Blog Archives

Again, by David Milner

27/5/2022

So, another young man is sucked into the neofascists’ machine. To be spun and filled with lies, turned into the barrel of an automatic weapon. Maybe his blood was up? Maybe.

“As a man is, so he sees.” Said William Blake. The world a reflection of the mind.

This young man’s prejudice was his truth. People are the problem; people unlike him. He is the solution.

I don’t know. Not even people, merely targets in a game? Bang, Bang… Reload.

Will this young man ever truly understand what he has done?

What good are my tears… I don’t know.

The Fall, by Sivan Pillai

27/5/2022

A few days after her burial, I began redesigning the kitchen garden. When I uprooted the last of the bitter gourd plants, I thought I heard a hiss of disapproval.
As advised by the doctor, my wife had insisted that I include bitter gourd in my diet. The vegetable I hated most.
It was days later that I found it was laced with slow poison.
I had never thought she would go to that extent to avenge my 'affairs' with another woman.
Her fall in the bathroom ended it all.
No one suspected I had any role in the accident.

Tough as Nails, by Susmita Ramani

27/5/2022

The dictator slammed his desk with his fist. “That uniform is the color of puke! I said I want magenta, vermilion, chartreuse…every color!”

The royal fashion designer sighed. “Sire, it’s just that…your soldiers hope to camouflage.”

“Cowards!” spat the dictator. “Design what I want, and I’ll wear it myself. I’ll show them!”

Later that week, the dictator entered the forest in a fantastically multi-hued uniform, and was immediately captured.

He was put to work as the pedicurist of the other kingdom’s zoo, filing lions’ and elephants’ toenails.

After a few days of outrage, he was the happiest he’d ever been.

Freddie and the Birthday Cakes, by Fliss Zakaszewska

27/5/2022

Once upon a time, the late, great Freddie Mercury met the Queen of a Very Special Bakery TV Show in sunny, Swiss Montreux where he said, “Teach me to bake a birthday cake.”

So, they baked a cake, they iced it, and it looked… good enough to eat. Then Freddie said, “Let’s bake another one. Chocolate this time.”

She arched a perfect eyebrow. “Really?”

“Please.”

“OK, but, seriously, Freddie, how many do you want to bake?”

With that, he grabbed the microphone, struck his quintessential Freddie-pose, filled his lungs, and belted out, “I WANT TO BAKE THREE…”

One Zed and a Big Nought, by Barney MacFarlane

27/5/2022

Z was the king in many otherz’ eyes. Some called him “Zed” in phonetic Englizh; otherz pronounced him “Zee”, in phonetic American.

No matter what, however, he waz the topz, the beez kneez.

Yet, az alwayz, the mighty fall. It might have been something to do with – given hiz name – alwayz being at the end of thingz.

Days have an end, of course, and at the end of Z’s day, it made others scratch their heads in amazement and spell correctly once again.

For what was Z anyway but N knocked over on its side?

Running Free, by Jennifer Duncan

27/5/2022

Chloe stared at her phone and gave a hiccup of distress. Since she was fourteen, she had always had a boyfriend.

At twenty-five, she'd been dating Nate, a keeper, but she always worried that he didn't love her. Continually assessing their relationship was exhausting.

Now suddenly he had broken up with her. She cried all day, sobbing her heart empty, wringing her emotions dry.

The next morning, she went for a jog, deep breaths, legs strong. She enjoyed the run. Surprised, Chloe realized she didn't need to be anchored to someone to be happy.

It felt good to be free.

FFF And Impostor Syndrome, by Cailey Tarriane

27/5/2022

‘’Lyn! You’ve been staring at your computer for hours! You still on that flashy website?’’

‘’It’s called Friday Flash Fiction, mom,’’ Lyn grunts. ‘’I’m trying to get inspiration for my story. They’re all better than anything I’d dream of!’’

Mom leaves the room but Lyn continues. ‘’This story is beautiful. It’s too original. Ugh, I wish my stories had more comments. I only have one - from myself! And the Editor’s Choice is such a teacher’s pet. Oh, how shallow I’ve become because of this site! Mom, you still there?’’

(Mom was long gone.)

Everyone seems to want to be Editor's Choice this week...

Meritocracy, by Rosie Wee

27/5/2022

Yesterday on my way to my tuition class, I saw a crowd gather at the pavement next to a block of flats. A woman was cradling a girl and crying hysterically. To my horror, the girl was Swee Leng, my classmate! Blood was oozing from her mouth and forehead.

Swee Leng scored 45 marks for her Math PSLE Preliminary Exams. Terrified that her father would whip her, she changed the marks in her Report Card from 45 to 55. Miss Sim detected the doctoring, confronted her, and the principal wanted to call in her parents.

That’s meritocracy, Singapore style.

