Category Archives: Flash Fiction

Six Word Short

Six Word Short

The woman’s long, blonde hair fluttered in the breeze at the top of the skyscraper, as she gazed out over the city. She nibbled at her doughnut as she tried to gather her courage. The meeting time was drawing near, and she didn’t want to mess this up.

She glanced at her watch and, realizing she had only five minutes, quickly turned to the roof door, muttering to herself, “Come on, Gloria, you can do this. Don’t chicken out NOW.” She pulled open the heavy metal door and began her descent down the cement stairs.

At the 50th floor, she pushed open another metal door and entered the hallway. She could hear beautiful music wafting through the air, tickling the back of her memory. The music gained volume as her tread took her closer to the door behind which she knew she would find the composer.

Stepping through the door, she paused, gently closing it behind her, and closed her eyes to enjoy the sounds that now surrounded her. When the music came to a sudden halt, her eyes popped open, and the composer questioned in his thick Italian accent, “Yes?”

“Gloria,” she stated, offering a hand. He took it, shook it gently, then dropped a kiss on the back before letting it go.

“Ah, yes,” he muttered, “Gloria, my dear. You will sing for me, yes?”

She nodded nervously, moving to stand by the piano. She looked around, pulling at her collar as she realized the air was warmer than it ought to be. “Is the air conditioner broken?” she asked.

A voice from the corner of the room, behind a freestanding shelf overloaded with sheet music, came a voice, “Nah, just needs a little tweakin’. I think the flywheel came off the rotor in the whatchamacallit.”

Gloria felt quite certain that the man was not a repairman, as his comment made absolutely no sense. Just then, cool air began to blow into the room once more, and she took a deep breath as the composer began to play.


The six words were: doughnut – blonde – flywheel – skyscraper – composer – courage

Six Word Short

Six Word Short

Terrence looked at the computer, puzzled by the results on the screen. Slowly, he turned to the calculator at his right hand and re-keyed the sequence, hoping for a matching result, at least, but hardly expecting it. The cruise ship was slowing, following its owner’s lead, as the computer worked harder to try to figure out the sequence it had been fed.

From the doorway, an exclamation indicated that Tucker had once again bumped the cactus on the way in. “You really should remove this stupid thing, Terrence!” he grumbled. “I’ve held my temper the last eighteen times I ran into it, but I’m no saint! My patience is coming to an end.”

Terrence’s chuckle only served to annoy Tucker further, but he continued across the room to see what Terrance was doing. “What seems to be the problem?”

Terrence shrugged and responded, “There’s no rhyme or reason to it. The numbers add up, but the program doesn’t work. Any idea what the problem is?”

“I have no idea,” Tucker peered at the screen, “but this part here kind of looks like a turtle!”


The six words were cactus, saint, computer, turtle, cruise ship, and calculator.

Flash Fiction – #2

Flash Fiction – #2

The library was quiet, more quiet than usual. There was no rustling of pages, no quiet whispers, no footsteps between the shelves. Smoke hung so thick in the library’s rafters that she could read words in it. Not the words of the book bindings behind it, as one might think, but, oddly enough, actual words made of smoke. A shiver traversed her spine as she read them aloud – if only to break the deafening silence.

“THE TIME HAS COME.”

Glancing around, Shamira found herself wondering the time for what? The library was still and silent as she stood there, considering.

Turning slowly, Shamira began to make her way to the tall front doors, her steps echoing eerily through the abandoned building. As she paused, her heart began racing as she realized – it wasn’t an echo.

Flash Fiction – #1

Flash Fiction – #1

Miscellany was piled from one end of the huge room to the other, leaving only five or six narrow paths for the shoppers to amble along as they perused the patchwork of paraphernalia that was available for purchase. Karah’s eyes skimmed over the edges and corners as she traversed the room, one path after another.

Nearly halfway down the fourth path, a glint from something near the bottom of a pile caught her eye. Karah glanced around her, noting nobody was near, and she lowered herself and stretched into the milieu until she could reach the bit of indeterminable metal. As she drew it out of the pile, the shape of the thing confirmed what she’d suspected: it was a nifty little thingamabob with a variety of moving tabs and levers that tickled her fancy.

Carrying it carefully to the table near the exit which was set up with a coin box and a chip reader, she asked the surly attendant, “How much is this thing?”

Barely glancing at the device, he answered laconically, “Fifteen.”

“Works for me,” Karah replied, offering her minichip for payment.

The attendant flashed his chip reader wand at her and punched a button on the side. “Y’wanna receipt?” he muttered.

“No, thanks,” Karah responded. Her outfit had no pockets. Turning so fast toward the door that her skirt flared, she exited without delay. Stepping into the waiting transport, she dropped into the first open seat and began to inspect her treasure more closely.

As she turned it over, one of the levers switched to the other position with an audible “click.” A tiny light began to emanate from the interior of the device. She looked up quickly, but no other passenger showed any interest, so she waited a moment, then turned it again. This time, a knob popped out, standing at attention on a thin bar. A deep hum began, so low that she felt it rather than heard it.

The transport had pulled into a stop, and she noticed it was hers. Stepping off into the street, she began toward home under the twilight sky, still fidgeting with the odd device.

Suddenly, a hovercraft zoomed in to stop suddenly just ahead of her. As the upper hatch began to open, a vehicle squealed to a stop just behind. Unsure what to do, Karah’s instincts had kicked in, and she peeked up from her near-fetal position on the ground. The occupant of the hovercraft was wearing the uniform of the Northern Kingdom army, and the occupant of the other vehicle was obviously a general from the Capital’s army.

If she had known the device was going to cause an international war, she would have left it at the bottom of the pile.