Tag Archives: short story

Oval-Lords…

Our benevolent alien overlords later marvelled at how easily they had conquered the planet. All it had taken was an absurd little art installation – the perfect cover for their illuminous eggy bodies. How they’d laughed at being mistaken for a conceptual comment on gender equality.

‘Blue for a boy, pink for a girl,’ Glarf howled with glee, its abdomen turning the optimum shade of magenta.

‘Stand back,’ it warned its fellow conquerors. A violent shivering expungement of lust cause the surrounding water to bubble and fizz. The overlord’s abdomen was blue once more.

With its libido in check Glarf got back to the business of running the place and eating people.

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

Film

She was convinced he was having an affair. The investigator found no evidence, but his photos were masterful. Together they engaged in more intimate forms of photography. Her husband found the photos, used them to secure a sizeable divorce settlement and lived happily ever after with a succession of trophy wives.

 

Written for: Twittering Tales

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Filed under Flash fiction

You say ‘Tomato,’ I say ‘Extinction Event’

Arrival

Nagrath surfaced for the first time in a billion years. The last occasion he’d felt this peckish there’d been an abundance of brontosauruses, but now it was all concrete and ants.

‘This’ll never fill me up,’ he sighed, but having polished off the marine life he’d have to make the best of it.

 

Written for: Twittering Tales

 

 

 

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And Who’s Gonna Pay For It?

Russell-quarry

In the unlikely event that they manage to scale the sheer rock face, we’ve provided an added deterrent in the form of an electric fence. At this point even the most ardent aristocrat will thing twice about their dreams of a ‘Mexican Utopia,’ turn tail and rejoin their outlaw band of hedge fund managers and rapists.
It may seem a little Draconian, but think of the children, think of your watered down tequilas, your drooping moustaches (and even droopier sombreros). It’s a vision too terrible to contemplate. Mi nombre es Don Trumpino and I approve this message…

 

97 Words.

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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The Burp…

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It was an ingeniously simple design for which the Intergalactic Utilities Company held a universal patent. From planet to planet their lightweight water-proof canopy, known colloquially as The Burp, provided a plethora of life saving functions.

On Smorg, a world blighted by adverse gravity The Burp served as essential ballast in preventing its occupants from floating away.

On the perpetually damp world of Frond, The Burp protected its highly absorbent inhabitants from swelling up and exploding.

But by far an away its most lorded use was on the notorious bland planet of Beige where colourful Burps played an integral part in spicing up their mating rituals.

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

21 Comments

Filed under Flash fiction

Hidden In Plain Sight…

jhc-clock

Dearest Richard,

If you find this letter, then perhaps there is a chance for us after all.

Do you remember when and where I bought the clock? A bric-a-brac impulse in happier times.

Each hour the little man emerges from his arched door and chimes the hour amidst a tinny fanfare. I imagine he was important once, but like so many things, time marginalised him into an anonymous oddity. In that respect he and I are very much alike. I have placed this missive in his arms. Every sixty minutes he will offer you a way back, if you have the eyes to see and the heart to remember…and if not…

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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Punching above my weight…

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During DNA trial #17654 Derek found the gene for sexual attraction. Shredding his notes and torching the lab he left with a small vial containing a potent elixir and began his new life as an Adonis.

 

(198 characters)

Written for: Twittering Tales

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Filed under Flash fiction

Probing Questions…

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‘Excuse me. Would you mind taking part in a survey?’

‘Sure.’

‘Really? Great! OK, question 1. Are you currently A: In a medically induced coma, or B: In a fiction surrounded by paid actors?’

‘How about C: Doing the weekly shop with my wife?’

‘I’m afraid that’s not an option Michael.’

‘How do you know my name’s Michael?’

‘I didn’t say Michael. You said Michael.’

‘This is ridiculous.’

‘Then walk away Michael.’

‘I will.’

‘Sir?’

‘I can’t move!’

‘Why do you think that is? Is it A: You are in a medically induced coma, or B: Aliens have inser…’

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneer

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I Hades when he does that…

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‘Found you!’

‘God this game’s rubbish…and rigged! I’m the perpetually anger Lord of the Underworld, surrounded at all times by a fiery cloud, and you can change form at will.’

‘Nevertheless, it’s my turn to hide.’

 

Written for: Twittering Tales

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Early Adopter…

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Technology had really taken the adrenaline out of Peeping Tommery – spy cams, zoom lenses and such like.

Roger was old school – Get up close and personal, take a table lamp to the face like a man.

The technician tapped the jar in which his brain floated. ‘No Roger! Bad thoughts!’

 

Written for: Twittering tales

4 Comments

Filed under Flash fiction