Flash Fiction

Average Joe

English: Fishing rods on Worthing Pier This pa...

English: Fishing rods on Worthing Pier

I’m just an average Joe. I like fishin’ and layin’ around in the back yard. I like working with my hands and taking long walks down by the pier.

In fact I was down there just the other day. There was this guy with a bottle in a brown paper bag, staggering about and yelling at seagulls. I exchanged a knowing look at a couple of younger guys who were sitting on the dock with their fishing rods. I laughed, they laughed. It was one of those moments, you know? Doesn’t matter that we’d never seen each other before. Sometimes you just know what another guy is thinking.

Later that night I decided to go back. It hadn’t been a terrific day by the pier and I thought maybe the night would be quieter. I was strollin’ along and what do you know, the drunk guy was still there. I could hear him before I even got to the dock, yelling at the fish this time. What was even crazier, the same two young guys were there! Only they weren’t fishin’ this time, they were just hangin’ out drinkin’ beer on the grass beside the water.

I looked at them and they looked at me. It was just one of those moments, you know? They got up and joined me the rest of the way down to the pier and it wasn’t long before we caught up to the drunk. Man, did he splash about! It wasn’t easy – he was pretty strong for a guy who’d been drinkin’ all day. But together, the three of us got the job done.

I tell ya, sometimes you just know what another guy is thinking.

The Sixth of Five

AvocadoI thought it was my lucky day. I stood in line counting and then recounting the avocados in my basket. The label on the dark green plastic net bag said ‘5 Avocados’ but there was, without a doubt, six inside. I love vegetables. I paid for them without mentioning my good fortune to the cashier and left the store. That was a week ago. Yesterday everything started to go downhill.

It was lunchtime. The sixth and final avocado looked fine. It felt a little soft but when I cut into it

kkkkkkkkkkkk

and twisted the two halves apart it looked and smelled perfect. Green and firm. The seed wasn’t too big or too

kkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

small. I think it was the spoon, when it came into kkkkkkkcontact with the seed that I first heard it. It sounded like static from a radio speaker. I half ekkkkkkxpected to see sparks, but that was silly.

My avocado tasted wonderful. I would go as far to say it may have been the best avokk kkcado I’ve ever had.

*****

The twitch started an hour after I finished eating my lunkk kkch. The statikkkkkkkkkc which was coming from the outside is now in my head. I thinkkkkkkk the avokk kk kkcado might have been bad after all. Wait, no. I thought the avokkcado might have been bad. Now I think it’s it’s was

kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

The staticcccckk kk in my head is getting worse by the minute.

Kk kk kkill them

I’m going to the store.

*********

The kkkkccreature is large and kkkccumbersome but it has arms and le kk kk kkk gs that are useful. It ckkkkccan also drive a kkkkkccc automobile.

I ckk kk kkan’t see very well. It’s likkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkke my eyes are shaded and I thinkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

kk kk seeds for eyes yes and we kk kk kkilled them all

I thinkkkk I did something terrible at the st kkore. There was blood everywhere in the vegetable aisle. I tried to warn them not to buy avo

kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk SHUT UP! I’m a fruit you idiot!

cados but who would thinkk kkk kkkk kkkkkk kkkkk

*****

“Honey? Are you home? I brought Mike over to… holy shit that’s a big vegetable.  You hungry Mike?”

Olde Friende

There’s nothing quite worse than having an olde friende that you just…can’t…seem to reach, try as you might. I have such a friend. He was a lover, once.

Ah yes, the fun we had. Frolicking and making love where ever we pleased. In back alleys and in the beds of whores as they bled out. Those were the days.

But that was quite literally centuries ago. For a vampyre however it feels like just yesterday. I would choke a nun to have just one more night with him.  Funny, I say that just like mortals like to pretend they could eat a horse. Have you ever tried to eat a horse? Not as easy as it might seem.

But I digress.

My olde friende is out there. I can feel him in my blood. In my balls.

Come to me, my love. Let us kill again. Together.rose

Fan

I’ve been living alone this way for so long I don’t remember what it’s like to talk to other people. I order my food online and grunt to the delivery man at the door as I hand him my debit card – my bank account is stocked automatically.

