Blog Archives

Employee Of The Month, by Ann-Louise Truschel

30/5/2015

We are here to celebrate our Employee of the Month, a dedicated worker who has enthusiastically performed all of her duties in a timely manner and, in fact, has gone above and beyond, netting an additional $100,000 for the firm during May.

Although she’s new to the firm, she has performed her duties exceptionally well, completing all assignments neatly, quickly and quietly, without drawing attention to herself, all requirements under our Performance Standards.

For obvious reasons, we at Murderesses, Inc. use only first names during our award presentation ceremonies.

At this time, let me present the Golden Gun to Emma!

Unfamiliar Territory, by Russell Conover

29/5/2015

With a jerk, Bob woke up, panting. What a horrible nightmare! He’d been trapped on a desert island, with no way of communicating with the outside world. All he had were the clothes on his back and, well, the beautiful atmosphere around him.

Wait--something was coming back to him. He remembered people around him on the shore, reading and sunbathing. Kids were making sand castles and flying kites. All seemed so cheerful, despite the strange surroundings. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Duh! I just returned from vacation at the beach,” Bob said to himself. “I gotta get out more.”

Malibu Nightmare, by Amy Friedman

29/5/2015

My watch pinged me awake. Yah, I know. Up n’ at em.

But where was I? Gobs of red and pink fabric swathed the ceiling and walls. Sheer pink curtains covered every window, light pink lamps rested on dark pink night tables, a light pink duvet featuring a fancy scrolled B covered the bed, and the delicate wrought iron vanity and chair were dark pink.

Sitting up, my feet did not find my Crocs, but instead, a zebra rug and a pair of high-heeled marabou mules.

This was weird.

I glanced at the vanity mirror.

Barbie’s 1959 face peered back.

That Friday Feeling... By Emma Baird

29/5/2015

Blimey – a great start to the day Alice felt. The cat had decided against his usual 5am alarm call, opting instead for the more civil 7am.

The email inbox had brought only three instances of people/organisations trying to sell her things, and one email praising her new company’s services – asking for an extension of the contract for another two years.

Who knew that such services would prove so popular and so rewarding?

Joining forces with Murderess Inc had been the making of Alice, despatching the unwanted, the criminal and the CEOs of tax-dodging companies. Someone had to do it.

Guys And Dolls, by Gordon Lawrie

29/5/2015

Barbie stood on the corner, chewing gum authoritatively. Most of the gang were dressed in short skirts and low-slung tops, but Barbie’s demeanour marked her out clearly as leader.

“Hey dolls, time to hit the clubs,” she said.

Nodding towards a figure standing a little away, Steffi and Cindy screwed up their faces. “All of us?”

“Why not?” A command, not a question. “He can’t help being male.”

“The inferior 49%,” Steffi muttered.

They set off, Action Man a few paces behind. Then he drew out his machine gun and wasted them all.

“The violent 49%. You dolls never learn.”

Gone, by Ann-Louise Truschel

24/5/2015

“Did the Sheriff find Fred yet?”

“He’ll never find that no good bum. The rat took all my money and spent every cent!”

A coyote howls a communication to the rest of the pack. His cry is answered by the howls of other hunting coyotes.

“Aren’t you afraid living out here by yourself, with all those coyotes around?”

“They hunt every night. When they’re finished, they go back home through that storm drain that runs under the road at the north end of my pasture.”

“They use the drain to avoid traffic?”

No, to eat. That’s where I put Fred.”

The Chase, by Russell Conover

23/5/2015

The driver careened around corners, always keeping her subject in sight. The chase hadn’t been pretty, but so far she hadn’t lost track. This wasn’t easy, either, with the crazy other drivers, the casual pedestrians, and other adventures.

And, of course, she almost got pulled over at one point. A cop gave her the evil eye as she passed, but she smiled and shrugged, gesturing about why she was going so quickly. The cop then had more interest in his donut.

The subject darted between cars, but the driver steadily watched. Alice was NOT going to lose her cat again.

Up to speed? By Alison McHarg

22/5/2015

Sleek, black and packing very many cylinders under the bonnet.

I glance in the rearview mirror - no-one behind me. Let’s see what you’ve got, I mutter, as I turn the car loose. Push the pedal hard; the revs and speed climb simultaneously. We exceed the 100mph mark, then 105, 108 and still it strains to go faster.

My nerve fails me and I slacken the pressure. An inner voice says I’ll be banned if I’m caught doing these speeds. Passing a police car my lights bob slightly at a bump on the road. Was that a wink?

Lonely Hearts, by Emma Baird

22/5/2015

Female, mid 30s, seeks ‘tall, dark and handsome’ for sinful fun.

Waiting in a crowded bar, Laney regretted the word sinful. Sure, it had attracted plenty of replies (in excess of 100) but many were of the very blue variety and Laney had actually meant soulful.

Male, mid-20s, seeks bubbly older woman for… experience.

In the same crowded bar, Adrian regretted the ellipsis. What if his friends saw it and cottoned on to his lack of experience with the opposite sex? He caught Laney’s eye and relaxed.

