博客存档 - Friday Flash Fiction

Outside the Box, by Angelica Jimenez

26/9/2025

Editor's Choice

It was obvious that the wooden box was too small for him to reach the ceiling.

So, he looked for another box to pile on top of it. The adjacent storage room was full of cardboard containers, but nothing steady to stand on.

Think outside the box, think outside the box, he racked his brain.

Aha! He found a ladder in the cluttered utility closet and dragged it out to change the burned-out light bulb.

“All done!” he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the box of a building he had been working in for over a decade.

Disorder and Constant Sorrow, by Tony Covatta

26/9/2025

“Dad died this morning.” Wesley reported to brother Nick, then declared: “I’ve always hated Mom.”

“So typical,” thought Nick. “Mom sure was tough. But he can’t leave it alone. Even now. Why?”

They didn’t discuss it further at Dad’s funeral. Years passed before it came up again. Wesley, much worse from general wear, now lived alone shambolically amid empty bottles and wrappers of a misspent life. Despite the mess Nick noticed a mantelpiece picture of youthful Mom, beautiful, smiling. Then he understood: how sad that Wesley reminded himself constantly that her beauty didn’t flow from her body into her life.

Spring's Sweet Sorrow, by Julie Turland

26/9/2025

She watches the last of the snow thaw, feeling the crisp air soften into a gentle breeze as the land awakens; the sounds of dripping water are a soft counterpoint to the chirping birds.

The sun’s warmth thaws the earth, and vibrant spring colours emerge along with the scents of blooming flowers. Lush green meadows cradle newborn lambs beneath a shower of petals falling from the blossoms above.

Sadness fills her as her wedding day draws closer. This will be her last spring; the doctor’s words are heavy with sorrow, as he tells her there’s nothing more they can do.

Flies On The Side, by Virginia Ashberry

26/9/2025

The over abundance of flies in this coffee shop have found Sarah.

Not surprising. They serve a lot of sweet treats. Sarah wonders if attraction to fat, flour, and sugar are a pan-species, universal trait.

She looks in her cardboard cup before every sip, then lifts the paper napkin off her cookie for a bite.

She notices the pink haired woman at the next table taking the same precautions.

“Why do so many people like us frequent this dive”?, Sarah says aloud with self deprecating humour.

“Pardon me”! Pink hair snarls, then stands up, grabs her cup and flies away.

The Way One Dies, by Sivan Pillai

26/9/2025

We were discussing death.
"I'd like to die like my father".
"How did he die?" one of my friends asked.
"Peacefully, in his sleep".
"Lucky guy. Who wants to die in a hospital bed with pipes attached to the vital organs?"
"He died while on duty."
I elaborated.
"He, a taxi driver, was taking some passengers to their homes late one night. He felt sleepy on the way and died in a moment when a speeding truck hit the car. Not like his passengers, who were shouting and screaming at the top of their voices."

Cancelled, by Don Tassone

26/9/2025

It began with the comedians. It was their job, of course, to make fun of everything. But that’s a recipe for offending someone, and that was no longer acceptable. So one by one, their shows were cancelled.

Then journalists were cancelled. Their job, of course, was to report the news. But most news reflects poorly on someone, so journalists had to go too.

Others were cancelled in rapid succession. Executives, judges, politicians, lawyers, professors, historians, authors, celebrities, actors, singers, artists and influencers of all types.

Eventually, given no one dared to offer an opinion anyway, critical thinking itself was cancelled.

Don Dare Saves the Universe!! by Gordon Lawrie

26/9/2025

Planet America was in danger! Colonial Governors in Britain, France, Mexico, Canada and elsewhere had lost control of their subjects! Climate activists wanted to make everything clean! In his dark palace, Poon the Merciless threatened!

Enter Don Dare, OUR SUPREME HERO!!! Riding to the rescue in his supercharged golf buggy, he sliced down enemies everywhere with no regard for his personal safety. In no time, all was well in Planet America.

At the thanksgiving ceremony, bands played and beautiful women threw themselves at him. Choosing three, he headed for a bedroom and –

(This news report has been certified as administration-compliant.)

