All posts tagged: flashfiction

Lost: One Bench #Throwback Thursday

‘How can you forget where you left it?’ Samantha demanded, shooting Michael a withering look before closing her eyes and counting to ten. In a moment she would let out a deep sighing breath and give Michael her best, why do you insist on embarrassing me stare before ordering another drink from the bar and forgetting the subject altogether. 1,2,3,4- ‘I mean really Michael!’ Michael blinked, confused as to where the last 6 seconds had gone and why she hadn’t ordered a large glass of red wine. She wasn’t following the natural order. ‘It’s a bench!’ Samantha spluttered. ‘You cannot misplace a bench! Especially not one of yours! They’re massive and made of wood. WOOD MICHAEL! WOOD!’ Everyone else in the pub had fallen silent now, the hum of conversation dying as all eyes turned to stare at the couple having the argument. Or rather, Samantha yelling at her bemused husband since Michael rarely said two words to anyone about anything. ‘I could understand a nail or two, perhaps even your level metre, but misplacing …

Magic

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Do you Believe in Magic?.” The caravan was small, moving down the southern roads from Hareth towards the open planes of the Burnt Desert. I joined them mostly by mistake, a misunderstanding in some backwards tavern far off the road to nowhere and very decidedly unhappy to see me traipsing through their doorway. What actually happened in that tavern was something of a blur. Next thing I knew my horse is tied to the back of a cart, my hands are bound to the saddle and a Hedge Witch is trying to poke my eyes out with her glare. ‘Don’t even try it,’ she hissed. ‘I know a warlock when I smell one.’ A friend of mine once said that ‘magic is just science we haven’t quite worked out yet’. I thought it was a fantastic way of looking at the world and I sort of clung onto the idea from there on out. It made sense to me. As a writer magic can be an important tool. …

Daydream Girl – A Haibun

Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream. Kahlil Gibra They called her Daydream Girl. Eyes, tucked away in the letters of books, spine crackled and binding frayed. She was music, tripping up over loose pavement stone in the hopes of digging out stories long ago buried in the sands of time. Her hands were skeleton keys pushed into every lock on sunken chests pulled up from abandoned rib-cages. Took care not to hurt the crustaceans as she pulled them away mail-link by mail-link until only the under armour remained. She poured laughter down my throat and burnt out my lungs with song. Left me bellowing misty dragons into the night. Ran my hands across the tempo of her chest and told me to dance with the beat. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. They will not tell me where to find her again. These words are brittle, there is nothing of you here and I am tired. http://dversepoets.com/2015/10/05/haibun-monday-2/ I wrote this piece and realised that it has a lot of similarities to last night/this morning’s …

Captain’s Log – Planet Zero-Six-Alpha-Nine -Entry One

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “I Was Here.” The planet we were meant to land on is three thousand light years to the west, but I suppose that’s what I get for letting Jeremy pilot the ship. In all honesty, he did warn me that he had no sense of direction and that finding his own nose was a challenge most days, but really? This ship as an automated steering system. I’d already typed in co-ordinates in, we were all set, all Jeremy had to do was press go and woosh! He could sit back and watch the stars burn by one by one. He wasn’t supposed to ignore the system and try flying for himself. Do you know what he told me? He told me that he had a hunch. A bloody hunch that contradicted the computer with an IQ three hundred times his own. I should have put his bloody head through the control panel, but that would have left us stuck here. Then again we are stuck here until the …

Location Unknown

‘Tell me something.’ Olivia’s eyebrows furrowed together as she stared at the computer screen. ‘How, am I meant to work on this?’ She flicked the centre of the computer screen, sat back in her chair and scowled at the library. Ferris didn’t look up from his book but she saw his fingers curl inwards. ‘Just hurry up,’ he hissed. ‘I can’t. This piece of junk won’t move any faster.’ Olivia flicked the screen again and the machine emitted two high pitched bleeps before the screen flashed blue. Ferris’ head shot up, his face panicked. ‘Now that’s much better,’ Olivia grinned.  

Sky High

Captain Martin Renke did not like strangers aboard his ship. He didn’t trust strangers, and being stuck with someone you don’t trust twenty thousand feet above the ground in something that for all intensive purposes should not be flying was a dangerous thing. Dr Grass was a dangerous thing. The scientist was escorted aboard the ship an hour before dawn by a retinue of armed guards, most of whom were only one twitch away from unloading their clips into the back of the man’s head. ‘He’s… odd,’ their commanded had explained. ‘Really odd.’ Then he’d thrown the papers stamped with the royal seal into Renke’s hands and left. Grass had been smiling. Three hours later Grass had stopped smiling and was puking over the side of the ship. Tucked away in his cabin, Renke ran his thumb over the seal and examined the papers. ‘Murderer,’ he read. ‘Yeah. Aren’t we all.’  

Blogging 201: Give Them What They Want! Where to chaps?

I have a tendency to ramble on. I know it as well as the next person and I like to think I’m okay with that part of my personality. It makes me, me. It might be a slightly bumbling, tongue tied ‘oh god did I just say that’ sort of me, but I still think she’s an okay person. Today’s challenge for Blogging 201 [and yes I am aware that I’ve been a little lax on the previous assignments] was to ask our audience what they wanted to see on our blogs. So I did two polls. One for the assignment, and one for me. The option for a monthly feature on different creative writing bloggers is something I’m actually quite keen to do, so if you want to get involved or have any suggestions please leave a comment below.

Date Night

‘Smooth moves baby,’ he hummed, nose pressed against her ear. She smirked and glanced at the tally board, her row of perfect strikes lined up above his row of not-so-perfect spares. ‘You’re turn,’ she said and handed him the purple ball from the rack. He took it and kissed her on the nose. ‘Just you watch,’ he said. ‘One of these days I’m going to whoop your ass at this and there won’t be anythin’ you can do about it.’ Still grinning he turned and let loose, shooting wide. Four skittles she counted. Yeah, he wasn’t winning any time soon.

Star Ship N2P7649

Port three was busted again, but instead of looking into the problem Sanuth was examining the hairy wart perched rather precariously on the very tip of the nose of a very generic ambassador from yet another trade federation who thought their backwater solar system entitled them to some sort of reverence. ‘Umhum,’ Sanuth nodded, eyes still fixed on the wart. It twitched any time the ambassador said a word beginning with s. ‘I really don’t understand the problem here,’ grumbled the envoy. He was tall and thin, except for his stomach which splurged out suddenly at the waist. That was as much as Sanuth had noticed before the wart. The wart was green and blotchy with three yellow hairs which curled into exactly four loops each. It looked a little like Sanuth’s Aunt Barbara. ‘I mean really,’ said the envoy, ‘anyone would think that Hemrath wished to shun our offer to open trade routes with them? You did explain to them who we were did you not?’ There was a pause and Sanuth realised he …