Flash Fiction Friday 146: Colours frozen in time by Chris Farley

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and forty-sixth piece in this series. This week’s is a 436-worder by Christopher Farley.

Colours frozen in time

The tattoo was the first thing I noticed; it was beautiful. She sat opposite her friend drinking Belgian beer from a huge glass and I saw it as I walked past, making my way to the men’s room.

Her thin, white arms poked out from her even whiter t-shirt, then a waterfall of colour burst from the sleeves of the t-shirt. Three lotus flowers, red, green and pink, one on top of the other. But oh, the arm. How could something so pale and delicate suffer so much pain? I returned to the bar and pretended to look at the game on the big screen. Her friend rose from the table and headed for the toilet.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help noticing your tattoo.” My God, how cliché is that, I thought. “It really is a piece of art; my compliments.”

She smiled; she’d probably heard it a hundred times before. Maybe it distracted people from looking at her; her hair, long and parted in the middle, surrounding her plain face with no make-up and devoid of colour except her azure-ice eyes. The air fell silent between us. The ladies’ toilet door swung open.

“Good choice of beer,” I nodded at her now-empty glass. “Like another?”

Her eyes flickered to her friend, who was hanging back, pretending to like football or the retro Guinness signs beside the TV set.

“My friend’s about to leave so I’ll see her out. I don’t have to leave so… yes, please.”

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Flash Fiction Friday 139: 6-word stories

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and thirty-ninth piece in this series. This week’s is the twelfth bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies! These stories will be podcasted in episode 42 (with three <500-word stories) on Sunday 27th July.

6-word stories

by Sal Buttaci – finds humor in life.

• Love our neighbors beyond hello goodbye.
• Something’s cooking; I need a plate.
• Papa was not ashamed to cry.

by Mark K – a writer?… trying hard

• When she’s pedantic try being romantic.
• If silence is golden, why talk?
• Love in a sauna burns things.

by Jon Gyngell – ginger-faced word herder

• Supposedly deaf girl hears unspoken words.
• Afterwards my doppelgänger welcomed me home.
• Dying reformed gambler coughs up cash.

by Nancy Raynsford – teaching numbers, writing words

• Books the holiday, reads the books.
• Body in locked room.  Detective solves.
• Take the test.  Tell the Dad.

by Chris Farley – searching for fictional inspiration

• I gambled with stupidity; and lost.
• One life lived fully.  Ended abruptly.
• Hussar had it. Horse heading home.

by Joanne Hayle – writes despite brain. Grateful. blessed.

• Bloodshed. He worshipped and despised her.
• Love struck, bitterly disappointed by infidelity.
• Reads determinedly to her comatose son.

by Steph Post – loves words and tattoos.

• I love your face in darkness.
• New phone under tires, glittering heartbreak.
• Your scars are stars on skin.

by Chong Teck SIM – aspiring Singaporean writer

• A woman. Cascading tears. Burnt photographs.
• College boys. Energetic music. Free-flowing beer.
• Weeping clouds. Rite of passage. Death.

and then three from yours truly… Morgen Bailey – Morgen With an E

• Getting on well, then text silence.
• Young on birth certificate – feeling old.
• Bad day, bad hair, big smile.

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Thank you, everyone.

If you’d like to submit your 6-worders (three per monthly blog post, although you can send as many as you like) or 500-word max. stories for consideration for Flash Fiction Friday take a look here.

Bailey’s Writing Tips podcast – short stories episode no.40

Bailey’s Writing Tips podcast ‘short stories’ episode number 40 went live today and contained three flash fictions and a batch of 6-worders, that have appeared on my blog as Flash Fiction Fridays. Do email me should you like to submit your own. And if you’re after writing tips, there are loads on this blog’s writing-101 page.

This episode contained: the ninth batch of 6-word stories by William Bortz, Salvatore Buttaci, Tony Tibbenham, Mark K, Steph Post, Maria, Roger Hurn, Joan H. Young, KS Tan, and yours truly, then three longer pieces:

• Drawings (255 words) by poet, short story author and blogger Jade Kennedy,
• Where There Is Hope There Is Hunger (420-words) by Chris Farley, and
• Both Sides (302 words) by yours truly, Morgen Bailey.

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See the links above to read the stories… or hear my dulcet tones on the podcast.

The podcast is available via iTunes, Google’s Feedburner, Podbean (when it catches up), Podcasters (which takes even longer) or Podcast Alley (which doesn’t list the episodes but will let you subscribe).

