Flash Fiction Friday 191: 6-word stories batch 44

May 26, 2017May 24, 2017Leave a comment

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and ninety-first piece in this series. This week’s is the forty-fourth bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies!

6-word stories

by Asra Choudhury – thinker, feeler, aspiring writer

Whiskey, jazz, sleepless night; playing solo.
Fire, water, wind, earth – distant reality.
I played your rules to lose.
Profanity thus became the absolute endgame.
Epitaph: finally she found her home.
Crimson, could be blood or love.
Take my doppelganger – she collects souls.
You and I complete the yin-yang.
I kiss my prince, the frog.

by Carol Pryke – trying hard to write.

He went. He won. So good.
He loved and lost, then cried.
Storms, wind. Vast damage. Eventually calm.
Sunbathing, burning, swimming, cooling off, drowning.
Wedding dress. Driving too fast. Shroud.
Church. Vows. Speeding. Morgue. Shroud.
Slipping. Sliding. Submerging. Sinking. Sunk.
Father’s gun. Murdered spouse. Hangman’s noose.
Stealing sweets. Robbing banks. Prison cell.
Edit. Delete. Send. Rejection. Write.

by Chong Teck SIM – Singapore, Bookworm, Volunteer

Huge lighting flashes. Shaking in bed.
Walking cane. Uneven ground. Tense muscles.
Flu season. New strain. Packed hospitals.
First-time model. Jittery bugs. Runway mishap.
Precocious student. Multi lingual education. Sought after translator.
Male model. Aquamarine eyes. Screaming fans.
Charity event. Bad economy. Few donors.
A creeping shadow advances. Loud screams…
Failed automobile business. Drinking until morning.
Classical Chinese. Beginner’s level. Already confusing.

by Mark K – a writer? Trying hard.

Humpty Dumpty’s a really good egg.
Rolex TV, you gotta watch it.
Snap crack ’n’ pop. Osteopath fails.
Wanna break bones? Let’s get cracking.
Boomerangs’ return, and so will I.
He tumbled harder than Jericho’s walls.
Eyes sting? Don’t snort chilli… Fool.”
“Speak louder please, I have tinnitus.”
A priest will always cross you.
Is there anybody there? Yeah. A ghost.

by Peggy Schimmelman – writer, poet, dribbler, drabbler

He forgot his dirty laundry, witch.
Surprise sixtieth birthday party? Celebrate this.
Your wife died of boredom, sir.
Back it up next time, crybaby.
Sorry, honey. Stolen husbands aren’t returnable.

by Rehanna writes to silence internal chatter

Attempted a five-word story! Failed. Grr.
I came, I saw, I fled.
She sells seashells… he crushes them.
Their eyes met. Then slid apart.
Once, a Londoner spoke while commuting!
One, two, three, four – I forgot.
You think this is a story?
‘Once upon a time’, she began.
‘Drop the gun! Ow, my toe.’
A six-word restriction can inspire trepidation.

by Steve Lodge – writer specialising in gibberish

His sinister visitor wasn’t even odd.
She is learning a new language.
This is exactly what it seems.
Draw me closer, nibble my ear.
Ice skating makes my teeth itch.
Let me caress your gorgeous shoulders.
Let me look into your eyes.
I would rather not eat courgettes.
Bad planning never made life easy.
Several hours later, he made toast.

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

Country House Rescue. Epitome of Britain.
Underrated medium. Lost weight. Became small.
Shooting. TV documentary? No, murder.

Thank you, everyone.

If you’d like to submit your 6-worders (up to ten per blog post, although you can send as many as you like and I’ll either pick the best ones or if I like most / all of them, schedule ahead) and / or 500-word max. stories for consideration for Flash Fiction Friday take a look here.

Flash Fiction Friday 190: 6-word stories batch 43

March 31, 2017May 23, 20172 Comments

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and ninetieth piece in this series. This week’s is the forty-third bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies!