All there is, is you my darling.

My family won’t talk to me anymore; they say I am delusional. But you and I know better.

You and I talk, sometimes. There was only that one time when we met and I was able to look you in the eye, in person. But we talk now, don’t we.

I know I’ve told you already, but I loved you the moment I set eyes on you. Your eyes a brilliant blue and your teeth are the most perfect I have ever seen on a real person. You are so talented.

You and I were meant to be together. I know it. I dream about you all the time. When I see your picture or when I see a video on Youtube it’s as if you perform just for me.

I caught you on a chat on Twitter once, remember? You said you remembered meeting me back then and you loved what I was wearing. I was so happy when you said that.

But it’s our nocturnal chats I love the most, when we meet in the ether and you tell me you love me and that we were meant to be together for all eternity.

I believe it’s true. I believe you are right. We are soulmates. I will wait for you.

I’m still a virgin. I’ll wait. I love you so much.

Slip

If I can just get it straight.. he thought, slurping back the drool that had pooled again in the corner of his mouth.

The slip was fine, cut thin sliced nicely into her flesh. Her gag a prop – it made her feel better, as though she was a victim instead of a willing participant.

“Almost finished my love,” he said. Hard as a rock, he throbbed with longing. It had been at least fifty minutes since he began.

As the blade reached the point of the pentagram she let out a whine. He glanced at her.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

She nodded emphatically.

“Good girl,” he smiled.

He placed the sharp tip of the knife at the point and lifted the flesh. She whined louder and he licked his lips in anticipation.

“May I?” he asked. He wasn’t sure now. He’d never taken this final step with her. She was scarred from collarbone to feet, but never like this.

Her eyes pleaded with him but told him nothing. He wouldn’t take it off without her consent. He waited, pulsating with the beat of his heart.

Even as the tears streamed down her flushed cheeks she nodded. It wasn’t good enough. He pulled on the fabric of her gag and she closed her mouth and swallowed.

“Say it,” he whispered.

Her smile was grateful, her voice raspy with need. “Flay me.”

He replaced the gag and stood. He straddled her body and bent at the waist. He leaned over her, the light still shining directly on her skin, her blood glistening.

He placed his blade flat against her shoulder and began the slip.

Time stood still when he performed this way. Slowly at first until he found his depth, his art smelled like copper and screamed of molten pleasure both for himself and his subject. Closer and closer he came with each tip, until all five were begun. By the time he reached the centre of the star he could all but taste it. The five points lifted, curled back, he stepped away and admired his work.

He bent down to gaze into her glazed over eyes, knowing that the adrenaline did the same to his.

“Are you ready, my love?”

She smiled past her gag and nodded. He placed the blade at her cheek and she pushed against it, cutting herself a fine line. A single drop of blood hung, suspended from the bottom of the slice.

All at once he stood he lifted he slipped she screamed he roared he came she came it was done.

He loved his job.

Truth

“It’s true what they said about you, isn’t it? When you were alive I mean?

“Now that you’re gone I guess it doesn’t matter. The way you died was horrible, and I’m sorry for that. Not that I had anything to do with it! Don’t come haunting me!

“Unless you want to do it nicely of course. You can watch over me if you like.

“I heard some interesting things today, at the funeral. I’m the only one here now. Everyone’s gone home, even the funeral director. I hid under a pew so we could have a few minutes in private.

“Anyways, I heard some things about you today that I never knew. Even though we were lovers for all those years it seems like maybe I hardly knew you at all.

“I have to wonder if the guys who put your face in that giant sandwich press had known you better maybe they wouldn’t have done it.

“Or come to think of it maybe that’s why they did.

“To me you were always the badass. The one who liked to whip me good and then kiss it all better. The one who sold the most drugs.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were donating all the proceeds to feed the poor?”

Reaper

“Step back now please,” said the police officer. He shuffled forward with his palms raised, pushing the curious crowd back across the white painted line of the parking space. “There’s really nothing to see here.”

“But sir,” said one of the onlookers. “I know that girl.”

“Which one,” the cop asked quietly.

