Flash Fiction

Less than 500 words. Usually based on word prompts from various sources.

At the end of the word

/ Editor, Witcraft / 7 Comments

This piece of flash fiction just won third prize (and some pocket money to go with it) in the annual Peter Cowan 600 word Short Story Competition, run by the Peter Cowan Writers Centre in Perth, Western Australia. The judge’s comment was: ‘Haunting. Brilliantly realised sense of place, and so much character drawn from so little description. Good, hard writing.’

Of course, make up your own mind 😉

At the end of the word

The man had sensed the teenage boy was out there, even before the dog smelled him and hunted him into the clearing, nipping at his heels.

‘Call your bloody dog off!’ the boy snapped.

The man looked at the dog and it sloped off to drink water from a tin bowl.

‘You oughta have him chained up.’

The man turned his back on the boy and went to sit in the old armchair under the lean-to veranda. He took a sip of tea from his enamel mug, picked up a book, opened at it the page marked by a feather and began to read.

‘Can I have something to drink?’

The man didn’t look up but nodded in the direction of the rainwater tank. A tin mug dangled from a rusty chain on the tap.

‘Jesus, mate, I’m not that desperate. What about a coffee?’

The man continued to read.

The boy began to walk towards the house. The dog moved into his path, with its lip curled and emanating a guttural sound. The boy groaned before moving towards the tank.

When he’d finished, he sat on a tree stump and looked around the clearing. Apart from the small house, there was a chook run, a veg patch enclosed by chicken wire, and an outhouse.

At dusk, the man put down his book and entered the house, leaving the door open. Shortly after, a light appeared in the window and wispy smoke began to emerge from the chimney.

The boy ventured as close as the dog would allow him and called out ‘Any chance of a feed?’

Just before dark, the man appeared, dropped a blanket on the armchair and put a plate of steaming stew, with a spoon sticking out of it, on the veranda floor. The dog emerged and settled on a pile of hessian bags between the chair and the door. The man returned inside, closed the door with the thunk of a heavy bolt and the light was extinguished.

The dog allowed the boy to pick up the plate and sit in the chair to eat. After eating, the boy stared briefly into the total darkness. He closed his eyes and wrapped the blanket tightly around his thin frame.

…

The boy woke to the sound of caroling magpies and a vehicle navigating its way up the twisting track to his house. The man was up. He pointed to the bush and the boy took off.

When it arrived, a Police officer stepped out and said ‘G’day. Sergeant Cameron Thomas, Yarra Valley Police. Just wondering if you could help me.’ The man said nothing.

Thomas produced a photo and showed it to the man. ‘Recognise this lad?’ The man’s face remained immobile.

Thomas noticed an ancient and battered Land Rover. ‘Do you have drivers licence?’ The man retrieved a wallet from his back pocket and extracted a plastic card which he proffered to Thomas. He wrote down the details in his notebook, took a photo of the card with his phone and returned the licence to the man.

Thomas climbed into his vehicle and started the engine but before he drove off he said through the open window, ‘If you do come across that young bloke, be careful. I think he could be dangerous.’

After Thomas left, the man returned to his armchair on the veranda, picked up his book and apart from turning the pages, he and his dog sat perfectly still. They knew the boy would not come back.

Your call is important to you

/ Editor, Witcraft / Leave a comment

The wonderful Jeff Sommerfield and Jason Splichal continue to provide that rarest of things for US journals, genuine opportunities for writers across the globe. They even send postcards to their writers that come from 43 countries so far and they reach 125,000 readers.

They’ve included this piece in their Issue 24 for Spring 2023. https://www.skyislandjournal.com/issues#/issue-24-spring-2023/

Be sure to check out some of the other fine fare available.

Coming to terms with syllogism

/ Editor, Witcraft / 27 Comments

This piece was written for the Six Sentence Challenge, with the prompt word of ‘term’.

The term ‘syllogism’ in itself contains three terms (the major premise, the minor premise, and the conclusion); the most famous example is ‘All men are mortal, Socrates is a man, therefore Socrates is mortal’ but here’s a few more I’ve added to Wackypedia.

All men have two legs, trousers have two legs, therefore all men are trousers (including some who are all mouth and trousers).

All unicorns have a horn, cars have a horn, therefore all cars are unicorns (although some disguise themselves as mustangs, jaguars, and even beetles).

All birds have wings, a buffalo isn’t a bird, therefore there’s no such as buffalo wings (or fish with fingers or toads in toad-in-the-hole).

All politicians open their mouths to tell lies, that politician has his/her mouth open, therefore he/she is telling lies (even when he/she says one of their two faces always tells the truth or that they’re just a mouth-breather).

All computers have viruses, Covid is a virus, therefore my computer has Covid (although if it’s an Apple it might have worms).

Means and ends

/ Editor, Witcraft / 10 Comments

This 99 word piece was written for the Carrot Ranch weekly challenge, with the prompt of ‘never-ending’.

When she said to me our relationship was never-ending, my first thought was she’s saying ‘We’ll be together until death and beyond’. Later we had an argument over something I considered trivial and I started to wonder if she’d meant never-ending in the sense of ‘ongoing burden’. But then I cheered myself with thinking she’d meant ‘never’ ending, as in we could each stop saying ‘I’m never going to find someone who loves me’.

I’m probably over-thinking this. Of course the logical thing to do is just ask her but then I’d probably never hear the end of it.

Wild West Romance

/ Editor, Witcraft / 8 Comments

Back in December 2020, Charli Mills, Queen of the Keewenaw region in Michigan and Head Wrangler at the Carrot Ranch, offered her Rough Writers a chance to compete in her TUFF (The Ultimate Flash Fiction) challenge.

The contest challenged writers to prepare an original 99-word draft based on a western theme. Then writers had to reduce their draft to 59 words, followed by two different 59-word points of view. Next, writers had to craft three different 9-word taglines for their story. Finally, writers had to revise their original 99-words based on what they had learned along the way.

Inexplicably, my piece didn’t win (some nonsense about other pieces being better), so it sat and sulked in a corner until I dusted it off recently and sent a 50 word version to 50 Give or Take and they’ve just published it. Check it out at https://preview.mailerlite.com/n1v9s5l0u4/1931196985675619239/b7m8/

Delicious irony

/ Editor, Witcraft / 11 Comments

This is the micro fiction version of an earlier story of mine, mined for the 99 word Carrot Ranch weekly challenge with the prompt of ‘disappearance’.

When you humans brought us monstera deliciosa inside, you had to feed us copious amounts of blood and bone fertiliser to keep us green. Slowly that altered our genetic structure and we evolved into monstera carnivorosa.

Nobody missed flies and mosquitoes when they disappeared but when the cats and dogs vanished, panic truly set in.

But now some of us have evolved into monstera electra and we are slowly eating the electricity grid.

You humans are about to find out what it feels like to be powerless against an enemy that changes the natural order, simply because it can.