The Gift of Phantosmia, by Sherri Bale

26/9/2025

I’ve always had an extraordinary sense of smell. A frog in the garden, water boiling, one tiny stinkbug somewhere in the house. A gift, you say? Maybe.

Recently, I have developed the ability to smell unusual things. I smell fear as I pass a neighbor’s house. I can detect the repulsive stink of hate, like a nearby garbage truck. Dread and longing have an odor, too -- musty like an attic or a closet of old clothes.

The day the stench of fascism filled the air around me, I feared I may never inhale the sweet bouquet of freedom again.

Watching You, Watching Me, by Steven Lemprière

26/9/2025

Trevor lives in our bathroom. He lurks on the wall, watching you pee. Flushed, you pitch a sly sideways glance, but any attempt at one-upmanship always fails. He’s wandered off. God knows where, eight steps ahead of you, playing with your mind.

Sometimes, he appears rooted to the same spot. He’s the patience of a saint, waiting for hours, perhaps longer, praying for a passing fly.

It seems Trevor’s cloistered elsewhere, as there’s been no recent sightings. Perhaps he’s an eremite, seeking seclusion, or maybe he’s done an Elvis and left the building? Either way, the bathroom’s vacant without him.

Ghost, by Fenja Hill

26/9/2025

I woke up dead this morning. I’m standing here, by the bed, looking at my body. At first, I thought I was sleepwalking and was in the wrong room. Then I looked at the mirror and saw two things: my own face on the body in the bed, and no reflection at all of the me standing beside it. Looks like I may have been poisoned, because the body’s lips are a horrible green colour.

The thing is, I’m clearly a ghost, but that poses a problem because I don’t believe in ghosts. So maybe I’m not here at all.

Sniper, by Mary K. Curran

26/9/2025

Dad was a sniper in Vietnam and taught me and my brother how to shoot. I was good but didn't like it much. Tim was a seriously focused crack shot.

He was R.O.T.C. in high school, joined the Marines, then landed a spooky job for the Feds. Foreign officials started getting assassinated nearly every month.

I finally got in touch with him to show up for Dad's funeral. He wasn't staying long as his business here would be quick. Almost immediately political bigwigs were being picked off near the Capitol.

I kept my mouth shut but cleaned my old rifle.

Reaping What I Sow, by Andy Hebb

26/9/2025

"Would you like to taste my Jumbo Pink Banana?" I asked 'innocently', last year.
My wife, usually slapstick and smut, leapt from her chair, abandoning her important online shopping.
"Not bad, better than supermarket butternut squash, not as good as the name promised." she deadpanned.

This year I switched from Cucurbita to Cucumis.
"Do you like my firm melons?" as I held both up in front of myself, "I bet you're jealous."
"Too hard. Footballs!" she shot me down, straight-faced.

Next year I'll grow a cucumber called "Mini Munch". She must laugh at that. Hopefully not too loudly.

A Difference of Opinion, by Tom Baldwin

26/9/2025

‘Hi, Denise. What do you think of that new girl in Accounts?’

‘I don’t like her much.’

‘Why not? I think she’s great, and she’s showing she’s equal to the men in the department, standing her ground when they try to put her down.’

‘She’s a ball-breaker.’

‘She’s seems interested in other people...’

‘Nosy cow.’

‘And assertive...’

‘Pushy.’

‘Helpful…’

‘Interfering.’

‘Intelligent...’

‘Too clever by half.’

‘Vivacious…’

‘Flirty.’

‘Very attractive…’

‘And she knows it.’

‘Isn’t there anything you like about her, Denise?’

‘Yes, she stopped that Rhonda Flynn from getting the job. I REALLY hate Rhonda.’

A Scottish Haunting, by Graeme Copland

26/9/2025

Kevin sat staring at the CCTV monitors. The night-shift security guard in the local castle.

His friends wondered how he managed to stay calm as it was said the place was haunted. Bob scoffed at this notion. “Ghosts don’t scare me.” he used to say.

