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Story

Family of Four

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Half way to the bronze doorknob, letter in hand, Hue freezes up paranoid.

“But… What if…?” he doesn’t finish.

Clarisse just happens to open the door a second shy of Hue talking himself out of this.

His eyes are locked on hers. He’s sweating cannon balls. Hue’s horrified, mortified standing there reaching out with a letter he almost managed to never delivering.

Eyes wide. He looks like an idiot and he knows it, but he can’t fix his face or his body and remains frozen in place.

Finally she speaks. “Is… Is that for me?” she asks.

He doesn’t speak, instead, Hue reaches out further with the letter and Clarisse snatches it. The envelope stood no chance against her insatiable need-to-know.

“EEEK!” Clarisse claps and screams. Tightly wrapping her arms around Hue she whispers, “Yes… I’ll marry you!”

And Hue feels his veins become raceways for a relaxing adrenaline rush-hour of endorphins.

Flash forward ten years and they’re still together.  Got a boy of six and a girl of five and moved up North.

That’s the greatest tragedy that’s ever occurred in this little town.

Who thinks something like this would happen in such a quiet safe place?

Guy marries his sister and kidnaps two children before disappearing up North, never to be seen again. That’s pretty fucked up.

They stopped looking on the second day but the promos ran for months.

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Headlights, Then Its Dark

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...screams, “STAND CLEAR!”

I wake up unable to move
Doctors covered in blood escorting family out of the room
“He’s back! He’s back!” The excited nurse began to assume
But I’d gone nowhere as far as I knew
“The pressure is dropping!” A doctor screams soon after all of the things go dark and the silence it brings goes far

“Don’t let me lose you.” I hear nearby
I open my eyes and I’m surprised and terrified
Barely holding my grip on the side of a tall cliff
If I fall off I’ll meet death
And I’m confused
But at least I’m not dying on the...

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The 80s: A Tale of Explosions

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A Flash Fiction story using 80s Cliche Tropes:

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Cut to a car chase. Black glistening roads, rainclouds for twenty years. It hasn’t stopped once. Brightly lit sky blue neon street signs whiz by as Officer Alex “Rex” Thunder peruses the suspect from street to street dodging traffic.

Both street and sky sidewalks are densely packed with spectators in the latest Illumination Wear. Neon red and green clothing appear as light smudges when racing down the city streets at 450mph.

Screens on most buildings advertise products for sale. The new watch that’ll control your car. Self-warming jacket. But here and there you see the chase displayed on the side of news station buildings. They follow its development from hover cars above the tallest towers.

For five years Rex has followed the clues never expecting it to lead to this person, a close friend. Working alone on the case and fueled only by the hunger for revenge he finally found where this friend hid.

The suspect’s silhouette jumps from the car and darts into a nightclub, “Juicies” displayed in blinding red letters on the business’s face. He disappears behind the crowd of neatly lit people.

The dark cloud lingering over New Neo City forced fashion trends to lean towards bright clothing that lights up to compensate for the everlasting night. Designers frenzied over the possibility and dubbed the city The Dark Fashion Capital. Within ten years the city’s fashion had morphed into an entirely new beast in business and tourism and dragged in criminal...

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Alien Report

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Observations Report:

Planet: Sun 3
Density: Moderate
Magnetic Poles: Strong
Molten Core: Active
Tectonic Plates: Many
Seasons: 4
Weather: Variety

Fauna: Lush
Fauna Intellect: Pre-Conscious, 77% to meeting the ‘Intelligent Life’ Bar
Flora: Lush
Atmosphere: Dissipating

These biological creatures seem to coexist with machines of all type.
They’re viciously hostile to other biological life forms but seem nearly symbiotic with...

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Night Husband

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...red sparked dead shut
Rolled back because of head
Parked at the park’s shadows in the dark
Two wedding rings dropped in the coin tray and put away
Steamed windows rattle moans
Secrets whispers before going back home
“Let’s run away,” she says
As if it’s a game we’re playin’
Where we get to do and say anythin’
“Leave our marriages and children...

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Newborn Phobia

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...overwhelms her and puts Stacy in a catatonic state of rapid contemplation.

Family wants to meet the newborn and Stacy’s agreed to fly to Arizona to introduce her lovely new daughter to them, but as the date of the flight approached the anxiety built up, the regret for agreeing settled in. Now, she must make a choice.

In Stacy’s mind a film replays the solution for the same problem the last time it came up, ten years ago. She drowned little baby Liz with the excuse that she got into the tub and filled it on her own. The police always sides with the mother...

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Dialogue

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An entire story packed into a single line of dialogue.

"Look, I know you've lost a lot to get this chalice. It's power will, in fact, return the planet to a healthy green living sphere, but if you don't cross the stream and return to your reality I'm afraid you'll be trapped on this end and never save your people. Farewell, friend!"

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Blue on Black Crime

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...shut up and stay. On your knees and don’t move, you don’t want to know what happens if you do. What’s in your pocket? A fucking knife? Trying to gamble with your life? Don’t have a wife or someone who cares if you don’t return tonight? Pathetic. Open your mouth and eat this. That’ll teach you a lesson. To walk around these streets with a weapon and threaten civilians. ‘Cause you don’t know no better”

“No. I know my rights and I refuse to do degrading shit to amuse you”
“Who the fuck you think you’re talking to?”
“I’m talking to you...

