Posts Tagged ‘short story’
{ May 16, 2010 @ 7:10 pm }
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{ Flash fiction, sci-fi }
{ Tags: chondrites, daniel, daniel brolund, doomsday, fiction, flash, Flash fiction, Mayan calendar, meteorite shower, meteorites, sci-fi, science fiction, shoes, short story } · { }
Daniel’s pockets were bulging. It was not simple to walk all easy breezy with his pockets full of stones, but Daniel believed he was gliding. Not that anyone noticed that was not the case, not really. Who had time to watch people, even less their pockets these days.
The stones in Daniel’s pockets were far from ordinary, but Margaret kept on referring to them simply as ‘stones’, in spite of their respectable age and origin. Those ‘stones’ were about 4.5 billion years old, as old as the solar system, and they came from above. They were chondrites, stone meteorites.
… continue reading this entry.
{ January 6, 2010 @ 12:16 am }
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{ Fairy tale, Flash fiction }
{ Tags: afterlife, dead, death, Fairy tale, fiction, flash, Graceslayer, Lady D, life, lullaby, reborn, short story, soul, wolf, wolves, writing } · { }
Winter landscapes exposed me to you, Graceslayer, to your blood thirst and your favorite toys.
My dead body hangs on your wall and your little town could not be redder today.
But, Lady D says that she is lying in wait for you, Graceslayer.
Lady D says she’ll quake the life out of your retarded being. She says that in my next life I’ll get a toy made of your hide.
But… I do not want the toy. I just want to live again, howl at the moon and run free with my pack, without you in sight.
And you know what, Graceslayer – that is how it shall be; this is your last life, Lady D says. Your soul perished when you sent that bullet through my heart.
Yes, my dead body hangs on your wall today, but I shall be reborn tomorrow, while your days are numbered. Lady D is counting.
There are laws above yours, Graceslayer.
{ December 11, 2009 @ 2:44 pm }
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{ Microfiction, Published elsewhere }
{ Tags: android, At The Bijou, bored, Microfiction, published, short story } · { }
A piece I wrote, Androids Can Be Bored, is playing today At The Bijou!
‘At The Bijou’ is a wonderful site made by Absolutely Kate.
In the most special and very original – only-Kate-can-do-it ways, every Tuesday and Thursday she is presenting chosen authors and their pieces there. Check it out and come back for more!
I am very honoured! : ) Thank you so much, Kate!
{ October 8, 2009 @ 10:38 am }
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{ Flash fiction, Love, Six sentences }
{ Tags: 6S, anniversary, fiction, Flash fiction, male perspective, man, relationship, short story, woman } · { }
This time I did everything right; I booked our favorite restaurant and bought her a pair of expensive looking earrings (I got her flowers only once, the first time we went out; just seeing me holding the bouquet at the door made her cry; I thought – crap, what have I done now, my mom says roses always work… It turns out that my wife-to-be is actually not overly emotional; she just has a strong allergy to pollen).
My girl came out of the bathroom after not more than half an hour late, but I was fine with that; I had some time to deliver a daily dose of “yes, mom” and “no, mom” on the phone.
In the midst of thinking how lucky I was to be with that gorgeous woman who also had (most of the time) the sweetest personality to match, I noticed an impatient look on my darling’s pretty face; her left brow was twitching (now, maybe that is not a condition that requires medical attention, but I really get scared from looking at it, and being scared often can’t possibly be good for my health…); she had asked something, apparently, and now she was waiting for an answer.
I felt like in a bad dream; my brain paralyzed, stuck in a wrong moment; but still I could hear myself very well when I responded with one firm “yes” just to see those perfectly shaped lips getting distorted with anger while her freckles were disappearing in the sea of red that took over her whole face within seconds.
The love of my life ran back into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door while sobbing and at the same time screaming (at me, evidently): “You… you… happy jerkaversary, you jerk!!!”.
{ September 28, 2009 @ 5:36 pm }
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{ Flash fiction, Six sentences }
{ Tags: 6S, crime, Flash fiction, monologue, semi-dialog, short story, Six sentences } · { }
You said I was perfect for you; isn’t it amazing how you could feel that after knowing me for only an hour we’ve spent together in the moving car?
I talk a lot and I am not used to people actually listening, but you do; and I usually feel so lonely but no, not now when I am with you, isn’t that amazing?
No, I have no friends or family, no, I have no one; there are seldom days when I do not feel like the most miserable person on Earth, and here you came, being so kind and talking to me with such a genuine warmth in your voice.
Why are we stopping in the middle of the forest, did something break?
Is that a gun in your hand?
But, you said I was perfect…
{ April 20, 2009 @ 6:29 pm }
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{ Flash fiction, Moments }
{ Tags: caligynephobia, dialog, dream, Einstein, female logic, fiction, Flash fiction, invisible, mirror, reflection, short story, sleepwalking, speed of light, woman } · { }
– Am I real?
– Why wouldn’t you be?
– I am not visible.
– You do not have to be visible in order to be real.
– I was visible recently. Now, when I look at you, I am not. I have changed.
