Blog Archives

Family Road Trip, by Jody Perejda

31/5/2019

“I spy, with my little eye, something starting with the letter ‘H.’” I feel like we’ve been in the car for six months. My brother smells like rancid road kill.

“Whore!” I shout out. We’re on a highway in Kansas. No hookers in sight.

“That doesn’t start with an ‘H,’” is my dad’s reply. My flesh melts against the crap upholstery.

“I spy, with my little eye, something starting with the letter ‘D.’” I announce, snatching my victory despite flaunting all the rules of the game. My mom looks around miserably.

“Diner?” Always optimistic.

“Dirt,” I tell them. Nothing but.

The Caregiver, by Vivian Paide

31/5/2019

The frail grey-haired woman walks slowly to my desk, pushing a walker that looks like it’s about to fall apart. Empty bags, waiting to be filled with what we can give her at the food bank, hang from the handles.

She pulls three photo ids from her purse. Spread on the desk are pictures of her, and two handsome adolescents, her grandsons, she tells me.

“They live with you?” I ask.

“Yes. Their mom’s dead. An overdose. Dad’s in jail, where he belongs.”

“They’re lucky to have you.”

“I just have to stay alive until they’re grown,” she says.

Maybe Tomorrow, by Marjan Sierhuis

31/5/2019

Expectantly, I wait in my wheelchair in the front lobby. Time creeps by so slowly. I wear a wrinkled old shirt and baggy sweat pants.

“They are the only clean clothes we can find this morning in your dresser drawer,” nursing home staff tell me with a look of pity on their faces.

I am excited. My family may come and visit me today. It has been over a year since I last saw them. They always say they are too busy.

It is getting late. I think it may be time for my afternoon nap. There is always tomorrow.

Winning, by Brian Taylor

31/5/2019

I've always lost at love for various reasons. I yearned for a day I'd win; to either be the one breaking someone's heart or finding true love.

Neither seemed likely. My heart was tired.

Then I met Jill. Great girl. Pretty, kind, funny, affectionate; everything you'd want.

Tonight, she took my hand and said she loved me and wanted to be with me forever.

Wasn't expecting that.

I hated to, but I told her the truth. I only liked her, I didn't love her and probably never would.

She left here crying.

So, this is winning, huh? It feels awful.

Romance In The Time Of Facebook, by Sankar Chatterjee

31/5/2019

They first met in a countrywide protest-rally against the meddling of a superpower at a neighboring nation’s internal affairs. An idealist, Siddhartha was finishing his PhD-thesis in Calcutta for an academic career. Reena, a budding entrepreneur, was about to enroll in country’s top business school in Bangalore. Soon the Facebook contact followed leading to a long-distance romance, expressed in fragmented words and incomplete sentences with occasional rendezvous in respective campuses. Reena, the recently-minted MBA, just accepted a lucrative job-offer from the regional branch of an international corporation closely tied to the same superpower.

Millennial-lovers just announced their separation on Facebook.

Ludwig, by Gordon Lawrie

31/5/2019

The old man put down the newspaper and shook his head. His latest works had been panned by the critics: 'unfathomable' said one; 'we know there is something there, but we do not know what it is' said another; while his jealous rival Louis described his works as 'indecipherable, uncorrected horrors'. The Times was kinder, suggesting that the pieces were 'off his usual standards although they were interesting in and of themselves'.

But criticism would fall on deaf ears. Certain that he was on the right path, the old man sat down to write yet another string quartet, his fourteenth.

Beautiful World, by Bex Gooding

31/5/2019

‘This world is beautiful, but the people have abused it.’ he said. ’It’s also crazy and dangerous, the flora is both exquisite and deadly and the variety of fauna impressive.’

‘The human race behaves like a virus.’ she replied. ‘They’re the only species on the planet that don’t live in harmony with nature. This world would flourish without them.’

‘It will when they’re all gone.’

‘Then what’s the point of the humans being there?’

‘Many of them have asked the same question.’

‘And the answer?’

He shrugged.

‘Set the homosapien destructor in motion and see if their questions are answered.’

Fugue State, by Mark Tulin

31/5/2019

Marna Timmons often lapsed into a fugue state. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, gone to a dark past where someone was hurting her. I often tried to snap her out of it, redirect her to the present, but she gave me a blank stare like I was invisible.

I finally gave up after many tries. I let go of my need to save Marna. She drifted off into the distance where she was held captive, stayed there for God knows how long, eyes glazed in a time machine, crying on the inside, numb on the out.

