FlashFictionLives

Early winter winds swept across the late October night. Her sweater suddenly seemed too thin. She started walking faster. Leaving the streetlights behind she ducked under the fence and decided on a shortcut through the field. To her left was an elaborate maze of corn, three acres wide, the biggest in the state, the land running alongside her own family’s farm. It was dark now but she knew this path like the back of her hand. She was half way home when the sound of a bird startled her. It was a crow, squawking and shrieking with abandon as it tore into something very dead, and very fresh. She turned her head in disgust at the site and ke

The trees beyond the cemetery are all dead, bare of leaves with branches twisted liked gnarled limbs all akimbo. They've been that way as long as I can remember. Thirty Five years and still they stand, tall, dark and tangled. Most people find it off putting, too foreboding a backdrop for a place already shrouded in death. Walking through the grove of trees I'm surprised at how tall they are, at how the trunks and branches bend and curl, some swirling up and some swirling down. I touch them and they feel strong, solid. Perhaps they're not dead after all... I find them uniquely beautiful, stark yet majestic in their own way. I follow along thi

The world had fallen away. Hours upon hours were lost on this fevered task, interrupted only to eat and keep his body up to strength or lie awake in his bed until the obsession called him back to the computer. He ignored the dull pain behind his bloodshot eyes. Outside, the rain had been pelting car hoods and blacktop for so long it was nothing but white noise added to the low hiss of the computer and the hum of the fridge. There was only the screen, highlighted by the wan light of overcast sky or sickly sodium lamps cutting through the dark. Day or night were no different as long as there was yet more to watch and watch again until nagging

It all started when the courts realised they could resurrect people to stand trial. Murder-suicide was no longer an option. They’d just bring you back and put you in jail anyway. Of course, they could have brought the victims back as well, but the justice system found that too confusing to bring to trial. With me, though, things were a little more difficult. Typical. “Where were you on the night of the 26th of July?” Detective Roundbelly asked. He did tell me his name, but I forgot it almost right away. Short term memory takes a while to boot back up when you’ve been brought back from the dead. “At home,” I

    When Adeline was young, she would dream of the fairytales her father told. His deep voice painted landscapes she had never seen, with fairies and dragons and elves that came in all sizes and shapes; a good wizard who conquered an evil wizard—a princess who always found her prince. Her father fueled her dreams night after night until a day came when he didn’t, and it fell to the books on her shelves to fill the void of her dreams.      “Outdated books,” Adeline thought. Her eyes followed the children splashing in the public fountain in front of her. Basile had told her that only half of the children were actually c

Tutto sembra semplice quando ti guardo mentre litighi e scherzi con i tuoi amici o mentre semplicemente sogni, guardando in alto ti perdi nell’azzurro del cielo, e di rimando il cielo si perde nell’azzurro dei tuoi occhi. Tutto sembra così semplice quando ti guardo. È strano, ci conosciamo da una vita siamo sempre stati insieme ma non ti ho mai raggiunto non ti ho mai rivelato questi sentimenti che incessanti riempiono le mie giornate. Tutto sembra semplice, ma è solo apparenza perché quando ti parlo, quando provo a raggiungerti mi accorgo che la mia gola non mi appartiene il mio cuore impazzisce e la mia mente

The sound of marching soldiers erupted through the air. A thirteen-year-old girl stood in front of the soldier's path. The soldiers pointed their machine guns at her face.    A grin of contempt grew across the girl's face. Her dark brown hair drifted over her dark blue eyes. The girl smiled at the soldiers.    She looked past their guns towards the treeline behind them. Locking her eyes on the shimmering glass skyline of a city. The morning sun was sparkling between the glass skyscrapers. The city tried to hide from the girl, but the treeline wasn’t high enough.    Her eyes shimmered back at the soldiers in front of her. She knew the

Marcella lived in a cramped house with an aging dog. She desperately tried to get him downstairs, but he’s smart enough to know that if he tried he’ll go tumbling straight down. One day, she set his dog bed right by the stairway so that he wouldn’t feel lonely. It seemed to work for a good while, so she kept it there. One hot summer day, however, as she was moving an air conditioner down to the basement, she deeply regretted it.

