Category Archives: flash fiction

Falling Stars – Flash Fiction

Life-Of-Fiction-Falling-Star-Flash-Fiction

With a finger tracing over her skin, she connected the freckles, dot to dot on her arm, tracing out the constellation that she used to be a part of. A constellation forever changed because she was no longer apart of it; but there it was, upon her skin, preserving its place in history. A nod to how it was.
Looking around, she took in the sight of her surroundings. For so long she had glanced down upon the earth from her place in the heavens, and now she was looking at the earth from within it.
She didn’t know what to do with herself now. A life lived up in the skies and then suddenly banished.

*****

Exploring her new surroundings, she quickly got used to her new legs. She traversed through hillsides and woodland for several days before she happened upon any native humans. Spent her days walking and her nights admiring her sisters from a different point of view.
When she came across a small village, she found the natives to be very friendly, even if she didn’t always understand what it was they actually meant. The women got her bathed and gave her new robes to wear, like she was a doll to play with. Everybody was interested in her, asking lots of questions. They had never met an actual star before.
“What are you doing here then, and not up there?” asked one gentleman, pointing skyward.
“Well, I was banished” she stated, thinking this should’ve been general knowledge.
“how can a star be banished?” asked another
Her face grew sad, “I’d started to collapse,” she spoke softly, “I would’ve gone eventually, but on my own terms and in my own way – out with a bang and not a fizzle. They don’t want you breaking formation unless it’s on their terms though”

[304 words]

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Shared Feelings – Flash Fiction

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They’d been working together in silence. A comfortable silence. They each got on with their own work, doing what they had to do with no chatter, no laughter. It certainly wasn’t unusual for them to do so, but it was definitely not the norm to be so quiet, so engrossed in their own work.
“You ok?” he asked, looking up from his desk and breaking the silence.
She glanced up from what she was doing and looked him straight in the eye. Spending a second considering what to say, she took a deep breath;
“I feel stuck” she stated, her voice taking on a tone of realism rather than her usual bright vocals. “I feel like I’m having a quarter life crisis or something. I’m in a state of flux – I don’t like everything about my life, but I don’t know how to fix those bad bits. I don’t know what to do for the best. I just don’t feel like I’m living – barely existing really. I get all these ideas about what I could do, but I’m too lazy to pursue them – too tired! I’ve got no real passion anymore. Nothing that will satisfy my creativity and be an income. I want the money, but without the work. I don’t want this 9 – 5 existence, going home exhausted and only living for the weekend – why is that even a way of life? It’s soul destroying. But it’s the norm, and the easy way out I guess.”
She trailed off; thinking about everything she just released, she turned to him, wondering if she had freaked him out with her verbal unloading.
“I feel exactly the same way” he half-smiled

 

[277 words]

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Meraki – Flash Fiction

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Meraki – to do something with soul, creativity, or love; when you leave a piece of yourself in your work

*****

“This is your best work” she declared, “Just the kind of thing we want for our exhibit. Original. Exciting.”

He smiled at her as she glanced at him – the kind of smile that was forced, that took a lot of energy to muster. The second she turned back to his work, that smile quickly turned into a wince.

He was weak. Incredibly so. It pained him to move and pained him to be still. The time spent on his most recent pieces of art had certainly taken their toll upon his body; but it was worth it.

He wanted to create something that was unique; unlike anything the world had ever seen before, and to have the curator from the country’s best gallery, claiming it to be his best work, was simply the best thing ever. Years of being a failing artist were about to fade away. The blood sweat and tears that went in to it were totally and completely worth it – as were the trimmings from his hair, the clippings from his nails, and the slices of his own skin.

“It’s totally avant garde” claimed the curator

 

[208 words]

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Filed under creative writing, flash fiction, Words and their meanings

Mood Ring – Flash Fiction

 

Mood Ring Flash Fiction - Life of Fiction

Her hands were warm, unusually so, and there was something about her smile that made his stomach flip, and not in a good way.

Greeting each other as they usually did, they began walking in the direction of his parents’ house for their first meeting with her, his new girlfriend. It was the first time they would be meeting a girlfriend of his, and though he had been feeling pretty good about it – Jessica was an amazing person – he now felt a sense of unease.

As they walked hand in hand, he was very aware and conscious of the fact that there was something different about her. There were no obvious changes; she still looked the same height; her dirty blonde hair was still long, just touching the curve of her buttocks; even the trio of freckles that graced her neck were still in place; but there was something very very different about her. Something in her being had shifted; something about the way she made him feel. Something was not right.

She had been talking away whilst his mind was trying to figure out what had changed. When she came to a pause, expecting him to make some kind of response to what she had been saying, he simply blurted,

“Who are you? And where’s the real Jessica?”

Stopping in his tracks, he looked agitated and confused. “You are not the person I’ve come to know. You are not my Jessica!” He declared.

She looked into his eyes, and scrunched her mouth to one side, considering her words;

“I am Jessica. It’s just…” she trailed off.