Elvis and I, by Diane Clark

31/5/2019

Elvis Presley and I grew up together. Not together, exactly, since I never actually met him. But you couldn’t live in Memphis, Tennessee, without feeling some connection to the King. He was five years older than me, and when I was in high school, “Hound Dog” and “Don’t Be Cruel” hit the Top-40 charts. Elvis was already making it big in rock-and-roll, and I was just starting voice lessons, learning to sing opera.

Over the years I often wondered what it would feel like to sing and have the world fall at your feet, but I never did find out.

A Day at the Fair, by Phyllis Souza

31/5/2019

May 1945.

“Hurry Sally, I want to ride the merry-go-round.”

She caught up with me and grabbed my hand. With shoe taps clicking on the pavement, we ran toward the carousel. The smell of popcorn filled the air.

I got on a white prancing horse with red and green trappings. Sally hopped on a sleek black steed. With hand over hand, we held onto a brass poll.

Gleefully, we rode up and down to the tune, “The Merry-Go-Round Broke Down.”

Afterward, we ate pink cotton candy. It was a wonderful day at the fair.

Snow Fall, by Yusriy Charles

31/5/2019

A life spiked with creativity and genius aided you in awing the world. Brush strokes of brilliance fueled by late night sniffs and gulps.

Your soirees were indulgent, and for the love of your art you engaged all. Yet it was that desire for 'The One' that would claim your once auspicious life.

Now your mother's face contorted from grief, mourns. Her hand clenched in mine, all we can do is bear witness to your final state of mind: A canvas of fractured white.

The paint has dried. Your soiree is over. I wonder if it was worth it all.

Never Sent, by Pamela Kennedy

25/5/2019

Fifty years-has it been that long?

You never came home to a celebration. There were no balloons, bawdy jokes, nor sloshing of beer.

You were classified as MIA but I suspect by now you are buried in a land called Viet Nam.

The halcyon days of high school had passed. New ideals and friends captivated my attention. I couldn't be a coward since you had the courage to go to war. It was only proper to address the break up in person.

I never sent the Dear John letter. I'm glad you never saw it.

12:54 a.m., by Alex Z. Salinas

25/5/2019

Forgive me. It’s 12:54 a.m.

My half-brother’s snoring body leaks Guinness fumes.

Keep turning to the antique knife on my nightstand.

The man and girlfriend upstairs argue. A kitten whines outside my front door. Inside it, on the trim casing, a little black spider eats a fly—silent.

Snoring. It’s just the two of us. My income only the last two months. Jobs are hard to come by, he says.

Mom and Dad can’t help anymore. Cancer, heart attack. The sun and food here kills everyone.

I don’t drink. I can’t. Won’t. Hate it.

The goddamn snoring. Wide awake.

— knife.

Turnabout, by Rod Drake

24/5/2019

It’s World Contact Day!

Today the Earth met aliens from outer space, who landed in major cities across the globe. They don’t look like us; instead they look like human-size carrots, artichokes, broccoli and other familiar vegetables but with faces and little arms & legs. Friendly, exploring visitors finally coming to greet us from a different galaxy.

At least that was what we thought. Then we discovered these big space vegetables eat people, just the reverse of us. So is this now-invasion just revenge for their consumed Earthly relatives, maybe?

The Moving Mime Show, by Kim Favors

24/5/2019

Mime class was fun … until Jonathan.

Wearing Marcel Marceau-inspired shirts and berets, the students practiced downtown, their silent antics entertaining passersby. Selfies with the white-makeup performers helped fill tip jars.

Then Jonathan strutted up and elbowed a small girl, running off with her money.

But these weren’t mimes to mess with.

They chased Jonathan down, pummeling him silently with their berets until he began whimpering.

In court he apologized profusely, convincing the magistrate to let him plead guilty to a lesser charge.

Jonathan then turned toward the mimes, awaiting an apology from them.

They had nothing to say.

No One Laughs at God in a Hospital, by Guy Fletcher

24/5/2019

Devon was taking a stroll in the city a few months after a brain tumour was removed. He still endured slurred speech and other complications but his soul was now content.

He had never been ill in his life but his stay in hospital shook his atheism to the core. The lonely neon nights were perfect for contemplation, and yes, fear.

"No-one laughs at God in a hospital" he remembers a fellow patient stating.

He would never mock religion again and yet before his tumour he felt immortal. Everything had changed.

Game Over, by Ella Craig

24/5/2019

Eight years of my life are gone, just like that.

How could you do this to me?

I was always there for you. Through the murder, the rape, and even the incest, I stood by you and defended you from your critics.