"I hear you've got enchantments on all the petroleum pipes out of Mexico these days, Doug?" said skinny Javier Galo, cutting the deck and pushing it to his left. "Warlocks all along the northern border," Doug nodded. He sucked his Bolívar cigar and emitted a perfect smoke cube over the baize. "I'm moving into Texas. The spells there are straw houses, I'll puff 'em down before March." The man in the hat coughed significantly. "Don't underestimate those Texan charms, Dougie," The Big Red rumbled, his large face glowing. "They might glitter like show costumes, but they're thick as tanned bull hide, under it." "Uh huh? Well I think I kno

You can't even imagine the horror on the faces of those onlookers. By two in the afternoon, a crowd had gathered at the pool side, and were in awe of the disaster unfolding. Nobody knew how or when it had happened, but a five and a half ton killer whale named Ojumbi was lodged in the rafters. The interior pool was designed with whale containment in mind, and a sixty foot high ceiling seemed more than adequate for both a whale and the staggered seating. Sarah, who was primarily in charge of Ojumbi, had passed out by the poolside, and a number of maintenance guys were at a loss as to how to get the poor creature down from up there. The whale m

Passing the park a few blocks away was always the most difficult part of getting to the corner store.  Stuart was one reason.  The other was Homeless Hobo Hank.  In Ralph's twelve-year-old mind, a class bully was less scary than what the other kids speculated might be hiding under the blankets covering Hank's shopping cart.  But not by much.  Besides, he could never let on that he was scared by Hank, no matter how allegedly murderous he was.  He didn't need more grief from Stuart if he found out.  This afternoon he saw neither.  He turned the corner and went into the store. He was relieved to see Max behind the counter, head down in a textbo

A spiderweb dresses, like a doily spun of tissue, the window sill. Only some strands of the web are sticky. Walking upon the ones that are not, careful glances are cast out for a jittering bug. Spiders learn. Breathe on the web once, she'll jump out. And, every time after, she knows you are there.

Lisa is a naughty little girl. Every night, she walks barefoot around the yard to slap mud on her tiny little feet and then she runs back to the house, smearing filth all over the living room rug. When caught by her Nanny, Lisa would run even faster and scream loud enough to shake the whole house awake. "What a naughty little girl you are!" Nanny would call out, huffing and puffing after her. One night, Lisa walked around the yard yet again without her shoes on. She stomped on brown sludge in glee, humming a little song to herself as she does so. Lisa then ran back to the house as usual, smearing filth all over the living room rug. She mad

Harriet could find neither her cell nor the landline phone and as she fumbled around near the cash register. The confusion of the morning finally got to her and she sat down on the floor behind the counter. She probably should have thought to turn the sign to closed on the door to her pet store. All she wanted to do was call Neal, an ornithologist who might have some idea as to what had gone on in her shop. The agitated sounds of the animals were carried up into the living space she had in the loft above the store. Barks, meows, squeaks and whatever sounds the lizards could drum up all melded together in a cacophony. The invisible cyclone of

Nobody on the street wanted to talk about the field of ashes that used to be the home of a loving mother and daughter. If you asked the neighbors what became of the mother who used to bake cookies for the entire street, they'd shake their head and turn away. If you tried to learn the fate of the daughter who was usually seen skipping along the sidewalk while chasing butterflies, whoever you asked would immediately change the subject.   The locals wanted to leave the property be, but home builders had other plans. The neighbors had no words for the workers, only silent stares and questioning expressions. The project would be completed in late

He wasn't particular fond of the phrasing, considering it cliche, but there was a void inside of him that he didn't know how to fill. He felt peaceful, surrounded by trees shedding their verdance in shades of red and yellow, but the emptiness... it was still there, a constant insistence that he needed something more, but never so forthcoming as to explain what it could be. He'd wound up sitting on a patch of hidden wet, and was stubbornly refusing to move himself; cold, damp bottom be damned, this was were he'd sat and this was where he'd sit until he felt it was time to leave. "Make like a tree and leaf" popped into his head and he sighed d