6-word stories
by Alyssa Drake, helping readers lose themselves

Forever yours; carved into forgotten trees.
Squealing, joyful peals of bubble-filled delight.

by Chong Teck SIM, Singapore, Bookworm, Volunteer

A single story with eight six-worders…

Badminton fanatic; musician wannabe: my brother.
His 21st birthday: a surprise waited.
Nervously, he introduced his beloved Lee.
Loud gasps resonated throughout the room.
Unperturbed, I congratulated the brave couple.
Breaking barrier, more wishes came forward.
Their eyes began to tear up.
A new love story was born.

by Jeanette O’Donnal, happiness guru, cryptic writer

United States President Trump impeached today.
New York weatherman flies west. Killed.
Kansas serial killer captured near victim.
Calculated guess proves accurate for mathematician.
Dead mermaid found beached in Florida.
Childless woman flees with sister’s baby.
Underground military base explodes in Huachuca.
Famous scientist incarcerated for criminal activity.
Ancient frozen woman thawed and lives!
Motherless child stabs sister, kills father.

by Laura Winkeslpecht, writer, poet, thinker, interested

Daughter texting; now she bikes everywhere.
Math test: gunshots equal classmates screaming.
Ultrasound appointment. Then trip to realtor.
High school dropout develops dishpan hands.

by Mark K – writer? Trying very hard…

with some Liverpool fax ‘facts’ (written and shared in jest, we really love the city and its people!)

Liverpool’s most popular boy’s name = Nick!
English translators needed in the Wirral
The Beatles scarpered! So did Cilla!
Sheffield = Steel industry: Liverpool = Steal industry
Liverpool’s building boom = much bigger jails.
Even fleas don’t stay in Liverpool

by Mayoli Mier – galaxy walking time traveler.

Caution: emotions fragile. Handle with care.
Love decided. Hearts collided. Wrong person.
Yearn for her. Think of me.
I can’t forget your soft lips.
Eyes closed, I jump. You cry.
Constantly complying can cause quicksand feet.
Do you remember me? No. (Yes..)

by Steve Lodge – genetically addicted to words…

Write me a sick note, Dad.
Tigers hide for a sinister reason.
Have you met Santa this year?
I’m slightly tired of old omelettes.
Search the Cave Of Golden Light.
I’m sure nothing costs that much.
Have you ever ridden a rhino?
That’s not even a real word.
What made you learn the ukelele?
Horrible dream I had last night.

by Terry Tripp – writer, artist, and teacher.

We’re all going to die. Tomorrow.
We made out. Now it’s over.
My childhood sandbox has cat poop.
Ghosts push me on the swing.
Thirty devoted years working. Now unemployable.
Still waiting for the one.
“I quit.” “I won’t.” “Kiss me.”
Not mine. I want it anyways.
We used to stay up late.
Santa, Easter Bunny, you… all real.

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

Penny Eleanor Lane. Avid Beatles fan.
Cat purring until he’s had enough.
Disliked LGBT until he finally realised…

Thank you, everyone.

Flash Fiction Friday 188: 6-word stories batch no.42

February 24, 2017March 2, 20171 Comment

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and eighty-eighth piece in this series. This week’s is the forty-second bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies!

6-word stories

by Chong Teck SIM, Singapore, Bookworm, Volunteer

(and his single story with five six-worders)…

Life: inseparable couple exuding sweet nectar.
Death: minutes apart into Heaven’s embrace.
Paradise: carefree living, together into eternity.
Affenpinschers: my companions for a decade.
Memory: yesteryears etch into my heart.

by Mark K – writer? Trying very hard…

with some 6 word worries whilst wandering home.

Night arrives quickly, blankets the park.
Dark shadows slide between the trees
Feather-like, a cold mist drifts down
Underfoot the crisp grass crunches
Drizzle soaks through me, I shudder.
My cloudy breath warms my face
Deep in pockets my hands sting
A little drunk I stumble on.
I’m lost, took a wrong turning
Now I’m alone, there’s only me.

by Jeanette O’Donnal, happiness guru, cryptic writer

Country club queen: lovely, luscious, lonely.
Favorite dessert kills child: parents guilty
Boomerang returns with answers: mystery solved
Courageous cat retrieves drowning field mouse
Pastor captured: bullied child reveals abuse
Lightning strikes tree: slumbering farmer killed
Anaconda found in cave: treasures discovered
Clandestine efforts prove effective: child found

by Steve Lodge – he pens and inks…

A nursing home for retired astronauts.
Treat me like your hound dog.
Don’t try confusing me with facts.
Hi, I’m Paul Savagely, yawning ferociously.
I’m dancing darkly with silent stealth.
Restful peace is an empty bladder.
You hear so many crazy things.
She had skin like a dolphin.
Waters whispering, new horizons in sound.
A dismal monologue, spoken in code.

by Trista, Canadian-born explorer and cat tamer.