Elsewhere, a 16-year-old and a late 40-something began a mutually beneficial relationship.

Shared Embarrassment, by Gordon Lawrie

22/5/2015

Invited to Sunday lunch with mutual friends, they made small talk: how each knew the hosts, work, neighbourhood stuff, children and grandchildren, the usual things.

But she knew him from somewhere else, possibly a long-ago one-night stand, perhaps just a neighbour. Then she remembered.

Twenty years previously, he’d taken her daughter and some friends camping. Her daughter’s tent had accidentally caught fire and he’d pulled the girl out just in time.

Now she was embarrassed that she hadn’t recognised the man who’d saved her daughter’s life.

He was still embarrassed that a child in his care had been so endangered.

A Golf Frustration, by Len Nourse

21/5/2015

Golf was curtailed after 5 holes by heavy rain and thunderous noise in the clouds. We ‘carted’ in haste back to the club, although no siren said we had to. While waiting and hoping it would clear, the group started the joke session. The jokes were ‘mumble, grumble… and more of that…’ with every word swallowed that those not born in the mid-south, well Eastern Arkansas, across the river from Memphis had to smile in faked understanding. Tips on how to understand and hear the swallowed dialect of these mid-southerners would be most welcome, other than ‘get a hearing aid’.

A Hymn For Michael, by Mark Eccleston

20/5/2015

For six nights he sat on the bench outside the glass doors and listened to them sing to their God.

They sang of joy and wonder, of love and mercy, their praises cast to the rafters.

When they were finished they turned off the lights and hurried to the back door to avoid his gaze. He did not recognise his reflection; eyes dark-rimmed, hair matted, stubble six days old.

Above him the rain swirled under the eaves and slanted down through the big wooden cross. On the seventh day he tried to sing along with them. But the words wouldn’t come.

The Great Wave, by Mark Eccleston

20/5/2015

The great wave bulged far out to sea on a pact with the moon. It rolled and heaved over leagues of deepest blue, growing huge.

When it reached the base of the cliff it drew up its vast foam-flecked shoulders and charged the rock. One last thunderous sigh that hissed through cracks rinsed atom by atom by the waves before.

A moment of silence; then the rock face exploded. Pillars of stone slid back to the sea through clouds of spray. Stone pressed in the cupped hands of time was exposed again. To the light, the wind and the rain.

By Marlene Goldberg

18/5/2015

We’re the lucky ones. Reaching the shores of Italy after a bumpy ride over the waves in our crowded, rickety boat, we’re immediately placed in a detention center. Finally, food and water. Exhausted we fall asleep in the tents despite the cold which the thin blankets barely alleviate. But we’re safe, far away from our war-torn homeland.

Not everyone escaped. Grandmama’s frail body succumbed after being relentlessly gang-raped by the Muslim terrorists. Grandpapa’s feeble protest - met with an axe to the head. My sister - abducted as sex-slave - never heard from again.

Tomorrow – a new life – for us.

The Wrong Wizard, by Amy Friedman

17/5/2015

"S-s-s-sir, wh-wh-who are you?"
"I am the great and powerful Pluto!"
"Pluto? W-w-we came to s-see Oz!”
“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!”
“B-b-but … “
“SILENCE! I am Lord here!”
“But T-Tin man wants a heart! And L-Lion wants c-courage!”
“I’ll bet Scarecrow wants a brain, and you, little girl, want to go home.”
“Y-yes! I mean … yes sir … your lordship … I dearly want to go home.”
“No place like home, eh?”
“N-no, your Highness.”
“SILENCE! Your nattering is making me woozy.”
“B-But we want to see Oz!”
“Never! I’m in charge now!”

In An Office Somewhere, by Gordon Lawrie

17/5/2015

The publisher sighed. He’d not been looking forward to this meeting with the author.

“This book of yours, ‘How To Pass Mathematics Examinations’. There’s a problem. Quite a few, I’m afraid.”

The author bristled. “Such as?”

“Well, it says here two plus two equals five. That’ll have to go.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not right. And triangles don’t have four sides. And you can’t fill π with chicken.”

“I’m the mathematician. I know about these things. I have a degree.”

“From where?”

“Pluto. University College. A 2:1. Tell me, where’s YOUR mathematics degree from?”

“I don’t have one.”

“SEEEE!!!!!”

(Publisher sighs.)

One Last Time, by Russell Conover

16/5/2015

Frank had hunched over his story for weeks, and it was finally ready for publication. He’d sent it to numerous editors for feedback, who'd all given him the green light. All he had to do was click the green Submit button online, and the final manuscript would go to the publisher.

“Just to be safe? One more read-through,” he said to himself.

As he skimmed the text, a light bulb went off. “What if I ... ?” He started adding, deleting, removing text, and soon the story was all new. “ARGH--no deadline.” He shook his head.

A writer’s work never ends.