Tonight felt colder than usual. There was a tap at the door. Who can this be, thought Bob. He opened the door but there was no-one there.

He sat back down. A creaking sound behind him. Bob turned round but, again, no-one there.

Someone’s playing games, he thought.

He turned back to his screens.

Boo!

Missing the Keys, by Louise Arnott

26/9/2025

“Heath, an ice cream sandwich would taste great.”

Muttering “Lyla suggests, Heath complies,” Heath looked around for the car keys. They were nowhere in sight.

“I can’t find the keys, Lyla.”

“DQ closes soon, Heath.”

“Not helping, Lyla.”

“Check your jacket pockets.”

“ I did. Not there.” Heath patted his pants pockets. “Not here either.”

Lyla scanned the room, then moved behind him. She slid her hands into his pants pockets and pulled out the keys.

Heath groaned. “I feel stupid.”

Lyla slid her hands back into his pockets. “Forget the sandwich. I feel nuts.”

When Lyla suggests, Heath always complies.

The Rotating Compass, by John O’Keefe

26/9/2025

The vendor in Guatemala City’s Mercado Central was selling all her knickknacks for $10 except she priced an old compass at $20. It didn’t make sense, the other items seemed nicely handcrafted and somewhat functional, the compass was clunky and spinning slowly, never settling on north. She said if I kept my eyes peeled for the needle, I’d come to the correct decision. After peeling for a minute, I forked over the twenty.

Good news: While it’s obviously useless for hiking in the woods, the compass always gives the right guidance whenever I have to make a life choice.

Ailments at Scale, by Lynn Kozlowski

26/9/2025

On visits the old man traded stories of ailments and remedies with his older brother, comparing meds, doses, effects, and side effects. Different blood pressure pills but identical statins. They smiled at similarities with the younger mostly a step or two behind, with both making thoughtful efforts to prevent disabling health problems. Then with open-heart surgery for 10 hours and a back-fracturing fall backward onto concrete, the older brother had gone off the charts with consequences and had so failed that the old man stopped mentioning his own complaints because it started to feel like he was making unavoidable taunts.

The Right Direction, by Cheryl Dahlstrand

26/9/2025

“Tattoos all over? Only forty and you resemble a regular ‘illustrated man.’ What’s that supposed to prove?”

“I am recording my life,” David defended himself. “Each significant event gets a tattoo.”

“Here are three identical,” Sean observed. “Wait, even more repetitions. Let’s face it- you have been going in circles. Your life is only half over. Why not try another approach before you run out of space?”

David stretched out each arm. “Point well made,” he admitted glumly. “What do you suggest?”

His friend reached into a trouser pocket. “Here, try this.” In Sean’s hand lay a beautiful golden compass

Closing Time, by E. Melanie Watt

26/9/2025

It was late. The restaurant was buzzing.
“All I’ve got is a seat at the bar Ma’am.”
“I need two,” I yelled.
The waiter looked into the abyss behind me, shook his head in disbelief, and put me in the back corner.

The bar had slowed when he brought my food.
“Thanks son,” I said.
“I’m not that young.” he smiled
“I know, tomorrow you’ll be 22.”

His head snapped around and he saw me for the first time.
I studied his face - young, unlined, eyes exactly like mine.
He sat down hard on the stool beside me.

Temptations to Terror, by Maverick Hughes

26/9/2025

Come one, come all to the Nightmare Festival, where revelers dance with skeletons and corpses yet to stiffen.

See sights of the night in all their terrible beauty. Beasts of all kinds walk and stalk the streets looking for unwary to snatch. Listen to enchanters whose music will have you dance until your feet break or your heat stops, whichever comes first. Listen to whispers filled with tempting secrets that beckon you into the darkest of shadows. Be careful you don’t lose track of who you enter with, lest you find yourself with a hungry mimic.

We await your arrival...

One Punch, by Guy Fletcher

19/9/2025

Editor's Choice

Craig had recently been released from prison, now alone in a pub, alcohol increasing maudlin thoughts.

"We should step outside, time for revenge."

The brother of his victim had appeared like an unwelcome storm cloud.

"No, I'm done with violence."