– Do you think the change was from “real” to “unreal”?
– You tell me. I can not see my own reflection in you. How’s that for “being real”?!
– Hmmm, have you ever heard of vampires?
… continue reading this entry.
{ April 13, 2009 @ 10:30 am }
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{ Flash fiction, Love, Moments }
{ Tags: black hole, fiction, heart, hurt, Love, lovers, pain, people, red dress, sea, short story, time, travel, wedding dress, writing } · { }
On a sunny summer day I was lying on a pier, with my head resting on your lap. There were no waves. The turquoise sea was calm, almost silent.
I heard the buzz coming from the people sitting in a small café on the beach and shouts of children in the background. They were there, cut and pasted from another time, another place. They did not see us, in spite of the train of my dress covering about one-third of the pier, coloring it red. We were there in our own invisible bubble, more real for us than reality itself was; non existing for others.
… continue reading this entry.
{ March 19, 2009 @ 3:56 pm }
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{ Moments }
{ Tags: angel, cat, death, innocence, killings, life, murderer, short story, vignette, writing } · { }
A murderer is in my bed, lying next to me, breathing silently. She looks like the most innocent creature that ever walked the Earth, nothing but gentle softness resides in her transparent aura.
Her cheek on my hand feels light as a feather. Her body is warm and dry like a good summer day. All the hugs and kisses stained her with my perfume; she smells so sweet. The scent feels different and even better on her than the pure concentrate from the bottle.
I kiss her perfect little forehead and she makes a small sound while dreaming of her past and future killings.
My little angel kills with her innocence unharmed. No, she never regrets it. Still, she always gets confused in front of Death. She does not understand. Where did Life go?
I struggle hard to ignore all the killings, I do not want to think of them. I love her as she is, my little furry darling angel. My little accidental murderer.
{ February 25, 2009 @ 9:38 pm }
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{ Flash fiction, Uncategorized }
{ Tags: dialog, God, male, medicine, religion, short story, voice, writing } · { }
“You should go out and meet some new people. Or some old friends of yours.”
“I have no friends.”
“Of course you do. Anyway, you should not be alone all day long, every day. You must feel lonely.”
“I am not lonely. I am not alone either, God is often with me.”
… continue reading this entry.
{ February 11, 2009 @ 10:52 pm }
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{ Fairy tale, Flash fiction, Love }
{ Tags: eternal life, fairytale, fiction, hate, immortality, Love, monologue, return, short story, stake, story, witch, writing } · { }
Dear Joe,
Take a deep breath and keep your eyes wide open. You knew the truth all this time, yet you refused to believe in it.
You stood there for some time and stared without blinking, Joe. They were approaching, all of them. They were coming closer and closer while the smoke caressed my body, attempting to hide me from them.
My bones were heated to stay warm for all the ice ages to come, and you, my love, you were the only one who did not whisper God’s name and make the sign of the cross over your heart, horrified after I broke into laughter. You were the only one who dared to come close to the stake and spit on the witch from The North. Did they praise your courage in the years that followed, my darling? I am laughing again, Joe… but, tell me, did you spit in an attempt to extinguish the fire, or because you hated me for leaving you?
I am being honest, Joe. I admit – I left you. It sounds like a fairytale – you loved me because I put a spell on you, while I did not care. But, when I fell in love with you, Joe… you are the only one who knows how I can love.
I brought you back to life and broke the spell. You could have left, but you stayed, Joe… and I, I came back. Eight hundred years later, I still love you.
{ January 4, 2009 @ 8:08 pm }
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{ Fairy tale, Flash fiction }
{ Tags: cat, children, cloud, dialog, fairy, fiction, human, perception, playing sandbox, sandbox, short story, story, writing } · { }
Max was playing in the sand. The castles he was making with help of a small, plastic sand shovel were quite simple in shape and lacked many details. Still, he was doing the best he could. He was humming and looked happily engaged in his sculpting activity.
The Blue Fairy silently glided from a cloud and came to Max from behind. She tenderly touched his head. Max got so scared when he felt her touch that he dropped the shovel, jumped aside and yelled.
… continue reading this entry.
{ December 28, 2008 @ 12:36 pm }
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{ Flash fiction }
{ Tags: fiction, frog, monologue, sense, short story, writing } · { }
Stop telling me that there is no frog in our flat. I heard it this morning again and I know it is here somewhere.
Yes, I know that we live in a city, but everyone has to live somewhere. Frogs have to live somewhere, too.
Yes, I know that we live on the 17th floor, but frogs can jump. I know they can not jump that high, but there are elevators.
No, they cannot press buttons, but they can enter an elevator when someone else does and travel with that person.
No, it did not ring the bell, and no, it did not have the key to our apartment. It probably came in when you opened the door going to or coming from work.
No, you would not have noticed that. You would not notice a frog if it sat on the top of my head.
Wait, I hear it again! Won’t you please shut up? I prefer listening to the frog.
No, this frog does not have nicer voice than you do; it is the content I like more. Stop making sense!
Stumble it!
MissUnderstood 