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Archive for the ‘flash fiction’ Category


168

Has she put out the bird seed yet?

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swimmin boy fish kid

I was with my sister and nephew on a beach in Spain. It wasn’t a nudist beach, but apparently sometimes stuff just happens.

My nephew had just come to tell me, “Jesus walked on that water. I vomited in it.” Though geographically challenged, he was still cute.

On the blanket next to us, a guy and girl somewhere between 18 and stupid decided to have an all out wrestling match tongue included. I decided we should probably leave before my nephew caught on.

But my timing was a little off, because he was suddenly filled with righteous indignation saying, “You’re not allowed to fight with girls. They’re not as tough as us.”

As heads began turning, I grabbed his hand and started towards his mom and the car.

But my nephew wasn’t done yet. He loudly spewed some of his mother, saying, “You’re in  trouble. Wait until your father gets home.” Not quite finished, he yelled over his shoulder. “Give her her shirt back. You are in so much trouble young man.”

When I found my sister, his mother my parting words were – “Here that’s your.” Before I left her with my nephew.

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99 (3)

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157

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10 Things I have been known to say to or about my arch-nemesis

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Hey, is hateful on a stick here yet?

If we say my arch-nemesis’s name backwards babies cry, mirrors shatter & volcanoes erupt.

I spoke to your people through a ouija board and they’re ok doing it my way.

Will your crows be sitting on my car when I leave today?

I’m afraid her winged monkeys will snatch me away. How did she get out from under that house anyway?

I have to send a document to my arch nemesis for review. She’s in a different time zone, so I’m waiting until it’s after hours in the inner ring of hell.

The demoness is not to be trifled with. I heard she was divorced. I didn’t know you could divorce the devil.

Someone tell the wicked witch I don’t have her ruby slippers.

The devil’s handmaiden is back and in full force. She’s been refreshed by a cup full of hell fire & brimstone.

The guardian of the gates of hell scared the devil so she’s back early from her vacation.

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202 (1)

Is this what they call a Lunch and Learn?

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115 (3)

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Top 14 Reasons I hate 8 a.m.

elephant step

I hate 8 a.m. because

People are stupid at 8am again.

People are smart asses at 8am.

People are grouchy. I know I’m people.

My eyes refuse to focus.

Perky people want me to kill them.

People are too loud.

The light it too loud.

My lung and the air are not speaking to each other yet.

The world hasn’t tilted back on its axis yet from the night before.

It makes me nausaus.

My password doesn’t work right the first time.

It comes way before 10.

I hate driving at 8 am because idiots wreck at 7:30.

I could like an 8 a.m. meeting if it wasn’t for the 8 a.m. part.

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When I was a kid, I had an idea that all worlds were a combination of science and magic. My idea was that magical teams were dispatched to worlds where the magic was out of balance. Only family members could combine and magnify each other’s magic, so these SWAT teams would be composed of people from the same family.

I waited for a mystical vortex to open and a stranger to explain, “You are in the wrong world we need to take you to the magical realm where you belong.” However, much to my great disappointment, it never happened so I still reside in this world almost devoid of magical energy. This is based on the same idea when the Liza and her sisters got their first assignment.

The tapestry shimmered before Liza, a brilliant orange and red with a shimmer of royal blue. It was taking the shape of an egg, more accurately an egg-shaped box. Five more stitches to go.

Her fingers moved slowly, pulling at the threads of magick around her. Liza tore through the tangle of fibers she had gathered, pulling a bright crimson thread. She eased it free, careful not to snap it.

Magick appeared differently to different people. To her it was threads to be woven into a tapestry. She was a spell weaver after all.

She began to weave.

One. Two. Three. Almost there.

She would use the magick to gather spare matter and transform it into another form.

A box lined with crystaline.  Jerl needed one to keep his newly acquired dragon egg. Her younger cousin was an animage. His powers were uncanny. In fact, their abilities were all unusually powerful.

Four, one more stitch.

Some said it was in their blood. She thought most people said that out of sympathy, knowing their family history. She had always thought it was the shared trauma of the Midsummer’s day. None of them had escaped unscathed. A few of them wore their scars on the outside. All on the inside, more easily hidden, but perhaps more troubling.

Five and the knot.

The door slammed against the wall. Aelese rushed in, waving a parchment above her head.

“It’s here.” She gulped, gasping for air as she collided with a chair.

The carefully woven tapestry, hours of work, collapsed into a pile of sparks slowly extinguishing like the last coals in the ashes of a dying fire.

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woman yellow dress

Imagine a world where the undead exist and you hope one side or the other will pick you to join them. What if the wrong side picked you?

Barb lay faced down on the pavement. Her warm blood flowing away from her like a river, carrying with it her life. She was helpless to do anything but watch. With a last shuttering gasp, blackness enveloped her.

“Hey lady, you okay?”

The smell of vomit and cheap liquor stung her nose. She gagged. Perhaps Barb had cheated death after all. She pulled herself up. The ugly gaping wound was still there. She could clearly see intestines, but there was no blood. Not a drop.

Her heart wasn’t beating. She wasn’t breathing.

“Oh geeze, not undead. Anything but zombie. This is certainly going to put a damper on my sex life. And the whole flesh eating things. I’m a vegetarian for gosh sakes. This isn’t going to work for me,” she yelled at no one in particular.

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