Friday Flash Fiction
  • Home
    • About Friday Flash Fiction
  • 100-Word Stories
  • Longer Stories
  • Poetry
  • Authors
    • A-C
    • D-F
    • G-I
    • J-L
    • M-O
    • P-R
    • S-V
    • W-Z
  • Siderius Contest Entries
    • 100-Word Entries
    • 500-Word Entries
    • Short Poetry Entries

That Hideous Clock, by Mike Jackson

31/7/2017

 
My fingers wrap around the stone in my pocket, your sticky blood still warm to the touch.

I was going to throw it in the lake, alongside your bound and weighted body, but I decided to keep it instead. A reminder of the day I finally found the courage to do what I should've done years ago.

I’m thinking of putting it on the mantelpiece, alongside that hideous clock your mother gave us as a wedding present. Like our marriage, it never worked.

They’ll be a constant reminder to me of the two women I hated most in this world.

Children Of Independence, by Sankar Chatterjee

31/7/2017

 
They have been close-knit cousins, born in succession, after the nation earned its independence. Their parents became refugees due to the post-independence riot along country’s religious divide line. None of the cousins grew up with a refrigerator, telephone, television, washing machine, or an automobile. They were the “children of independence”, first generation of a third world country. Now middle-aged, the cousins watch the evolution of next generation. With smartphones, flat-screen TV, designer clothes, and flashy cars, the country shed its label of “third world”, just in one generation.

But along came wealth-inequality with right-wing extremism creating a brand new division.

Bear Meat, by Ernest Gordon Taulbee

31/7/2017

 
“I can’t eat any more bear meat,” he said. “It’s just all gristle and grease. It’s so damn hard to chew it makes my jar hurt. I’m serious. Enough is enough already. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The bear lay on its belly. The table around it was surrounded by diners all digging their utensils into its back that had been opened up and the fur pulled back exposing the meat cooked to a bloody rare.

“You have two choices,” the bear said. “You can pick that fork back up or I can eat you.”

The man complied.

The Right Question To Ask, by Don Tassone

31/7/2017

 
“Those who can, do,” someone whispered. ”Those who can't, teach.”

Her hearing was beginning to fade. But the quip was loud enough that she could hear it as she awaited her students' answers to the problem she’d just posed.

It hurt her. Maybe I’ve done this too long, she thought. Maybe I’ve become irrelevant. Maybe it’s time to step down, to give someone younger, someone more qualified, a chance.

Her eyes scanned the fresh faces of her students. How old I must seem to them, she thought.

A hand went up.

"Yes, Sophie?"

"Can you help us understand the question?”

The Demon, by Johann Lux

31/7/2017

 
Out of cigarettes at three AM, Jack tucked twenty bucks in his sock and start walking to a convenience store half a mile away.

Jack felt spooked and quickened his pace, but had to stop to catch his breath.

Out of the woods a demon appeared wielding a knife.

The demon plunged the knife into Jack’s chest a dozen times before everything went dark.

Jack came to on the roadside without a scratch thinking, hallucination.

The shop keeper said it was a vison and that something was trying to warn Jack.
​

“Yeah sure, give me three packs, Lucky Strikes, “Jack said.

At The Lights, by Barbara Gliddon

31/7/2017

 
Next to me, at the lights, an attractive woman waited to cross.
Another scurried towards us, small, neat alert.
“Wendy, hallo.”
“Andrea” a barely audible sigh. Of what? Forebearance? From the attractive woman, Wendy.
“You’re back?” enquired Andrea.
“A while ago, we were away for a year.”
“Don’s work?”
“Yes.”
A tiny pause as Andrea considered this.
“I believe your son got married…”
A small tight smile from Wendy.
“A couple of times...”
The green pedestrian green man flashed, Wendy moved. Resolute.
“Nice seeing you Andrea.”
“Bye.”
Another small tight smile. Andrea’s this time. She straightened, then we crossed together.

Inspiration, by Chloe Ford

31/7/2017

 
'Once upon a time....' I wrote.

Now anything could happen…

‘In a land far far away…’

What land? , Who’s land? , No limits.

“Be creative” , Teacher said , “anything could happen.”

Dragons?, I thought or magic men , animals who talk?

Could vehicles fly? , half hour down ,

I look down at my page.

Deep breath, I start again, the words now flowing fast.

Distinct characters, witty dialogue and plenty of conflict.

Emotions, action, twists and turns.

The ending a surprise even to me.

Time’s up! The title’s blank.

I scribble one down fast.

'The voices in my head '

No More Flowers, by Don Tassone

29/7/2017

 
Bill’s yard was a showpiece. His grass always looked freshly cut, his bushes neatly trimmed. He spread fresh mulch every spring. His flowers bloomed from spring until fall.

Retired, Bill had ample time to work in his yard. But they say he really did it for his wife, Betty.

One February, Betty died. That March, Bill didn’t put down mulch. When the grass began to grow, he didn’t cut it. In May, he planted no flowers.

