Tag: Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction

Demonstration of Power

~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 1 Comment
Reading Time: < 1 minute

They predicted the dams would keep generating power for up to a year without any maintenance so long as the supporting infrastructure remained intact.

Strung for the celebration where Phil announced his retirement after 34 years in the Corps and where his daughter Millena had quietly taken him aside to double his joy with the news of his first grandchild (relieving his anxiety about ways to fill his newfound time), the lights in the back garden hadn’t begun their slow fade from bright white to coppery yellow until a full nineteen months later.

No-one remained to witness the demonstration of power’s unexpected longevity.

 

Photo by Nick de Partee via Unsplash
For Three Line Tales, Week 64 by Sonya

From Beneath the Black Hood

~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 4 Comments
Reading Time: < 1 minute

The robe slipped down his back. His scars startled me, three ripples stretching from shoulder to waist. Sliced, lashed, or perhaps scratched by some three-fingered beast.

Respect didn’t sway my mission. My lips pursed and blew.

Falling, his hand raised to the sting in his neck.

I bowed silently into the shadows.

 

For Sacha Black’s #writespiration 52 word challenge: The Girl That Wore the Black Hood
Original penciled art by Carl Bystrom

15 Minutes #writespiration

~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 3 Comments
Reading Time: < 1 minute

I waited outside the storage room door.

“Hi.” Maybe nervous or surprised that I actually came. “15 minutes..”

She unlocked and led me inside.

Breath catching as my hands wrapped her waist, her face turned up and back towards mine, hungry, urgent.

We fumbled, kissed, caressed.

“The best break ever,” she whispered.

For Sacha Black’s #writespiration 52 word challenge: The Break
Original photo art by Carl Bystrom

Beezle Keeper

~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 15 Comments

Reading Time: < 1 minute

Hazel rattled the gate.

“Don’t do that,” her little brother scolded. “The bees’ll come.”

“The Beezle?” She mocked back. “Is that a monster?”

“No,” he replied frowning. “The bees in those boxes. They’ll sting us.”

Hazel peered at the cubes standing in the yard. Maybe they were hives. Maybe someone dressed in white coveralls and a mask collected honey every morning. She’d never seen them. Her whole life the place stood empty.

“You better just hush up or the Beezle’s gonna get you!”

*

In the windowless basement of the abandoned mansion, as if manifested by a magic word, something stirred.

Written for Friday Fictioneers  organized by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. 100 words. Photo prompt.
To see other’s responses to the prompt go here.
PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Meat Market #3LineTales

Quality Meats in Neon
~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 10 Comments

Reading Time: < 1 minute

The pungent sting of the ink twitched his nostrils (black always seemed to go to his head) but Daniel waved the marker under his nose for a moment before recapping.

He flicked the switch and the neon fluttered, the electric buzz looming large then receding quickly into the hum of the morning as he hung the Special.

Her eyes flashed an emerald green and Daniel cocked an eyebrow with his smile but her forehead furrowed as she walked past, transforming his grin to a sneer: “Probably a vegetarian.”

Photo by Cathal Mac an Bheatha via Unsplash
For Three Line Tales, Week 60 by Sonya

Atmospheric Entrance #3LineTales

~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 3 Comments

Reading Time: < 1 minute

Even though everyone had perished, including Bess, the only creature in this universe that he’d ever truly trusted, Davis swore on the dawning star that he would go home again.

As he peered out at wings unfolding, preparing for a descent through clouds of who-knew-what toward a landing who-knew-where, Davis swallowed his embarrassment, choked on his grief, and studied the bitter taste of his fear.

He swirled the tang of panic and terror around his tongue, searching for sweet or earthy or musk, some note he might learn to savor but, plummeting through the mist, he tasted only sour.

Wait, is that all? Nope! Click to read more in the World Eater sequence.
Photo by Brian Gaid via Unsplash
Three Line Tales, Week 59

Tock

~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 26 Comments

Reading Time: < 1 minute

The wheel stood since the beginning. Dense, epic, and ancient before time, the world grew up around it. The center of everything, really: the halo of clear white sky, the arc of history, cultivation, and community. The entire enterprise.

Over time, we disremembered. It’s centrality lost and it’s soul objectified, our revere faded first to respect, then acceptance, then finally disregard. It became a relic, then a monument, a sculpture, then a toy. A plaything for children.

Until the day it turned.

Then everything we’d forgotten came crashing back.

Written for Friday Fictioneers  organized by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. 100 words. Photo prompt.To see other’s responses to the prompt go here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

 

The Entire Sea #microfiction

~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 12 Comments

Reading Time: 2 minutes

“Tell me about your home.”

“Nazarai?” Azi queried back, knowing it wasn’t the answer she wanted.

“No,” Meredith responded, “your true home.”

Azi, compelled by the magics woven through their bones, would always give Meredith what she wanted. “I was born on a water moon.”

Meredith raised her eyebrows. “Island dwellers?”

“No islands,” Azi said. ”Not that I can recall. Just water. My tribe were nomads. Pirates, maybe. I was taken before my tenth turn so my memories are vague.” Continue reading “The Entire Sea #microfiction” →

Dope #3LineTales

~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 3 Comments

Reading Time: < 1 minute

She’d found him, finally, and pulled the crumpled bills from her pocket in small wads and pushed them through the wire, grateful.

Moments later, her cheek pressed into the chain-link as four hands frisked and groped her then pried the small, damp baggie out of her white-knuckled fist.

Her benefactor stood silent, watching as he looked away.

Photo by Jake Oates via Unsplash
Three Line Tales, Week 58

 

Bad Air #writephoto

~ carlbystrom@live.com ~ 14 Comments

Reading Time: 2 minutes

“Damn,” Meredith’s disappointment felt unwarranted. She’d noticed the signs even before shuttling to the surface, but they’d made the descent anyway. This wasn’t the debris of a Solar swarm. Something other than those bastard Locusts had destroyed this world.

“Not what we were looking for?” Azi chimed, their tone knowing. Continue reading “Bad Air #writephoto” →