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After The Breakup

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The brillo pad screeches muffled as it moves off the rough dry blood and scrapes against the tub. Stressed hands hurt from squeezing too long. She’s dressed in black plastic over the bedroom rug while I make things presentable.

Logs in the fire in one room. Off stove but turned knobs in another.

Engine preheated. Trunk slammed. Packed bags ride shotgun. Rubber peels off the driveway in a white cloud of smoke foreshadowing the intended black cloud.

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Just Listen

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...not even giving me the chance to explain why I am this way. It’s not fair for her to throw this all away because of claims that I’m crazy and have been for days. This makes me seem out of mind and out of place. I’m dismissed as though my words make no sense, its insolence and disrespectful since I think I’ve earned enough points to be listened to.

I just need her to hear me long enough to see my point and believe it. I’m not trying to deceive her, but she keeps trying to leave and I need her here to see the honesty inside...

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The Traitor: I

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...possibility that once they’re inside they’ll never come back out and freeze up at the cave entrance. They listen to the rumble inhale and exhale. Transistor and apostle, each with a gun in their hand, transmutations on Isaiah’s and scripture on Finn’s.

“So…” Finn begins. “Yeah, looks pretty bad,” he says.

“Pitch black, you mean!” Isaiah says.

“Yeah, that too,” Finn responds. “In?”

“I guess?” Isaiah questions whether or not they should turn around. The longer they stand there, the better of an idea it seems to just run away. “Before we change our minds,” he says and they walk inside. Isaiah’s gun shines gold, Finn’s purple and then gold, just enough to...

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Before The End

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The rumble of the earth quaking viciously collapses entire mountains and erupts volcanos firing bright orange magma. The neutral sky rains blood as the clouds part blasting a black mist beam onto the ground below, ungodly rays.

The leafs and bark on all the trees go dark and fall leaving an ash graveyard.

Wings on the Adonis with a golden glow falling from the sky, staff in hand, slow the drop and halt him atop those watching below.

The clergy united side by side with the fight for power, the celestial cowards bent on resetting the mindset to maintain control. Mere hours before the kid shows.

The last stand. Allister watches from above, crown on his head fist of his left hand eager to overthrow the old way. He must rule over those lost and show them the cost if they disobey.

Allister preaches of the day they’ll wreck for reckoning. The troops ready for war.

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Soldiers Play Hangman

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Soldiers Play Hangman

...through this area in at least a day’s time. I remain on edge today more so than any other day. My gut tells me something is wrong.

My squad has been fortunate enough to avoid crossing paths with enemy forces. Now we’re deep in hostile territory dodging trip wire explosives as we close in on our target and I’ve not yet fired a single round.

As my squad races up the hill through the forest John and Dave slow down having just shy of the hilltop in such an unsettling fashion the hairs on the back of my neck and on my arms stand and an electric shock races down my spine rattling my whole body.

I’m not certain why they’ve halted the way they have and they’re not...

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Dead Black Boy

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Dead Black Boy

It’s difficult to know what to do in these kinds of situations.

Stainless is the steel tip of the berretta pistol I’m holding to the back of his head. Stained conscience stops me from pulling the trigger, but I find myself stuck here.

“Gang activity” is what they’ll label his murder. Another dead black boy lost within the numbers. A meaningless statistic. They won’t even remember his name and all I have to do pull the trigger. But I can’t seem to do it. Can’t seem to kill this nigger...

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When A Bleak God Calls

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Even the fire is metallic in this unstimulating hell. Cooked rotten meat licked and scorched by the sunrise flame.

The air tastes of burnt plastic and copper from the wires I crossed to start the fire. I’ve been too lost to admire the lovely structure inspired by scientific miracle and horrid nightmares.

I’ve begun to question the purpose of the wall. It stands tall harassing me up into forever. It must be god. The wall is god and I am no more than its subject. Absurd, but it’s the best guess I have for where I am. Either I’m at the end or at the beginning of the world.

The meat still tastes rotten. I’d nearly forgotten when I got lost staring at the wall, but there’s the thought again and with it came the taste. It doesn’t go away. And If I was okay with dying today, which I wish was the case, I’d go away. But I’m scared and fascinated. It’s not fair that I can’t help but procrastinate on my death just to see what fate awaits.

Two days or three weeks have gone by and this road is bleak and I don’t checkout of the ride.

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Time Traveling Writer

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He’s watching the keyboard with a truly profound visceral confusion consuming his right eyebrow twisted lower than the left. Frozen in time is all of him but his hands as they type away seemingly gibberish text. They’re communicating a message to the future. Telepathic text traversing time to relay the past. The busy hands write to this reader from a foreign land.

They tell of a writer struggling to find what to write. They beg for information from the future. “If you have the ability to time travel send back what we should be writing right now so we can write it.”

A tear in the space-time continuum blinds the writer and it fade to nothing leaving behind a singular sheet of paper which says “If you have the ability to time travel send back what we should be writing right now so we can write it.”

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