Tag Archives: Writing

Giving Notice…

nyc-jill-wisoff

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

Advertisements

21 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

It’s off to worse we go…

img_1526

The seven dwarves made a fortune from their pay-per-view site ‘Watch Women Sleep,’ which, while sleazy, was a marked improvement on their original business idea: ‘High Hoes.’

 

175 Characters

Written for: Twittering Tales

7 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

The Long Game…

mt-lemmon-with-tree

Under scrutiny Greg’s discovery of a brand new dinosaur turned out to be an ostrich (a rookie mistake in retrospect). Retreating to the bar amidst howls of laughter he witnessed Lovely Rachel snogging Smarmy Terry the top-soil expert. And then, to cap it all off, the nearby volcano they’d been excavating chose that exact moment to erupt.

All in all the palaeontology conference left a lot to be desired.

Watching the lava roar towards him Greg realised there was no chance of escape. He arranged the ostrich bones on the ground and lay down amongst them. The last laugh would be his.

A million years later a landslide unearthed a strange two-headed creature that was proudly proclaimed to be a brand new dinosaur….

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

26 Comments

Filed under Flash fiction

Philandering 101…

photoa

“Always check into a hotel with a light fitting strong enough to swing off. Ensure that the windows are sufficiently thin that, in the unlikely event of running at full sprint from an angry husband, you can penetrate said pane whilst remaining conscious. Never higher than the first floor, and always with bushes below to deaden the fall where your car keys await wrapped in a towel to protect your modesty as you make good your escape.”

“And presumably: Not being tricked into meeting the aforementioned husband in a secluded setting would be near the top of the list?”

 

100 Words

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

18 Comments

Filed under Flash fiction

Chattering…

fatima-fakier-deria-3

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…

j-hardy-boxing-gym

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

11 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

Cruising for burgers…

js-brand

The way I understand it: The creatures get onto vessels so that they can view me in my natural habitat. They have some reverence for yours truly, no small amount of fear and (might I be so bold), a little awe.

Theirs is a strange existence. They cover their bodies in fabric, move about on a two dimensional plain and have seemingly restricted themselves to the smallest bit of the planet.

Disproportionately loud.

Not particularly tasty.

Far inferior to the blubbery, bewhiskered rodents that serve themselves up for lunch on a daily basis, but then in ever food-chain there are apex predators and there are light snacks…

 

Written for: Friday fictioneers

13 Comments

Filed under Flash fiction