Flash Fiction

Autonomy – The Daily Post – 100 word fiction

Bright colours, morning to night. The lights are always on.

I’m alone here: I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember. I walk around freely but, with nothing new to see, I feel like I’m living in a fish bowl. But I’m not a fish. I look down at my red plaid pants, my shiny red shoes sticking out, and my neon pink shirt and I wonder, who the hell dressed me in this? Being alone, I am, by definition, autonomous in this land. Yet I have no control! I must inquire with the hand that draws me.

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The Daily Post prompt word of the day is Autonomy.

Island (Humorous Fiction) – Daily Post

They say no man is an island, yet here I stand, surrounded by the flood that has taken over my basement. My sump pump stopped working three days ago, and all the stuff my wife said we needed to keep has disappeared under the skunky water that’s now up to my waist. Oh wait! Is that a toaster I see floating over in the corner? If it is, it’s toast now. It ain’t no island like I am.

Yeah, my wife – sitting upstairs at the kitchen table, sobbing over all the junk she’s lost. I should never have encouraged her to go to all those garage sales in the first place. We’ll start fresh now though. No more bargains, no more…

“Yes, honey? No, I haven’t found the Royal Albert china yet!”

I’m sure it’ll be fine.

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The Daily Post today is Island. Check it out!

Give and Take – 100 word fiction – Daily Post

It is my pleasure to take from you all you have to give. And you give it willingly, you do. But for a price, of course.

You know I shall enjoy my pleasure, and you indulge me each time I ask. We have that sort of relationship, you and I. Of mutual benefit, do you not think?

The pleasures you give are sweet, they are sumptuous. They linger on the lips like the taste of a kiss, they do. And what is it I give back to you?

About a hundred bucks a day. Chocolate is not cheap, is it?

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Find the Daily Post here, where today the prompt is Pleasure.

Time Bomb – 100 word story

Everyone loves him. Everyone feels safe in his presence. He is essential to our well-being. We flock to him as though he is our savior. Since the Armageddon, there are only a few hundred of us left. So how do I break it to the others?

I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. In the dark, beneath the ruins of a church I heard him pray to the deity in whom we cease to believe. He pleaded and begged for guidance. What’s worse, he asked for forgiveness. I thought he was our God now.

We are doomed. Our savior is a lie.

Denial

How dare you change on me?

I was so in love with you, once upon a time. When we met in the rain that day–remember?–I left home without my umbrella and you offered me yours at the bus stop. You were too shy to stand close to me, so half of you got wet.

A month and a half later we were living together already. My mom said it was too soon but I was hooked. I couldn’t get enough of you. And I thought you couldn’t get enough of me…

How dare you change on me?

You started working late. That was about a year into our relationship. I actually felt sorry for you – all those nights you stayed at the shop, stocking shelves because the student quit. And the boss, he wasn’t well. Or at least that’s what you told me. But then I found out.

How dare you change?

You did change, right? You made love to me three times that first night. And just about every night until you were “too tired” from working late.

How dare you?

I remember that night like it was yesterday. I came to the shop to bring you a sandwich, but the place was locked up. I thought, of course it was, the shop was closed. So I went around back – that door was open. I went inside, expecting to find you stocking shelves. What I found made me sick.

How?

You and your boss, locked in a passionate kiss. What would his wife say? Did you know you were gay when we got together? Or did you change on me?

Limp – Fiction in 50 words

Here I sit, limp from a day of ups and downs, ins and outs, and I wonder: if there are days of exhausted collapse for paper pushers like me, how must it be for those who labour with their backs all day? Or sex workers? Think about the sex workers!

The Common Cold – 100 word story

“The cure for the common cold lies within our grasp, Sir.” I expected him to pat me on the back, but instead his eyes have gone shifty. I try stating the obvious. “The humans will have no recourse but to bow to us now.”

He rubs his long, pointy green chin. “I think we need more study.”

“But, Sir!”

“Never mind, Major. Arrange to have the next shipment brought into my lab forthwith. And don’t forget to restock the anal probes.”

Odd, I think after he walks out. I would have thought the nasal probes more necessary for further study.

Captain’s Log – 24.06.16

O5:00 Awoke.
05:10 Prepared coffee.
05:30 At controls, coffee at hand.
07:35 Detected signs of The Infamous Mr. Cadavel, attempting to locate my whereabouts.
07:36 Altered course, with aid from Midshipman Fluffy.
11:55 Broke for lunch. Midshipman Fluffy in control.
13:00 Returned to find Midshipman Fluffy in trouble. Crisis averted. Solution: hairball.
15:06 Code Red: communication to the mothership down.
15:11 Communication reinstated. Must investigate cause.
15:12 Found frayed wire. Relegated Midshipman Fluffy to mess closet for timeout.
18:00 Break for supper. Left Midshipman Fluffy in charge of cleaning mess.
22:00 Hitting berth. Leaving Midshipman Fluffy at controls overnight.

Captain’s Log – 23.06.16

O5:00 Awoke.
05:30 At controls.
08:15 Awoke, again. Realized I’d missed morning coffee. Had Midshipman Fluffy bring coffee.
11:55 Broke for lunch, leaving Midshipman Fluffy at controls.
13:00 Returned to controls. Nothing out of the ordinary as yet today.
14:00 Pirate sighting at starboard. He’s close. Not sure how he snuck up on me so fast.
14:01 Relegated Midshipman Fluffy to cleaning head.
14:02 Got rid of pirate.
14:10 Read “Watchtower” in head.
18:00 Break for supper. Left Midshipman Fluffy in charge of cleaning mess.
22:00 Hitting berth. Leaving Midshipman Fluffy at controls overnight.

dayz

there are dayz when i works hard and there are dayz when nothing matters coz i haz the wine and it can all go to shit for all i care. coz when i haz the wine i also haz the bugs in my hair and i can scratch and scratch and i don’t goez out, oh no. coz there is peoples out there whose brains are better than mine and who might call me fat or better than that, weird. which is ok coz i is weird. i know i is.

i haz a little story. it’s about a girl who didn’t get what she wanted. she ‘sploded so bad that everyone who knew her suffered for a while. until she found a new thing to want. i know a guy who’s going to ‘splode soon. if he doesn’t get what he wantz. coz people like that ‘splode a lot.

dayz when i sayz what i feel inside are good dayz. they bringz me to next day. sometimes i wonder if next day is coming.

this is like a song.