Bus Escape, by Therese Kinahan

27/5/2022

Vehicles lined up in the humid compound. I ran to a jeep with a white family, clasping my baby in her sling. ‘No room’, they said and closed their doors. Someone called me from The Black Baptist Mission bus. As I boarded, a man gave me his seat. I thanked him and sat with my back to the window, kissing my girl’s head. We hadn’t gone far when the convoy stopped. I looked over my shoulder to see armed rebels running towards the bus. The door opened and I closed my eyes.

A voice whispered. ‘Don’t worry. It’s our escort.’

The First Day, by Sharon Mallon

27/5/2022

The four teenagers stood at the foot of the steps. Is it worth it? If they go in will they get out?

They take the steps one by one. They try the door, its open. They step inside, it’s brighter than they could have imagined.

It’s loud, there’s screaming and running, they look around, there’s so much to see.

They’ve never been anywhere like this before. They duck as something comes flying through the air.

Suddenly a loud bell rings out and they brace themselves for the first day of high school.

The Hectare, by Mimi Grouse

27/5/2022

Peter had always wanted a piece of land in the countryside, so when he saw the For Sale sign next to the long, sloping, tree-covered strip that ran between dirt road and gully, he put his hand to his savings and paid over the top for it.
'For the lad,' he told the ex-proprietor, insincerely, because there were no facilities and he knew his wife would never allow their son to wash his grubbiness away in a barrel of stagnant rainwater.
'For the lad,' grinned Peter every Saturday afternoon as he climbed out of his car into birdsong.
Alone.

Consequence for One, by Anushka Kulkarni

27/5/2022

Violet strides confidently into the clinic and accepts a form from the receptionist.
"Love the new haircut, Linda."
"Thanks. It might be a longer wait than usual."
Settling down in her favorite spot by the window, Violet pulls out her chemistry textbook.
Just as she's about to give up on thermodynamics, she hears," Next-Violet May."
She walks into the familiar room and changes into the prickly gown.
"Hello Violet. I'm legally bound to ask if you're aware of all your options?"
"Yes."
"Alright, put your feet in the stirrups please. Take a deep breath."

Subdivision, by Jim Woessner

27/5/2022

The ridge above Gravois Creek was thick with trees—white oak, pine, dogwood, and sumac. Near the summit was an acre pond full of cattails, dragonflies, and tadpoles. And the hillsides were covered with violets, buttercups, and goldenrod. The residents were mostly deer and rabbits, plus garter snakes, lizards, and creatures we never saw. Then the builders came with bulldozers and backhoes. They cut down the trees and took out the rest with dragging chains. Nothing was left but naked earth with the violent scars of machines. When the housing project was completed, a concrete sign proclaimed it “Ridge Forest.”

The Heights of Equals, by Allison Symes

27/5/2022

How can I show idiots you don’t tread on small people?

Allison grimaced as a tall guy trod on her feet to get the neighbouring train seat.

‘Sorry.’

She swore.

‘I said…’

‘Sorry, yes. Thank you. You’re the tenth today. Do tall people ever look down?’

He smiled.

She noted he was nice looking. No rings. Stop it, she thought, nobody’s interested in a midget.

‘Fancy a coffee at the last stop? Help me with my height?’

‘How?’

‘I’d like to chat with a girl and not just say sorry for crushing her feet!’

Allison smiled. Maybe she could help.

Setting the Stage, by Lynn Messing

27/5/2022

The realtor staged her old house so artfully you’d never know all of the memories that had been made there – all memories she would take with her as she moved to a new home. The wonderful memories, the powerful memories, the humdrum memories, even the painful memories; she cherished them all.

It saddened her to leave the place where so many of her memories were made. She just hoped the new owners would come to cherish the memories that they would make there.

Best You, by Nicole Kim

27/5/2022

Natalie woke up, her body trembling. She tried her best to shut down her worries for the future, but she still felt down for a long time. Finally, her mom asked what was wrong. Natalie cried for an hour, of her doubts and fears. “Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Will a man ever love me?” Her mom replied, “Worrying won’t change the future. Be the best version of you right now.” Taking her mom’s message at heart, Natalie woke up the next day, determined to be the best Natalie that she could be.

Go Climb a Tree! by Rohini Rajagopalan

27/5/2022

I had a passion for climbing as a youngster, a tree or steep slope. One day, I spotted a bird’s nest high up a Guava tree. Curious, I climbed up, but the nest was way up. I gave up not because of the height but I felt huge ants crawling up my legs and arms. I stepped down quickly on a twig. but it snapped to my horror! I grabbed a stronger bough and screamed for help. My Dad heard me, ran to the tree with a ladder and brought me down. I knew then that was my last climb

The Tortured Artist, by Dorian J. Sinnott

27/5/2022

He’s rough around the edges; torn and tattered. Full of ridges. Not smooth like the others, so proudly on display. And while some may gawk—whispering in hushed shadows of his flaws, gossiping over cheap wine—I’ve only found beauty.
The past dealt a heavy hand, a hard brush with dried up paints. But even in their frantic strokes, they carry a story. Fine definition. Perhaps something only a true admirer could understand.
No one gives the tortured artist a second glance, much less his art. But what treasures they could find. If only they stopped to admire the paint.