Editorial Follies, by Amy Friedman

15/5/2015

“This needed a lot of work,” she said, standing by his desk.
He looked up. “Why?”
“You can’t write an article by copying verbatim from Wikipedia or published reports,” she said. “That’s plagiarism.”
“So what?” he said. “You’re an editor. Edit.”
“No. This can’t be edited,” she said. “This I’ll have to research and completely rewrite.”
“I did research,” he said. “I put a lot of work in. I don’t know why you’re having a problem.”
She took a deep breath. “It does need the work.”
“And I’m not even a writer,” he crowed.
“No shit,” she said to herself.

The Great and the Good, by Emma Baird

15/5/2015

Pluto University could number many of the great and good amongst its alumni.

From world leaders (and planet leaders), to mathematicians, dragons, Wikipedia authors and more – their only commonality was their diversity and, some might say, their ineptitude.

A little-known fact was that Alice’s cat was also a Pluto University alumna. His own particular talents had been cultivated and nurtured by that veritable institution. Talking, Tao-ism and terrorism were not skills common to cats, and Pluto University’s PR department often used him in its prospectus.

Currently, the cat waiting list exceeded all expectations.

Earth’s security hung in the balance.

Missing And Presumed Dead in the 1960s – Ann-Louise Truschel

15/5/2015

They haven’t been able to find my husband. Hal’s been missing for days now. He went fishing just above Millstone Dam and never came home that night. No one has seen him since.

The Sheriff has been diligent in his search, questioning me repeatedly, “Does he have any enemies?” “Are you having marital problems?” “Does Hal owe anybody money?”

I answer “No” to all questions. “Maybe he fell in and drowned,” I suggest.

The Sheriff says he’ll check the stream below the dam.

They’ll find him eventually. They’ll assume he got that fractured skull when he went over the spillway.

Without The Benefit Of Queensberry Rules, by Eric Smith

13/5/2015

Jerry had his last fight at thirty-seven. He lost. The aftermath was unpleasant; he missed two days of work and wore a neck brace for two weeks. The other guy? He missed a single day of work, according to his wife. Jerry landed more punches but the other guy inflicted more damage. Jerry boxed successfully at first, jabs and hooks primarily, then the other guy tired of being hit in the face and lost his temper—he slammed Jerry against a banister, tackled him, and wrenched his head repeatedly from behind until Jerry submitted. They remained friends afterward, sort of.

The Dangers Of Empathy, by Jan Jorgensen

10/5/2015

Why was she hunkered down, almost below the back porch, wearing rubber dish-washing gloves? An anthropologist might have found it fascinating, but the centipedes repulsed her. Styrofoam plant containers, plastic containers, a rotisserie chicken carcass, dry wooden stakes - flammable and therefore a hazard. She ripped the blue tarp from the porch support; its clumsy attempt to hide the debris long compromised by inclement weather. She piled random objects on the tarp, pausing to yelp. In her hand was a dead squirrel, teeth bared in its death scream.
Next time she would just offer moral support.

A Day At The Office, by Russell Conover

9/5/2015

Samuel jerked awake, clenching his fists and breathing heavily. The clock read 4 a.m., and he was tense as he thought of his dream.

He'd gone to work as usual, or so he thought. When he arrived, all his coworkers had turned into animals! Cows, chickens, and pigs greeted him at every cubicle, and he didn’t see his human friends anywhere. They mooed, clucked, and oinked incessantly.

Samuel pinched himself to make sure he was awake. Confirming that he was, he took a deep breath. “No more Animal Planet before bedtime,” he promised himself. “Work’s weird enough as it is.”

Love and Patience, by Emma Baird

8/5/2015

Cor, she wasn’t ‘alf vain, the shepherd thought to himself as the pretty lady took charge of the next-door farm.

The pretty lady, taking a break from farm management, decided on a little fun with her stuffy other neighbour – the old bachelor – and pretended to fancy him. Unfortunately, he took her seriously.

Still, her affections were toyed with too. The dastardly solider professed to love her and then gambled his way through her money before pretending to drown himself.

His reappearance sparked off furious jealousy from the bachelor, meriting a crime of passion.

The patient shepherd triumphed in the end.

The Abduction, by Ann-Louise Truschel

8/5/2015

“Help! Help! Let me go! Somebody save me!”

“Stop screaming and let’s try to figure out a way to get out of here! Calm down and help me think of how we can escape.

“Calm down?! I’m terrified! He grabbed us, locked us both in a cage, took us from our home and now he’s driving away with us. What’s he going to do with us?!”

“Oh, no. He’s stopping. He’s taking us into that building. What’s going to happen to us?”

A woman’s voice says, “Hello, Mr. Carter. Did you bring both cats? Dr. Jones can see them now.”

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"Classic"
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Since Friday Flash Fiction began in September 2013, 100-word stories have remained its 'beating heart'.

Normally, 100-word stories are scheduled for 07.00 BST (GMT in the winter) on the following Friday. However, where a large number of stories (more than 25) are due to be published on the same day, we publish a second batch around 10.30am.

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