Flash Fiction

Prompts come from http://jetreidliterary.blogspot.ca/

100 word stories using all five prompt words.

*

Prompt: gaze scapegrace scram forti fin

The landscape, graced with ferns taller than the stars, cries out in fortissimo for a mark, some proof of my final, greatest achievement.

For who would know I made it here? My time machine has dissolved to dust, victim of its own energy, and I am alone.

My signature will be a joke to anthropologists, who will no doubt scramble to decode the anachronism.

The cave will protect my work, I will descend tonight to draw gazelle in the age of dinosaurs, leave coded messages in my handprints.

Millennia from now, before I am even born, I will be famous.

 

*

Prompt: cat splat post time wall

This is how it began, a splat of clay, slick sides rising to meet skilled fingers. Over time a bowl took shape, wide and deep, a wallow for fruit. White and yellow paint brightened it, glaze finished it.

Scrambled eggs filled it on Easter morning and kapusta on Christmas Eve. It held post at the door on Hallowe’en, spilling out bags of chips to eager hands. Most days the top of the fridge was its home, cradling nuts, dried fruit.

Now the bowl’s a mere scattering of shards on the kitchen floor, casualty of the cat’s endless need for height.

*

Prompt: No questions asked

No questions asked.
No permission sought.
No future considered.

No secrets hidden.
No fights avoided.
No fucks given.

No mercy granted.
No insults swallowed.
No punches pulled.

No charges laid.

*

Prompt: X Bone Devil Slip 100

You open the door. The room is dark. On the floor you see a faintly glowing X.
>LOOK X

The X is oddly shaped. The green glow reminds you of something.
>STEP X

The floor starts to shake. You notice an aged slip of parchment.
>RUN

You cannot run.
>READ PARCHMENT

The words on the parchment become clear. You hear a rattle growing louder.
>STOP READING

You cannot do that.
>RUN

You cannot run.
>PISS YOURSELF

You cannot do that.
>DROP GLOWSTONE

You drop the stone. A bone devil appears. “Finally! I’ve been looking for this for 100 years!”

*

Prompt: miff tiff sulk huff fluff

“Are you going to TIFF tonight?”
“I am if Freida is.”
“What? I asked if you’re stiff.”
He didn’t, but whatever. “Why?”
“You’re shuffling.”
“Am not.” Am totally so; Consul Kevin is a powerhouse.
He’s miffed now. “Tiffany. Fluffbrain.”
“Pardon?” Innocence.
“How about an aperitif?”
“Frangelico?”
He pours.
I taste. “This is Cointreau.”
“You asked for Cointreau.”
Fluffy shit like this isn’t worth arguing about. So I do. “Did not.”
“You’re so forgetful,” he huffs. “Good thing you have me.”
I slam the glass down and stalk upstairs. If he thinks I’m sulking I can go to TIFF with Kevin.

*

Prompt: Begin with “And then she saw”, end with “stunned her”. Also use: cat hat splat

And then she saw them enter, tasers ready, three men in lab coats. Sue distracted Nancy with the catalysis results, but watched through the window that divided them from the rest of the lab.

The thugs were clumsy. Crashing glass and an ominous splat alerted Nancy to the strangers, the weapons. She reached for the silent alarm but Sue was faster, pretending to trigger it.

The man who’d enriched Sue’s bank balance had been emphatic that no one would get hurt, but fear chilled her spine as they destroyed Nancy’s research then walked over to Sue and casually stunned her.

*

Prompt: sea blue salt safe land

All we knew was deep sea, cold and dark. When we needed to move we followed the whales, their great size providing safety from predators. But we were adventurous, Father and I, and left in search of new experiences.

Father wanted to swim up, toward the dim light, where the water was warmer. “We’ll see all kinds of new people,” he said.

We discovered a new shade of blue, so bright, so sharp. I swam higher, chasing the sparkles, though he told me to stop. I ignored him and plunged out of the water — tasted salt, saw land, smelled

*

Prompt: snow blow ice chill spring

The paper was soft, folded once, the ink pale. Emma’s great-aunt Alice had written ‘Springerle, Lilli’s favourite’. Emma didn’t know a Lilli; she wasn’t family. Inside, a different script, brighter ink.
Four eggs. Two lumps of butter.
Dearest Alice,
A letter, woven into the recipe.
I dream about your lips now. How soft, how comforting your kiss.
Chill dough overnight.
I miss you. It was dumb, lowering myself to marry him. I was a coward.
Roll a second time with patterned roller.
I have a ticket to Montreal. See you soon. Love, Lilli.
Emma didn’t know a Lilli.

*

Prompt: absorb execute bold shim chill

“Execute him.”

I sat a moment to absorb (ha!) the punishment. I’d seen the digester at work and even the boldest didn’t go near it unless they had to. I couldn’t eat sashimi for a year after I first saw the creature. The memory of the screaming still gave me chills.

I didn’t kill the prince. We faked it all. He was up in the gallery, disguised, and I could almost sense his pain as I waited. But when we were children I swore an oath to protect him, and this is how I would do it.

*

Prompt: week rag creak snag peak

I worked the shows at Ragtime Freddie’s, improvising a tune as I wiped sticky tables or snagged glasses to take to the bar.
Freddie, she heard me at peak voice one night, said I could be great. Said I could practice with the band that week, try it out. Of course I agreed. It paid less, but the respect was better.
The first practice was going great, we were really swinging. So much so that the creaky board gave way under Ned and I took a clarinet to the throat, hard.
Josephine Dumont, jazz singer. One night only.

*

Prompt: six crow spy secret weapon

Siren.
What? No.
Crow, always watching.
Spying on me in my white room with its peeling wallpaper, rosebuds secret under decades and cigarettes, canvas for thirty-six lipstick hashmarks.
I wish that crow would shut up already. I wish it would fly down the chimney to me. I bet it would be delicious.
Three days since they were last here. Three days without food. I drink from the filthy bathroom tap; I can’t make myself stop.
That sound’s not a crow, it’s a car.
The door opens. He comes in, weapon drawn. Killer or saviour, I don’t even care anymore.

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~ by Cheryl on March 1, 2016.

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