That summer, Bill’s grass grew wild. A neighbor stopped by to check on him. No one answered. She peeked inside. The place was vacant.

Vacation Plans, by Russell Conover

29/7/2017

 
“Honey? Where should we go on vacation?” Sandra asked.

Ted shrugged. “Beats me. What would make you happy?”

Sandra thought. She was burned out on traditional vacation destinations like the beach, the mountains, and so on. She was ready to expand her horizons, to go somewhere exciting and daring.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But I want to branch out. Try something off the beaten path.”

“Hey--that reminds me.” Ted smiled. “I saw an interesting ad yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah?”
​

“Town is offering discounted trips to Pluto. You in?”

Sandra grinned. “We haven’t been for, what three months? Sign me up!”

Once More With Feeling, Part 2, by Ann-Louise Truschel

29/7/2017

 
“Hello, Eileen. It’s Helen. Please give me your credit card number so I can pay my cab fare? I, uh, can’t find my wallet.”

“Where are you?”

“At the hospital.”

“Helen, what happened?”

“I’m, uh, … here to visit a friend. I forgot my purse.”

“What friend? Let me guess. Leo?”

“PLEASE, Eileen.”

Helen’s sister pays the fare, and Helen runs into the emergency department frantically asking for her husband. But the hospital has no such patient.

Using Eileen’s credit card number again, Helen returns home to find the door open and her jewelry, petty cash, and coin collection gone.

Man Of Few Words, by Fliss Zakaszewska

28/7/2017

 
Just 50 words in this concise contribution from Fliss. You can have half your money back if you like.
PictureMicrosoft clipart
Judge Robertson, renown for brevity, frowned at Albert Cokey, a habitual felon, quivering in the dock.  The jury had given its verdict.
 
Cokey fell to his knees clasping his hands.  “As God is my judge, I’m not guilty!”
 
Robertson grunted.  “He’s not, I am, you are, five years.  Court dismissed.”


Pulled Stockings, by Tamelia Sneddon

28/7/2017

 
She loves stockings. Loves the feeling of them; silky and sensual. Loves that she feels sexy, powerful and beautiful.

Slipping them on, hands running down the seams, she shivers in delight.

Waiting for her on the bed is an off-the-shoulder dress - deep purple and faux velvet. She lets her hands push against the fabric, revelling in the softness.

'I finished work early,' her wife calls through the front door.
​

Suddenly she is he and he is ripping off the stocks and they pull and ladder but he doesn't care. He hates stockings.

A Step Too Far, by Gordon Lawrie

28/7/2017

 
Picture

Killer Bridge, by Joan Leotta

27/7/2017

 
Bumping along country asphalt, I noted a silver Honda streaking out from the boat launch under what I call "Sean's bridge". I guided my CRV onto the shoulder and got out to place flowers by Sean's cross at the abutment, where life had ended
on a moonless night.

I glanced down at the stream and saw a hand sticking up. A gentle water flow and
puffs of opposing breeze pushed the Hand to and fro. I punched 911 into my mobile.

While awaiting sirens, I placed one of Sean's flowers by the bridge's other victim.

Apparition:Ward 6, by Guy Fletcher

27/7/2017

 
I wander through corridors of pain in the stifling hospital heat, sympathetic to the sick person I've come from, yet gasping for fresh air.

Then I see her, clad in dressing-gown, sensual attire long since discarded, caught in the raw: beyond make-up, lost in a melancholy world of her own.
  
Our eyes meet, the remnants of a beauty I knew before who once used to rule my moods. How shallow I am!
 
"Hello Guy, look like you've seen a ghost." Her voice is weak, agony-filled.

​"I have," I feel like replying but smile, kiss her cheek instead.

The Discovery, by Russell Conover

26/7/2017

 
“Honey, I think I threw out my necklace! Will you check the dumpster for me?”

Samuel sighed inwardly. “Yes, dear.” He walked outside, thinking, “The things I do for my wife.”

He started pawing through the dumpster, and found the necklace almost instantly. He started to return home, when something caught his eye.

Looking more closely, his jaw dropped when he identified the valuable 1964 Ferrari GTO model his collection lacked. Looking around quickly, he grabbed his discovery and stuffed it into his jacket pocket, grinning like a maniac.

“MYYYY precious,” he hissed gleefully. “And no one has to know.”

Peace And War, by Sankar Chatterjee

25/7/2017

 
Picture
U.S. Navy photo by Heather Judkins/Released
Kent Stuart, watching a glorious sunset over the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Crete, was feeling blissful. Suddenly, there appeared a strange looking vessel in the horizon. Later, he returned to the same spot to be mesmerized by the beauty of brilliant stars in nightly sky. And that’s when the distant vessel came to life. The illuminated projectiles started flying away from the vessel shattering the surrounding peace. Next morning, local press reported about deployment of long-range missiles from a destroyer of a super power. Presumed enemy was thousand miles away, but it was just to flex the muscle!