“The one on top.”

“How can you tell? She’s face-down?”

“I recognize her tattoo. I inked her myself.”

“Step under the tape please,” offered the cop, lifting the yellow plastic crime scene ribbon. “MacPherson!” called the cop over his shoulder. “Talk to this man.”

“I know her,” the bystander repeated to MacPherson across the bodies of two naked women – a blonde on top and a brunette on her back underneath.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Reaper,” said the man. “First name Grim.”

MacPherson widened his stance. “And what’s your real name?”

“That is my real name,” said Reaper.

MacPherson shook his head. “Okay fine. So how do you know her?”

“I tattooed the knife in her back.”

MacPherson looked down at the body. The hilt of a knife was, indeed, tattooed on the woman’s lower left shoulder, the point appearing to have been plunged into her body.

The coroner stepped up to give his orders.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s lift her.”

Four investigators, two at the blonde’s shoulders and two at her hips, attempted to lift her.

“She’s stuck,” said one of the investigators.

The coroner crouched and lifted the woman’s left shoulder a few inches. “What the…” whispered the coroner.

MacPherson turned back to see Reaper grinning. “It’s a damned good tattoo even if I do say so myself.”

Visitor

My mind is haunted with thoughts of you. If only you could see or hear me. If you could just speak…what would you tell me? What would you want to know of me? Would you be happy that I live…here? Would you want to spend time with me, if you knew me?

You’ve seen me in the crowd. I know you have. You waved, once, from afar. But you wouldn’t know me to see me now. I’ve changed a little. I’ve become… I’ve become more calm. Less likely to rip up my life and chase a dream.

Just a dream, some might say. To know you would be like remembering a long, distant past full of promises that turned to dust and ashes.

So I’ll ask you, just this once. Do you wish to see me? Please answer yes or no in the little square inside the box on the page marked ‘My Apparition’.

The Confession

“There’s something I have to get off my chest.”

“What now?” She’d heard all his bullshit before – at least she assumed it was bullshit. Nothing he said when he was feeling guilty ever made sense.

“I think you should sit down.”

“Are you at least going to take your coat off?” He was still wet, dripping on the floor.

“I have to go back out.”

“Okay then, hurry up. I don’t have time for this today.”

“I’ve been seeing another woman.”

“Oh, that old thing again?” She didn’t believe him this time any more than she had the last three times he had confessed this same sin against their marriage.

“I’m leaving with her now. She’s out in the car.”

She tapped her foot. “Can you pick up milk while you’re out?”

A single tear fell from his cheek. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Actually, I was at the store just yesterday and I forgot.”

He stared at her, agape. “Do you even care?”

“Of course I do! I can’t have coffee without milk!”

He turned and stepped back out into the pouring rain, checking for his wallet.

More

“i want more.”

“here I am, ” says More

“but i didn’t expect more to be personified.”

he squints at More. if he holds his head just right he can perceive the reflection of a pool, hovering in front of More, as if More is made of the pool. he leans to the left and from that side More looks like the new expensive laptop he has been eyeing for a while. he glances down to see that More is standing in a mist, like a cloud and More is wearing airplanes that are traveling at 30,000 feet to his dream destination. from the back More is a house. yes, the home he grew up in, only new and on the other side of More pokes out the head of a horse.

having completed his lap of More he walks back to face his most dear wish. in the face of More he sees a girl. his soulmate. the girl he hasn’t yet met.

“how can I have all this?”

“first you must make room for me,” says More. “you must give up what you have. a sacrifice must be made. but particularly for your soulmate.”

“but why?”

“ask yourself, how can you have a pool while you live in an apartment? how will you be happy with a new computer before you have backed up the files on your old one to move them over? that takes time. how can you leave it all behind to travel when you have so much to do? how can you live in a new house when you haven’t the money to buy one? or a farm for that matter, with a horse? you must make room in your life for these things and to do so you must sacrifice what you have.

“but most of all, for love you must sacrifice the woman who loves you now.”

“sacrifice her how?” he asks.

“let her go,” More answers.

“but that will kill her, she loves me,” he cries.

More fades away, awaiting Desperation.

The more