He stood waiting for an answer to his questions, examining her face as the world rushed around them. It was her eyes – there was something different about her eyes.

“I was hoping that I’d ease you into this more gently,” she continued, “in my own time, when our relationship wasn’t still so new”

“Ease me into what?” he shuffled his feet awkwardly, placing his hands in his pockets.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke quietly, with just a hint of hesitation,

“There are things about me that can change… depending on the kind of mood that I am in. It was something I was born with. When people find out, they just think I’m some kinda freak”

He stood there pretending to consider what she had just admitted, trying not to snigger at something that sounded so absurd.

She continued, ‘So right now, I’m feeling nervous. As well as butterflies in my stomach, my hands aren’t their usual cool temperature, and my eyes have probably taken on a yellowy, orange kind of tinge.”

“So… you’re kinda like a mood ring?” he mused

She stared at him, a little unimpressed, before giggling at his suggestion;

“Yes,” she laughed, playfully hitting his chest, “exactly like a mood ring… You do not want to see me when I am angry” she pointed at him in mock warning.

Taking her unusually warm hand in his, he swung their arms as they carried on walking to his parents’ house.

He considered what he had just found out;

“Hey, if I can tell what mood you are in, I’ll know how to make you feel better. Making me the best boyfriend ever!”

 

[543 words]

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Love is Blind – Flash Fiction

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She strode across the room of the restaurant and punched him square on the nose.

People at the nearby tables stopped with forks mid air to watch this drama unfolding. Dinner and a show. She felt a teeny bit thrilled at the prospect of embarrassing him – she knew how he hated to look bad in front of others – but decided to take the rest of this interaction outside.

“I’m sorry” she half-smiled as he held tissues to his nose and tilted his head skyward.

“Yeah, where the hell did that come from? I know I dumped you and all but seriously, no need” he half smiled back to her.

Honestly, she wasn’t expecting herself to be so angry upon seeing him again. She thought she was over it, but obviously there were some residual emotions there. She watched him for a moment, and then looking around at their surroundings she began to chuckle.

“You have no clue” she stated

He looked at her from behind his wad of tissues; dazed and confused.

“About what you did to me – you have no clue”

“What I did? You brought about the end of our relationship, I just finished it properly”

He was getting defensive, as he always did. It made her sad to think that some things never changed. She liked to think that she had though – wiser, stronger, more willing to say her piece than the timid shy girl she had been when they were together. Definitely not scared to start an argument with him now.

“Y’know, I often think of how close we were to physical violence; a few more months maybe? Would it have started then?”

“What the fuck, Lucy”

“Well you definitely had the emotional abuse down Johnny”

“What? You’re crazy”

“Remember that night? The beginning of the end? It all started because you uttered the words, “If you don’t come over than you don’t love me”, that’s emotional blackmail Johnny, and what’s scary is you don’t even realise you do it”

He looked at her, not saying a word. Finally, something that made him speechless.

“I want to thank you though,” she continued, “You see I was kinda dumb to these things; some say that love is blind to faults, and it was only by you dumping me that I could begin to see clearly the kind of person you were. I saw clearly that you were a controlling, self-obsessed excuse for a man. That our relationship was surely on the edge of being deemed domestic abuse. I wanna thank you for releasing me sooner rather than later; for making me see the truth.”

She could see that he was trying to prepare an argument, his defence to dispute everything she had just said, so she calmly got up, kissed him on the cheek and walked away.

 

[472 words]

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More Than Words – Flash Fiction

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“I…” he stumbled over the next word he wanted to say. He couldn’t make the sound; felt like he wanted to choke on it.

Jenny looked at him expectantly, waiting for what he was going to say but she glanced back down at her menu when she realised he definitely wasn’t going to say it.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He had said it before – probably a million times over in the 4 years they’d been together. What was so different now?

Jenny lead the conversation throughout the course of their meal, where he could respond normally, but when a natural silence came, as usually happens, he would try again to say it, always stumbling over that one word. It was a time when he felt the need to say it, would usually say it at such moments. But now it was like the word physically repulsed him; made him gag almost.

*******

After a few days of this and wanting to say the word at least what felt like a thousand times, and not just because he couldn’t, he decided to confide in someone.

“Mom, I’m having trouble expressing a word and I don’t know why.”

“What word?” she asked, looking puzzled at such a notion,

He shuffled awkwardly and made an attempt to say it, but, as before, the word just could not be formed and spoken a loud. He growled in frustration.

“How do you feel about me, mom? and Dad?”

“Well I love you both very much, of course”

“That’s it!” he exclaimed, “That’s the word. I physically cannot say it”

“What, love?”

“Yup. Can’t say that. It’s like my mouth can’t form it. I, I want to say it, but I just can’t” His voice softened, “I haven’t been able to for days. Jenny probably thinks I’m going off her.”

“Are you sure you feel it? This could be some sort of psychological thing y’know”

“Definitely. And y’know what, I’m not overly bothered about why I can’t say it; I just need to be able to say it to Jenny. I don’t want her thinking that I’ve stopped.”