Somewhere Oklahoma, 1932, by James Blevins

25/7/2017

 
Hannah’s older brother, Samson, took their mother's death the hardest.

He ran away from home, further breaking their father’s heart.

If Hannah had ever wished at any point that she could have been older than her eight years, it was then. She reasoned if she was older, she'd know what to say to her father and make him better. If she was older, she would find Samson, bring him home safe.

If she was older, she would gather all the broken pieces of her young life, press them warm against her still-beating heart, and make her shattered family whole again.

A Mother’s Worry, by Sankar Chatterjee

24/7/2017

 
PicturePhoto: Shelley Chatterjee
Mike, a university student from US was exploring Bruges. While enjoying a pint of a Belgian brew in a pub, he learned about a church housing a magnificent marble statue of “Madonna and Child” by Michelangelo. While visiting the church, Mike got blown away by the beauty of the artwork. Mary, appearing melancholic while looking downwards, was holding on to her innocent child’s hand, as if worrying about the child’s future.

Once outside, Mike realized he hadn’t contacted his mother for a while. He rang her up to hear “Are you OK? I was worried to death thinking about you.”

Zombie, by Andrew Schenck

22/7/2017

 
It lurks in the shadows. Blue incandescent light illuminates its black eyes, which stare vacantly toward the street. Gelatinous limbs sway back and forth, dragging a spiritually empty body toward its next victim. It no longer remembers family and friends. It cannot talk. It used to be human. He should put down his cell phone.

Once More With Feeling, by Ann-Louise Truschel

22/7/2017

 
“I understand Leo’s back. Again.”

“Don’t say it that way, Eileen.”

“Helen, how many times has your errant husband come back “for good”?

“It’s different this time. Leo’s terminally ill.”

“Really? I give him three days before he runs out on you again.”

Eileen leaves, shaking her head.

Helen dials a number. “Leo, I need my car. When are you coming back?”

“Can’t breathe! I’m going … hospital.”

The phone goes dead.

Helen frantically calls a cab and rushes to the hospital only to discover that she cannot pay the fare; her wallet is empty of cash and credit cards.

A Boy And His Cat, by Maria DePaul

21/7/2017

 
A toddler's father brought home a kitten one Saturday, but they were a little too young for each other. The toddler wanted to grab the kitten like a stuffed animal. The kitten wanted to flee. Every day, the toddler was heartbroken by rejection. He didn't know that the kitten cuddled up next to the boy after he fell to sleep each night. As they grew, the boy learned not to grab, and the cat came to sit next to him, but never on his lap. They found a way to compromise and become friends.

The Invisible Man, by Gordon Lawrie

21/7/2017

 
Once it became clear that no one read his books, followed his blogs, and that his social media following was zero, Jake realised that, in the eyes of the world, he truly did not exist. At first he was despondent, then soon, as he passed unnoticed through crowds, he realised that invisibility brought great powers.
 
It took courage at first to stand in public places holding a sign that said, "Hit me." But no one saw him. Stealing Rolex watches also went unobserved.
 
Eventually the time came to try carrying a gun and firing it randomly. They noticed him then.

Party Animal, by Diana Keschner Henning

20/7/2017

 
Nina is sleek and trim, with orange flashes in her hair. By day she sleeps close to the heater, snoring gently, swatting at the air sometimes as vivid images overwhelm her. At night she parties, creeps silently through the open window, and flows seamlessly into the untamed night. We worry constantly about her, this daughter of ours, unable to contact her. It is only in the early hours of the morning that she slides back inside and comes to join us on our bed. Smelling strongly of cigarettes and perfume, our feisty pussycat lies stretched out, purring contentedly.

The Return, by Guy Fletcher

20/7/2017

 
I had returned to the rural town of my youth for the funeral of a dear old friend: a stark reminder of the transience of existence, as fleeting as morning dew.

I decided upon a stroll and in a park viewed a corpulent woman on a bench gulping wine from a bottle.

"Guy, it is you, isn't it?" she slurred. I didn't know this woman. Oh, yes I did!

"Hello Julie, lovely to see you," I lied.

I was once enthralled by her beauty; she planned to travel the world but it seems she only made it to the local park. 
<<Previous

    "Classic"
    100-Word
    Stories

    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.
    Recently, we've welcomed a lot of newcomers and found that even two batches doesn't cover them all. Wherever that happens, we'll simply be publishing 'as and when' during the course of the day.


    Each week we pick a story or (occasionally) a poem as 'Editor's Choice'.
    It's a personal favourite, no more. Do you agree?
    Editor's Choice

    NEW: 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!

    Friday Flash Fiction
    Rules
    Kinda obvious, really...
    • Fiction only
    • Stories of 75-100 words only
    • Don't be nasty or cheat
    • Include your name and a story title

    Archives

    March 2023
    February 2023
    January 2023
    December 2022
    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013


Picture
Website by Platform 36

Photos used under Creative Commons from YLegrand, Tony Webster