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Bios

Jade Kennedy is a writer of poetry, prose, flash fiction and a collector of borrowed expressions. She lives in East Yorkshire, UK.

Her poetry has been included in various zines and she is now looking to find more homes for her flash fiction.

Jade’s blog is ‘Borrowed Expressions’ at http://www.jadekennedywriter.blogspot.co.uk.

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Christopher Farley.  He lived a sheltered life in the wilds of Kent from where he was saved by the written word.  So much so that he still corresponds with certain people with A PEN AND PAPER!!

Upon moving to London, a bit like Dick Whittington, searching for streets of gold, he happened upon a beautiful Italian lady who later decided to take him to the sunny realm of southern Switzerland, where he can still be found, smiling inanely, continuously in search of Weissbier.

When he is not working or drinking he sits in front of the computer, searching for fictional inspiration. You can find Chris via his blogs http://christopherfarley.wordpress.com and http://talkingtosh.wordpress.com.

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Based in Northamptonshire, England, Morgen Bailey (“Morgen with an E”) is a prolific blogger, podcaster, editor / critiquer, Chair of NWG (which runs the annual H.E. Bates Short Story Competition), Head Judge for the NLG Flash Fiction Competition. She is also a freelance author of numerous ‘dark and light’ short stories, novels, articles, and very occasional dabbler of poetry.

Like her, her blog, https://morgenbailey.wordpress.com, is consumed by all things literary. She also recently created five online writing groups and an interview-only blog. Her debut novel is the chick lit eBook The Serial Dater’s Shopping List.

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Thank you for downloading / listening to this short story episode – I hope you enjoyed it. The next episode will be another short stories episode in four weeks’ time.

All the details of these episodes are listed on this blog’s Podcast Short Stories page and my email address to submit your stories is morgen@morgenbailey.com.

The podcast is / will be available via iTunes, Google’s Feedburner, Podbean (when it catches up), Podcasters (which takes even longer) or Podcast Alley (which doesn’t list the episodes but will let you subscribe).

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** You can now subscribe to this blog on your Kindle / Kindle app via Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com **

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything. You can contact me and find me on the internet, view my Books (including my debut novel The Serial Dater’s Shopping List, various short story collections and writer’s block workbooks) and I also have a blog creation / maintenance service especially for, but not limited to, writers. If you like this blog, you can help me keep it running by donating and choose an optional free eBook.

For writers / readers willing to give feedback and / or writers wanting feedback, take a look at this blog’s Feedback page.

As I post a spotlight or interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t unfortunately review books but I have a list of those who do. If there’s anything you’d like to take part in, take a look at Opportunities on this blog.

I welcome items for critique directly (see Editing & Critique) or for posting on the online writing groups.

Flash Fiction Friday 132: Where There Is Hope There Is Hunger by Christopher Farley

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and thirty-second piece in this series. This week’s is a 420-worder by Christopher Farley. This story will be podcasted in episode 40 (with two other stories and some 6-worders) on Sunday 25th May.

Where There Is Hope There Is Hunger

The bees were the first noticeable difference. Within just a few years there weren’t any. The pollen must have been modified in the same way the plants had been. The honey stocks fell quicker than a suicidal stockbroker after a Wall Street crash. They told us to be patient and that they would replenish the honey from laboratory stock, which they did. I don’t know what the hell it was made from but it was soft, runny and sweet, so I guess some people were happy. However, honey wasn’t the biggest problem; after all, we had sugar if we had the money to buy it. I didn’t. I just lost my sweet tooth.

At the same time, plant species started dying, and dying quicker than post-meteorite dinosaurs at that. I guess it must have been impossible to cross-pollenate something out of the test-tube, the bees must have thought so anyway. Why the government eggheads couldn’t think of it, I’ll never know; after all, it seems obvious now, doesn’t it?

However, unless you’re a vegetarian, the food-chain doesn’t stop with wheat and honey flowers. Animals in the food chain, all reliant on one another, just started disappearing, leaving only scavengers – rats and the like, to sift through the remains, and there were plenty of those.

So three years ago, I took to the mountains, where I managed to get by, living off the fruits of the forest, trapping what I could and making flour from chestnuts which helped me through the winter. It’s strange; I relocated to the mountains to try to eke out an existence while the bears and wolves moved down into the towns, looking for easy pickings, which made it perfect, for a short while anyway.

