Tag Archives: short story

Giving Notice…

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It was an open secret that the top twenty floors could be jettisoned in the event of an emergency – a fire or a raid by the IRS. No one believed it of course. The story was merely the legend-spinning of an overly flamboyant landlady. Little did they realise that they were slowly being conditioned and coerced with subtle advertising and targeted marketing – the best rates and exclusive deals – till finally she had all the rotten eggs in one place – the fraudsters and embezzlers, pariahs and parasites, and that’s when the building became a Christmas tree of lights and the rockets burst into life. Whether they liked it or not her tenants were being evicted from Earth…

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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Victoria Falls…

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None of Victor’s kids wished to be saddled with the property – grim, prone to subsidence and perpetual reminder of a mirth-free childhood. Let it be forgotten with the old tyrant.

But alas, the last will and testament was clear, as were the sizeable debts that had been left behind.

Victor’s kids were besides themselves…

…Until they realised the log-flume potential.

They delayed the funeral for a year (no one would’ve come anyway) and, shortly before the grand opening, retrieved their father from his frosty limbo, placed him in the front seat and gave him a send off worthy of marvel…

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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Chattering…

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From the outset it was made abundantly clear that I was considered a poor choice of husband – never more so than at our engagement party: the remotest corner of their extensive grounds, the cheapest furniture, the second best china. I bore their sophisticated scorn with good grace, safe in the knowledge that, whilst not particularly dashing, I was pulling off a daring rescue mission, right under their very noses.

Despite malice, subterfuge and excommunication the inheritance nevertheless found its way into our hands. That we never wanted it would no doubt have doubly offended.

They are empty chairs now, inward facing, silent.

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

26 Comments

Filed under Flash fiction

You say tomato…

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In the absence of anything approaching moral fortitude Ursula Boxing arrived at her vocation.

Want someone putting in a box?

Call Ursula Boxing.

Her slow-witted, affable husband Jim manned the phone. As far as he was aware they ran a haulage company (though strangely he’d never seen any trucks).

‘My darling,’ he announced, ‘you’ve a job at a boxing gym! Isn’t that precious!’

‘Yes dear,’ she sighed, sizing him up for future packaging.

The decoded message was clear. Woman. 52. One between the eyes – no fuss.

The place was boarded up. As she entered the door slammed shut behind her and she heard rivets being driven into concrete.

Ursula Boxing was now Ursula Boxed.

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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The Great Question Of Our Age…

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The other moths treated Gary like a pariah.

‘Why don’t you fly towards the light ‘Gary’? Illumination not good enough?’

He often wondered whether they’d ascended to the Promised Land, or ended their days concussed and in flames.

When asked what he believed in Gary replied:

Martin’s favourite jumper

 

Written for: Twittering Tales

11 Comments

Filed under Flash fiction

Serendipidouche…(Friday Fictioneers)

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Percival was a steel magnate struggling to hide his family’s bankruptcy.

Because he was bankrupt he had failed to pay his gas bill.

As such the ornate lamps that lit his vast estate stood dormant.

Because it was dark a daring vision of loveliness lost her bearings and crashed her light aircraft in a nearby field.

Percival rushed to her aid and the two were instantly smitten.

News of their unusual and joyous union spread throughout the land, and lucrative public appearances abounded.

The vision of loveliness later lost interest…

But Perceval paid her little mind…

After all…

HE WAS RICH!!!

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

17 Comments

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Stiff Upper Lip…(Twittering Tales)

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…Terribly sorry to impose upon you old chap, but might I beg a brief audience to articulate the pickle in which I find myself. Time is short (as is paper) so allow me to harness the power of brevity and proceed forthwith to the kernel of my concern. I am stranded on a des…

 

[END OF MESSAGE]

277 Characters

Written for: Twittering Tales

 

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Filed under Flash fiction, short story

Twittering Tales: When Women Rule The Earth…

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I call this one: ‘Men argue over who has the best camera whilst woman takes epic photo.’ And this one’s: ‘Men miss Bigfoot flying UFO…and…’

 

140 Characters

Written for: Twittering Tales

2 Comments

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Twittering Tales: Can’t reach the ‘Off’ switch…

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Initially, being accidentally shrunk down to the size of an amoeba sucked, until he discovered other scientists the size of atoms and took up residence as their god.

 

139 Characters

Written for: Twittering Tales

4 Comments

Filed under Flash fiction

You most of all…

shoes-and-books-by-magaly-guerrero

The reading of the will gave Julian the final confirmation that his mother had hated him. His sister got the house and his brother inherited the business ‘…and to you, my first-born, I bequeath the shoes I was wearing when I met your father, my favourite tan satchel and two volumes on Mesopotamian art.’

He was incensed.

‘I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, she knew how much I hated that satchel, and what am I supposed to do with high heels?’

His siblings presented an alternative view. ‘Have you any idea how important these items were to her? She cherished them above all other possessions.’

Many embittered years later Julian rediscovered the items in his vast attic whilst searching for something of greater worth. A slip of paper slid from the between the two volumes.

‘My darling. Not everything can be expressed in monetary terms. I poured my love into these trinkets, just like I poured my love into you… ‘

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

23 Comments

Filed under Flash fiction, short story