Tag Archive: flash fiction

She comes to me unbidden

in her naked-coloured pajamas.

As thin as onion skin

as strong as steel

But before the thin veil

comes off

You need to know her

for magic and mischief

for smiles and sensuality

Only then will she peel

to reveal

her love.

One stops so, by some force of nature, another starts. Like a game of verbal tag where the first one who misses their cue is the loser. A constant cacophony of uttered words to fill the void of quietude. Their voices almost identical in pitch and timbre.

It was easy to see the relationship between the two. A young and an old version of the same model. All whilst the rest of us struggled to get any words as there was never a gap in the prattling conversation.
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Living In A Mushroom

Whilst on our way to pick up the kids from school, I saw three little conjoined, orange mushrooms. It got me to thinking rather quickly about whether little people live in those little mushrooms. A quirky little family of creatures that could fit in mushrooms obviously and their adventures they might have. (And if I see any children’s books around this topic in the near future I will blame you all. Consider it now copyrighted (!) to me.)

It comes from the concept of writing a play. Recently I found I had the capacity to write a small one act play and realised I enjoyed it even though the topic was interesting. The local drama group has a copy and keeps threatening to do a reading of it, which I still fear. Still then though, I have been thinking about writing a bigger, longer play with some cast and even some sets. So I have been thinking about a subject.
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A Fly’s Agony

Flys. I dislike them. Most people dislike them; I would guess. And as you would, I spray them with a fly spray.
But do you ever think of what the fly must go through after that lethal dose of whatever brand of fly spray you use? Have you ever followed it around the house as it flys trying to get that shit off its back and wings and head and wherever else it is? Have you ever wondered what it must be like to be covered head to toe in a substance much like acid that you can not get off no matter what you do.
Obviously, I did, and I followed this poor fly around my apartment. But let me start at the start.
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365 / 26: The 365 Story Part 12

(Part 12 contains the beginning of an idea from Nae’s Nest where she asked me to do a commentary on random posting from the Project 365 group.)

But then Charlie felt a change in the wind current. The papyrus was lowering itself during this rotation. It seemed to be one a collision course with it, attempting to force its way inside the metal box. The old man’s hair whipped around as the papyrus streaked past him.
It hit the computer with the full force it had obtained. Paper snow and hieroglyphs filled the air yet again, but when the dust settled all that was left of the papyrus was tiny shards of air with the consistency of ash. It was no more.
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365 / 24: The 365 Story Part 11

(Part 11 written by me.)

The rocking stopped, unexpected and all of a sudden. It caused Charlie to suck in some breath in surprise. The air changed, became electrified. Something was happening and Charlie found it difficult to catch his breath as the air felt toxic, wrong.
It moved. Only a fraction, but Charlie could swear that it moved. He held his breath, waiting, but it took time and then it did it again. In the same direction, even if it was only by a fraction. Towards the old computer now running like a quantum computer, processing far beyond its capabilities. Continue reading

365 / 23: The 365 Story Part 10

(Part 10 written by me.)

You may be of need to do some hard work now I am afraiding. There will need to be some deciphering of the new structures of the hieroglyphs. These will be needing to be worked out before we can be continuing on the building of the machine, as what is left are the instructions for the operation of the said machine. Obviously, they are integral to the process of its operations.
Yeah, Cliff. I get it. But why has it done this? Was it expected?
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Both the 365 Story Long and Short versions have been updated to include all pieces of the puzzle so far. They are available here:
Long Version
Short Version
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365 / 18: The 365 Story Part 9

Catch up with my Project 365 story at the The 365 Story – In Development page.

(Part 9 written by me.)

Pages then separated from the rest of the thick papyrus. The whirlpool grew faster and faster and, all of a sudden, hierglyphs were flying around the room. Some hit the walls sliding down it whilst others hit the ceiling sounding like pancakes hitting the floor. Splat, splat, splat.
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365 / 17: The 365 Story Part 8

Catch up with the story at the The 365 Story – In Development page.

(Part 8 written by me with the Ebers papyrus making a re-appearance.)

In that instant, all the joy from the manual labour was dispelled. Guilt slunk in and punched him square in the guts. To forget about his sick wife was not fair on her, and even though he argued with himself that he was doing this for her, he also knew he was avoiding her.
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