It’s now October. I haven’t even seen a squirrel, let alone eaten one, for at least four months and my stomach feels as if it’s touching my backbone. At least the water in the rivers is clean and I drink plenty of it. Wait! Water. The ocean. There have to be fish in the ocean. My stomach cramps and rumbles, and I feel a new spirit of survival running through me. Taking a swig of water, I look up at the early sprinkling of snow on the peaks far above me and doubt gnaws at me like I gnaw tree bark; this year there is little fruit and the chestnut trees are barren. Crossing this mountain range in winter would be hard at any time. It’ll be worse with no food.

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I asked Chris what prompted this piece and he said…

Flash Fiction Friday 121: No Fun in the Snow by Chris Farley

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and twenty-first piece in this series. This week’s is a 480-worder by Christopher Farley. This story will be podcasted in episode 37 (with three other stories / with two other stories and some 6-worders) on Sunday 22nd February.

No Fun in the Snow

The snow chains on the rear wheels were making for an uncomfortable ride home.  The snow had been falling for two days, a continuous, heavy fall.  However, the wind had got up over the last hour and sometimes threw it against the bus, as if trying to find a way into the warm.

Finally John heard the engine change pitch as it started up the long hill towards home.  The bus pulled in at the curb and he lowered himself to the pavement.  He waved to the driver as the doors closed with a mechanical hiss and the bus moved on into the snowy night.

Across the road, he saw a tall man, standing, topped by a flat cap, pulled down on one side of the face and he had a cigarette in his mouth, the glowing end the only animate thing about him.  John turned his face to the weather and started walking.  In the snow-broken silence, he heard a vague movement indicating the man had started walking too.

At the junction he turned left, shocked as the wind barrelled into him and snow tore into his face.  He glanced behind; the man had stopped, looking at a snowman in one of the gardens, a cigarette throwing off a small, flaring orange light beneath the cap as he looked round.  John considered confrontation but that would mean either waiting or going back and the wind, now banshee-wailing through the telephone wires, helped him decide against such a move so he started walking; the half mile or so to home would take only ten minutes even in these conditions.  He strained his ears and was not surprised to hear the sounds of the man behind, again sounding no nearer yet no further away.

Breathing hard, at the top of the road he turned into the cul-de-sac, reaching in his pocket for his house keys.  Entering the front garden, he turned to close the gate.  The man was at the end of the road he’d just walked up, looking around as if lost or confused at his surroundings.  He wasn’t confused enough not to have another lit cigarette in his mouth, John noticed, as he let himself in and locked the door behind, turning on the hall light.  He took his coat off and made his way upstairs.

He looked out the studio window.  The tall man was over the road, looking up at the window, an orange glow beneath the cap, which he now lifted, revealing a second orange glare – his eyes. A larger orange glow, the flames from the very gates of hell, appeared as he opened his mouth, laughing.  The figure crossed the road; leaving black, steaming holes in the snow, not taking his eyes from the window.  John felt his knees buckle as the front door crashed and splintered, and the first footfalls fell on the stairs.

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I asked Chris what prompted this piece and he said…

Bailey’s Writing Tips podcast – short stories episode no.35

Bailey’s Writing Tips podcast ‘short stories’ episode number thirty-five went live today and contained three flash fiction pieces that have appeared on my blog as Flash Fiction Fridays as well as another batch of 6-word stories. Do email me should you like to submit your own.

This episode contained: fourth batch of 6-word stories (by including William Bortz, Caroline Cannons, Laura Rittenhouse, Ken Magee, Mark Morris, Kimberly Sperling, Karen Bate, and yours truly), then longer flash fictions: Changing the Guard by Jane Risdon, Old Norse by Jade Kennedy, and The Third Rail by Christopher Farley.

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See the links above to read the stories… or hear my dulcet tones on the podcast.

The podcast is available via Google’s Feedburner (final item), iTunes (first item), Podbean (when it catches up), Podcasters (which takes even longer) or Podcast Alley (which doesn’t list the episodes but will let you subscribe).

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Now a little about the authors of the three longer pieces…

Jane Risdon began writing seriously three years ago after a life spent in the International Music Industry where she managed recording artists, record producers and songwriters from all over the world.

Putting her own wishes to write on hold throughout her Music career had unseen benefits in that she has garnered a wealth of material for her stories.  She now has time to write crime and mysteries and has three novels on the go at the moment.  Another is a co-written novel with an award winning author and which she hopes will be published in 2014.

