. Or your mobile. I can go wherever I like.

Fortunately, you know you can trust me.

Thank you for letting me into your life.

Stay, by Joseph McMeel

18/2/2016

I long to be held. Lifted. To be playfully scooped up, hoisted upon his shoulders and dance through the kitchen. To snuggle in beside her as she reads the same story over again, as I mouth along the words. To play those silly games that had no logic or meaning but just because they were fun. I remember fun. Laughter. But it's no longer possible. Not that I deserve it anyway. It's because of me they can no longer smile. I'm the reason they can only look at one another through tear-filled eyes. It's my fault. Because I couldn't stay.

Guilt-Ridden, by Bobby Warner

17/2/2016

Looking down at the ocean, I wondered why I had returned. Years ago my wife and I launched the small boat. We climbed in and I began to row.

Suddenly Mary cried, "Look. There's a storm coming!"

Minutes before, the sky had been clear; now dark clouds approached.

I reversed the motion of the oars, but the storm came too quickly for me to turn the boat. The wind capsized us; unable to swim, Mary sank from sight.

I hurried back down the trail, guilt-ridden. I had been young and afraid, and had not tried to rescue my beloved.

Alone, by Bobby Warner

17/2/2016

The doctor told Victor he could no longer live alone. Victor had one son, but didn't like Dave's wife, so opted for the Shady Vale Retreat for his final abode.

He had nothing in common with the other "residents", and began to waste away, staying in his room most of the time. He had never known such loneliness.

When he turned 90, Victor began seeing wispy figures moving about--long dead relatives and friends.

When it came time to go, the figures gathered around, and someone whispered, "Come along with us," and Victor knew he would never be alone again.

Good Luck, by Eric Smith

15/2/2016

“Man, what happened to you?”

“You mean this big bandage on my nose? "

“Yeah, what elese.”

“If you live long enough stuff starts happening, right?"

“Well. . .”

“I got the Big C.”

“Jeez, sorry, I thought it might have been rhinoplasty. Or maybe some jealous guy caught you coming out his back door. But I don’t mean to make light of it.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“So what are your chances?”

“They say they’re pretty good. They scooped the bad stuff out and sewed a flap on there.”

“When does it get better?”

“I said the chances were good.”

A Cold Election, by Russell Conover

15/2/2016

The candidate had solidified his fan base throughout the country. Some of his promises sounded iffy, but the public gobbled up his words left and right. However, one issue still remained.

“Sir, how do you plan to prepare our nation for the season’s cold weather?”

“Simple,” he replied with a grin. “The wall between our country and Mexico? I’ll just expand it to hover over our country so that no bad weather can fall.”

Stunned silence followed.

The election process progressed from there. Claims and rebuttals were made, but in the end, we ended up right back where we started.

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