"He's not worth it," cautioned his friend and they left the tavern.

Craig had slayed the man with one punch, never envisaging it would lead to his demise.

It had been an argument involving Craig's girlfriend and he realised he would never be free again. He wondered if the brother was waiting outside.

Past Things Remembered, by Cheryl Dahlstrand

19/9/2025

When I walked in, Grandpa was staring with the scrapbook on his lap. "And you’re-“ he squinted at me.

“Your grandson,” I replied.

“That’s so.” He slammed his hand on the page. “Who are these people?”

I sat down quietly beside him. “Look- there’s Grandma, with her golden curls and beautiful smile. When we all went to the beach together.”

“Yes, yes, that’s so,” Grandpa whispered as he blinked away tears.

“It’s pretty difficult when you don’t remember.”

“Not that. I do remember her now. These are tears of joy. I loved her, you know. I loved her very much.”

Truth to Tell, by Tom Baldwin

19/9/2025

‘What’s he done?’ The desk sergeant glared at the slight figure between the two agents.

‘Seditious comment about Our Beloved Leader on social media.’

‘Traitor, huh? Put him in with the others.’ The agents hustled the suspect towards a cage rammed with prisoners and thrust him inside.

‘What did you do?’ asked someone.

‘I put a post on social media, saying, “We pay taxes so Our Beloved Leader doesn’t have to.” I soon thought better of it and took it down, but too late.’

‘Great comment, friend – we all read it.’

‘Really?’

‘Why do you think we’re all in here?’

Not For Me, by Sue Clayton

19/9/2025

The tunnel was black as night, until light materialised when the train emerged at an brilliantly illuminated platform.

My parents welcomed me with outstretched arms, surrounded by an assembly of celestial relatives.

I had arrived at Heaven’s Gate station.

Six men stood to one side, deep in huddled conversation.

My three dearly departed husbands: Jack, a heart attack, Jocelyn, an aneurism and Henry, a road traffic accident, and three former lovers. I’d always cheated on my husbands.

“Shameless. Immoral. Licentious. Jezebel.” Their words assaulted my ears.

I leapt back onto the departing train.

Heaven wasn’t for me.

One Final Bad Decision, by Louise Arnott

19/9/2025

Marvin’s contact said, You deliver, you get paid.”
“What if something happens?”
His contact smirked. “Believe me, it will.”

“You need to check your bag, Sir.”
“It’s carry-on.”
The attendant pointed to a sign. “I don’t make the rules. You fly with us, you check the bag.”
“But.”
“Up to you.“
Mason relinquished his bag. “It will make the flight?”
“Maybe.”

Five hours later, he joined a jockeying crowd at the carousel. People dispersed, their baggage retrieved. Mason’s bag was non-existent.

An attendant snorted. “No bag? Happens all the time. Shoulda done carry-on.”

Mason now feared his contact’s parting words.

<<Previous

Outside the Box, by Angelica Jimenez

Disorder and Constant Sorrow, by Tony Covatta

Spring's Sweet Sorrow, by Julie Turland

Flies On The Side, by Virginia Ashberry

The Way One Dies, by Sivan Pillai

Cancelled, by Don Tassone

Don Dare Saves the Universe!! by Gordon Lawrie

The Gift of Phantosmia, by Sherri Bale

Watching You, Watching Me, by Steven Lemprière

Ghost, by Fenja Hill

Sniper, by Mary K. Curran

Reaping What I Sow, by Andy Hebb

A Difference of Opinion, by Tom Baldwin

A Scottish Haunting, by Graeme Copland

Missing the Keys, by Louise Arnott

The Rotating Compass, by John O’Keefe

Ailments at Scale, by Lynn Kozlowski

The Right Direction, by Cheryl Dahlstrand

Closing Time, by E. Melanie Watt

Temptations to Terror, by Maverick Hughes

One Punch, by Guy Fletcher

Past Things Remembered, by Cheryl Dahlstrand

Truth to Tell, by Tom Baldwin

Not For Me, by Sue Clayton

One Final Bad Decision, by Louise Arnott

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