Jane has also had short stories published in various anthologies in aid of charity and has another anthology due out in 2014 involving authors from across the globe.  She also writes flash fiction and those and her longer short stories have been published and pod-cast on the internet frequently.  These stories are often, but not always, crime related and she often writes humorous short stories based on her observations of characters she has met or knew in the past – heavily disguised of course.

Married to a musician and being involved in the Music Industry for many years, travelling and living in many countries including SE Asia, China, USA and Europe, Jane draws on all her experiences for her writing.

You can find out more about Jane and her writing from:

• Facebook Author page: http://www.facebook.com/JaneRisdon2
• Author Blog on WordPress: http://janerisdon.wordpress.com
• Various publications and podcasts: https://morgenbailey.wordpress.com/?s=Jane+Risdon
• I Am Woman Anthology vol 1 available: http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Woman-Anthology-Anthologies-ebook/dp/B00817P8DI / http://www.amazon.com/The-Woman-Anthology-Anthologies-ebook/dp/B00817P8DI

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Jade Kennedy is a writer of poetry, prose, flash fiction and a collector of borrowed expressions. She lives in East Yorkshire, England. She has had her poetry in various ezines including Poet and Geek, Rain Dogs, Eclectic Eel issues 1,2&3, Ether Books, Brevity Poetry Review, and included in the poetry anthology, ‘The Universe Inside’. She writes a blog – ‘Borrowed Expressions’ at www.jadekennedywriter.blogspot.co.uk and she is now looking to find more homes for her flash fiction.

Morgen: I can help you with that, Jade, take a look at https://morgenbailey.wordpress.com/submission-information/submissions-flash-fiction-short-stories. 🙂

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Christopher Farley.  He lived a sheltered life in the wilds of Kent from where he was saved by the written word.  So much so that he still corresponds with certain people with a pen and paper!!

Upon moving to London, a bit like Dick Whittington, searching for streets of gold, he happened upon a beautiful Italian lady who later decided to take him to the sunny realm of southern Switzerland, where he can still be found, smiling inanely, continuously in search of Weissbier.

When he is not working or drinking he sits in front of the computer, searching for fictional inspiration. You can find Chris via his blogs http://christopherfarley.wordpress.com and http://talkingtosh.wordpress.com.

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Thank you for downloading / listening to this short story episode – I hope you enjoyed it. The next episode will be another short stories episode in a fortnight’s time.

All the details of these episodes are listed on this blog’s Podcast Short Stories page and my email address to submit your stories is morgen@morgenbailey.com.

The podcast is available via iTunes, Google’s Feedburner, Podbean (when it catches up), Podcasters (which takes even longer) or Podcast Alley (which doesn’t list the episodes but will let you subscribe).

Flash Fiction Friday 113: The Third Rail by Christopher Farley

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and thirteenth piece in this series. This week’s is a 493-worder by Christopher Farley. This story will be podcasted in episode 35 (with three other stories / with two other stories and some 6-worders) on Sunday 29th December.

The Third Rail

It isn’t just cold, it’s damned freezing.  I haven’t my coat with me.  Why?  Because I hadn’t intended on hiding in a draughty, dilapidated tool shed at a deserted train station at 2.30 on this Arctic-like morning.  My breath fogs and my teeth chatter.  I try to stop but it’s impossible.  My feet are numb and I have to be careful not to make a noise whilst trying to rub some heat back into my body.  I went for drinks after work.  I must have had one too many as I found myself at the end of the line and no return train till the morning.  I started walking up the tracks, now sober enough to be extremely careful of that third rail.

I look out the crack in the door.  He’s still there, standing, looking up and down the platform, the platform behind which I’m hiding, freezing and praying for the first train.  When is the first train?  5am?  Is there not a staff train?  He’s not breathing fog in the frigid air, which strikes me as strange.  Not as strange as the hell-sent train that keeps passing up and down every 5 minutes or so.  Sometimes he steps into it and disappears.  The train never stops though.

I had walked about two miles up the line to the next station when I felt, rather than heard, a train coming.  Luckily I was level with the platform so I jumped up and stood inside the little waiting shelter, to see if it would stop.  It didn’t.  That wasn’t all though; I could see through it.  A sick, jaundiced yellow light lit the interior but I could see the other platform through the train.  I thought it was the booze.  After it passed, I made my way along the platform when I heard it return.  I discovered the shed and hid inside.  Lucky really, because the man appeared on the other platform, he just stepped out as the train shot by.  He was looking for something.  Me?