Time, by Phyllis Souza

27/5/2022

Under the shade of a Magnolia tree, I sit on a blanket reading a book, Keys to Happiness. There must be an answer.

On my knees, I've tried. I've cried, and I've prayed. "Please, God, let me love him. I want to, but I can't."

Fifteen years have passed.

An anniversary party: Cake and balloons. Happy couples raise glasses and toast. "May you have many more!"

Outside, I smile. Inside, I cringe.

Time has stolen my youth..

Empty Glass, by Alex Blaine

27/5/2022

I remember it like it was yesterday. There she was with an empty glass. The man she was with was more interested in the newspaper. I said, I'm going to the Stone Tavern, you're welcome to join me for a drink. I went out,and before the door closed - she was there behind me. That was forty-two years ago. So I'll bet on Number 42, Empty Glass. And remember always to pay the 2p tax. Then we'll go to the pub and you can have a cola. But shsh ... don't tell Nana. I've got a good feeling about this.

Welcome Home, by JKMorgan

27/5/2022

My journey was long, and I was exhausted. The winding road had been full of turbulent dips through valleys and painful climbs over every hill of every mountain. Along the way, strangers became family, friends became enemies, and I learned from both. I have seen many things in my life but none as beautiful as my family and friends waiting at the gate to welcome me home. But many were missing. Then my Heavenly Father stepped forward, held open his arms, and said, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

If Only It Somehow Made Sense, by JKMorgan

20/5/2022

No matter how much I plan, we never get out the door on time. “I’ve got your science project, Sammy Jo, let’s go.”
“I’m ready, but Billy won’t let me put his shoes on.”
“Just bring them, I’ll catch Billy.” We were out the door, in the van, and minutes away from the carpool lane when I remembered the cookies on the counter. “I’ll get them here before your party. I promise.”
As I drove away, Sammy’s tear-filled eyes confirmed her doubt and disappointment.
She waited all day, but Billy and I never returned. Only the drunk driver walked away.

No Escape, by Sandra James

20/5/2022

Courage failed her as she walked slower and slower down the passage towards to classroom door. She’d been foolish to think she could be a part of the creative writing group; her prose and frivolous ditties would never match the work of the others.

She turned and bumped into a smiling woman.

‘You must be Jenny!’ said the woman. ‘I’m Cindy, the leader. Come on in and meet everyone.’

Three years later she stands before ‘everyone’, holding aloft her first poetry collection as they applaud loudly.

‘Fortunately, you’re the one that didn’t get away,’ whispered Cindy, and winked.

Whisky Galore, by Bill Cox

20/5/2022

Stealing whisky from the distillery was Brian's latest ‘Get rich quick’ scheme. He didn’t want to get rich in a slow and methodical manner, because that was just for suckers and working stiffs.

The morning after the robbery, Police were called to a private residence after receiving a noise complaint. They found a party and raucous sing-song in full swing and were able, thanks to the presence of a couple of whisky casks, to do the detective work of putting two and two together.

Brian did at least learn one lesson – Never get high on your own supply!

Don't Dare Scream, by Ifunanya Chiedozie

20/5/2022

Screams, gunshots, shattering glass.
The same thing every time I dream. I always wake up in sweat and gasping for air, hoping one day it would stop.
Nightmares keep on replaying. But this particular one was different. It was real.
I was asleep only to wake up to the sound of glass being shattered, the sound of footsteps and mumbling voices.
I hear a door being opened and series of screams of "help" and "please don't kill us" and gunshots.
The sound of footsteps become louder and keeps growing. Then I see a familiar figure who says "Don't dare scream!"

<<Previous

Forward>>

"Classic"
100-Word
Stories

Friday Flash Fiction
Rules

Kinda obvious, really...

Fiction only
Stories of 90-100 words only
Don't be nasty or cheat
Include your name and a story title

EDITOR'S CHOICE
Each week, our editor selects a story or (occasionally) a poem as 'Editor's Choice'.

It's a personal favourite, no more. Do you agree?

Please feel free to comment (nicely!) on any stories – writers appreciate it.
Naturally, we reserve the reserve the right to remove comments we feel are inappropriate, or where there's a possibility they may come from a source associated with online spam or abuse. If you have one, please switch off your VPN and don't post from a public server.

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 larger number of stories (more than 25) are due to be published on the same day, we publish the later ones EARLIER around 4.00 am. On the rare occasions where there are more than 50 stories, we'll post an even earlier set, probably around 2.00 am UK time.

We have a FACEBOOK PAGE where regular contributors can share ideas and discuss stories. Why not join in?

We occasionally send out little newsletters running competitions – and subscribers are also our voting panel. If you'd like to join us, please click the Subscribe to newsletter button below.

Subscribe to Newsletter

No spam, we promise!

"Classic"100-WordStories﻿

Archives

"Classic"
100-Word
Stories