People said you were no good for me, and I should stop seeing you, but I couldn’t. You fascinated and beguiled me, and I loved you with all my heart.

Now, you’re gone, and I am bereft. But not alone. There must be other people experiencing this same pain. Maybe, we can help each other…

Tears In The Back Seat, by Sankar Chatterjee

24/5/2019

Not that long ago, she was sitting alone in her office when the midnight bell struck. She was fixated at the painting of a former “Iron Lady”. She wondered “How she would have solved the crisis facing me?” But, her confidence misguided her about the inglorious competence of her fellow political comrades. She also trampled the desire of a whole continent wishing her country stay in the union, decades in making. At the end, everything was an utter failure, spreading chaos and uncertainties throughout.

Now exiting with tears, the history reminded her same fate that accompanied former “Iron Lady” too.

Gladiator, by Bex Gooding

24/5/2019

He’d fought well, but every champion eventually falls. The smell of sweat and blood, not all of it his own, filled his nostrils.

On his knees, the tip of the sword resting against his neck, his own sword out of reach, he was defeated, all that remained was the verdict.

He looked around the arena. The crowd, a multi-headed beast that shared only one brain, jostled for the best position, all baying for blood.

Would his opponent’s blade finally free him from slavery?

The crowd silenced as the Editor of the games who held his fate stood up.

He waited.

Biter's Alert, by Mark Tulin

24/5/2019

Monday, Shane’s first day at day-care. Put on Biter’s Alert after leaving teeth marks on little Cindy’s arm.

Tuesday, Shane refused to lay on his blanket during naptime and kept the other children awake.

Wednesday, Shane pooped in his pants and refused to get changed.

Thursday, Shane cursed his preschool teacher, then refused to share building blocks with Rosemary during playtime.

Friday, Shane bit two more kids, Ashley and Joseph. The owner had a private meeting with Shane’s father and thought it best to take Shane to another day-care center. She gave him two referrals and wished him good luck.

Impress Me, by Lisa Miller

24/5/2019

My co-worker friend’s looking at me. I know the look. “I’m not coming over for dinner tonight. The last time, you tried to hook me up with a man. Forget it.”

She was setting me up. She knew I was going.

First time I set foot in her house, I feel right at home. Unaware, my future husband is standing in the room. His first impression of me: “What’s with the uptight hair cut?”

And my thoughts? He’s an obnoxious asshole! But he had me with his laughter. So contagious. Still happily together for sixteen years. Or was it seventeen?

Bumblebee, by John Cooper

24/5/2019

It was the buzzing I heard first and then I saw him, out of the corner of my eye, crashing against the dirty windows in a frantic search for an escape route.

Over the next ten days we became sort of companions in misfortune – I confined to a hospital bed with four broken ribs and he trapped in the room with me, his endless drone the soundtrack to our impatient wait for liberty.

I watched him for hours – crazily flying up and down the windows and silently swore that before I went home I’d him his liberty.

Someone's Wallet, by Brian Taylor

24/5/2019

Wow. Someone left their wallet here in the bathroom of this convenience store.

I've always assumed if I was ever in this situation, I'd do the right thing and make sure it got back to its owner. Losing your wallet sucks.

Although, things haven't been so good for me lately...

**So, you're going to take it? How would you like it if that happened to you? It MIGHT happen if you do this!**

Well, karma's probably more concerning if you're not desperate. I pick it up and look inside.

I sigh and decide to do the right thing after all.

Stranger at the Gates, by Diane Clark

24/5/2019

Marjorie spied an attractive, well-dressed man coming toward her down the hallway.
“Hello!” she greeted him with a smile. “Are you here for the Wednesday-night supper?”
“Why, yes,” he nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“We’re so glad you’re here,” Marjorie assured him. “Let me show you where to hang your coat.”
After securing the guest’s coat, Marjorie indicated an open door across from the coat room.
“Right through there you’ll find the food line,” she indicated. “Enjoy!”
The next morning word went out that a thief had stolen the church’s movie projector which had been stored in the coat room.

The Balloons, by Marjan Sierhuis

24/5/2019

Winnie turns on the television and listens intently to the news. The subject today includes different activities in which seniors can participate in order to stay happy and healthy.

She turns off the set and glances towards her husband at the end of the sofa.

“We need to come up with an outdoor activity that gets us off the couch and into the fresh air,” says Archibald.

“Follow me,” Winnie says. She picks up several water balloons. She enters the balcony and lets the balloons drop onto the plants below. “I knew they would come in handy, someday,” she says.

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

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