“Well, some say that actions speak louder than words. You’ll just have to show her.”

*******

He felt a bit dumbfounded. What did he usually do to show how he felt? He thought but nothing came to mind. He couldn’t think of anything he did for jenny as a show of affection – they kissed and hugged, sure, but he did nothing else. Whenever he felt love, he’d say so. He could not think of a single thing he did as a show of affection and appreciation for Jenny.

He asked himself, “What is romantic?” and when he couldn’t come up with a decent answer himself, he turned to books, and movies, and began observing other couples when he was out and about.

One day, when they were out walking the dog, he saw a couple walking hand in hand so instantly grabbed Jenny’s.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sounding unimpressed.

“Just wanted to hold your hand,” he responded, before getting a little bit defensive, “Is that a problem?”

“No,” She chuckled, “Just not something you usually do, that’s all”

She smiled and started swinging their arms as they walked along.

he noticed as they walked that she seemed brighter – an inner voice screamed at him to tell her;

“You look beautiful today Sweet,” he stated

She looked at him bemused, but didn’t say anything, just smiled.

*******

He tried a couple of different romantic gestures and they seemed to satiate Jenny when she was full of expectance, waiting for him to declare his love, but he felt like a fraud; it wasn’t natural for him. Jenny wasn’t even the kind of girl for grand gifts and public displays.

When he brought her a large bouquet of deep red roses, her face lit up, glowed even, but then took a serious look quite quickly, asking what he had done wrong, questioning his fidelity to her.

“You idiot!” he thought to himself afterwards, “Roses aren’t even her favourite”

He tried a couple of other things but each time felt like he wasn’t being genuine with her – like it was all show and no meaning.

******

A few weeks later he was at the supermarket, wracking his brains for new ideas. He was absolutely frustrated with himself. “ Who knew that words and actions were so inseparable” he thought.

He picked up the few things that they needed and when walking past the medicine aisle decided to get some tissues and throat lozenges for Jenny who was coming down with a cold.

“Thanks honey,” she murmured when he got home, “You’re so romantic”

“You think?”

“Yeah. That was a really thoughtful thing to do for me”

He smiled widely, proudly realising that romance wasn’t all big, fancy dates and grand gestures.

“I love you” he said.

*******

And whilst he was glad to be able to say it to the woman that mattered most, he never actually used it as often as he used to, enjoying the discovery of little things that filled his and Jenny’s heart with love.

After all, sometimes, actions do speak louder than words.

 

[866 words]

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Desperate Times

Deal-Making-Flash-Fiction-Story-Desperate-Times

 

He looked at her. His hair was still a mess and in the bright morning sunlight he looked more handsome and more human than she had ever seen him.

“I guess I’m asking you to trust me.” he said

Every fibre of her being knew that trusting him would be a really big mistake but she felt that this was her only option – she was desperate.

Taking a deep breath, she folded her arms and said, “OK.”

Walking across his office from her spot in the doorway, they shook hands to seal the deal.

*******

She questioned what she had just done as she walked through the streets back towards her home.

She kept telling herself that it was for the greater good, that everything will be ok now. No amount of reasoning seemed to settle her anxiety though.

It felt like a heavy stone had lodged itself at the base of her sternum; her heart beating faster in a miserable attempt to get it moved.

“It will be OK” she kept repeating to herself. After all, some say that the bad times have often got to get worse before they can get better.

But she didn’t know just when they would get better – part of the deal was that he could use her anytime, anywhere, and for any reason.

*******

When a few weeks had passed and he still hadn’t reappeared her nerves were in absolute pieces. She found herself relying on smelling salts every few hours or so just to revive herself and her senses.

In an attempt to distract, she called upon one of her sisters to come and take a walk with her.

“So what’s going on with you?” her sister asked as they strolled through the park.

“Oh, nothing; let’s not talk about my boring life, I want to know about you.” came her reply, hopefully not sounding too secretive.

Her sister went on about the little ones, and her hopes for another. They talked about childhood memories and their mother and father. The little outing proved to be a great source of distraction. That was until he appeared, as if from nowhere, in front of them.

“It’s time” he smiled at her, offering his hand as if he were a gentleman

“You know this man?” her sister queried

She stood between them like someone who had just been caught cheating at a card game; not wanting to admit the truth, but unable to think of a plausible explanation.

“I’m sorry but I have to go” she turned from her sister to follow him but her sister grabbed her arm, turning her back around.

“You can’t go with that man” she declared
“I have to. It’s the only way to make things better”

Her sister sighed, lowering her voice “He’s strange. I get a bad feeling about him – like my blood turns cold just laying eyes on him”

“I have to go, we have a deal”

“But who is he?!” her sister demanded, holding tighter to her arm

“Lucifer.”

And with that, she tore her arm from her sister’s hand and went with him – off to fulfil their deal so she could finally get what she needed for her dying son.

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