Man’s best friend, can keep secrets.
Dad’s garden, harvested from his ashes.
Ouija boards toy with the dead.
My element: two hydrogen, one oxygen.

by Willard Sheen – insouciant but never louche

Procrastinator! Me? Now wait a minute…

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

A daily detox… for my hair.
Blind man, naked woman, old joke.
Sweeping away trouble… the murderer’s cleaner.

Thank you, everyone.

Flash Fiction Friday 186: 6-word stories batch 41

January 27, 2017January 27, 2017Leave a comment

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and eighty-sixth piece in this series. This week’s is the forty-first bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies!

6-word stories

by Chong Teck SIM, Singapore, Bookworm, Volunteer

Winter chill. Hot chocolate. Homely comfort.
Cute gift: snowman boxers. Endless laughter.
Bearded man carrying presents: my papa.
Frozen lake. Snow-capped mountain. Winter paradise.
Winter storm. Cheerful snowmen. Depressed villagers.
Frosty night. Hearty gulyás. Immense gratitude.
Ham. Pudding. Dinner with girlfriend.

by David A Jones – author and alliterator

Write a six-word story? That’s impossible!
Gone to be a hermit. Goodbye.
It rained. Floods came. Washed away…
The spy’s mission was secret. End.
It’s dark. Can’t see to write…
This message has been encrypted: xxxxxxxxxx

by Mark K – writer? Trying hard.

Bald headed men have many hats.
Changing nappies is a crappy job.
“How am I?… Do you care?”
“Liar! Deceiver!” “I am a banker.”
Smoke goes upward. So do bills.
Liar liar pants on fire. Aaargh!
“That’s no girl; that’s a ladyboy.”
Bees buzz. Cows moo. You moan.

by Steve Lodge – bewildered by long words

Sorry I sneezed in your handbag.
Tuesdays, I smear myself with yoghurt.
This is fantastic. You inspire me.
I love the Theme From Shaft.
The corridor and stairs squeaked harmoniously.
Foam wasn’t spilt in a tray.
Through the whispers of a dream.
I’m having bouts of turbulent thrust.
Aboard the kraft, I found cheese.
The lost constellation exploded in August.

212 full moon 812706 Will Bly’s writing makes you think

A penguin flew into a cliff.
The smug goblin shrunk angrily.
We ate. Got sick. Ate more.
The moon split and smiles appeared.

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

Synchronised swimmer’s smile… meeting estranged mother.
Scary clown afraid of young children.
Weekly Starbucks meeting. Don’t like coffee. 😦

Thank you, everyone.

BREAKING NEWS!!!

I wrote a crime lad lit novella (48,000 words) called Hitman Sam in 2008 and over the years, edited it, left it to marinate, re-edited it, put it back, then finally this year (2016), I edited it again and sent it to my beta readers who were kind enough to give me their feedback which led to more alterations and finally, on November 2nd, it was published!

It is available for 99c / 99p (or the equivalent in your country) via http://mybook.to/HitmanSam (links to Amazon in your country) or directly via Amazon.co.uk, Amazon.com etc. but before you rush over to purchase this quirky novella, do read on to find out more about it…

Blurb: Newly-redundant software designer Sam Simpson is looking for a new adventure – a cryptic advert in his local paper gives him that, and more. With two women vying for his affection, going behind their backs isn’t the smartest things he’s ever done.

This follows on just a month after my crime mystery novella, After Jessica, was published. Yay! Details below…

The second book I wrote, back in 2009, was After Jessica, a crime mystery novella published in October 2016. You can download this novella for just 99c / 99p via http://mybook.to/AfterJessica (which links to the Amazon page in your country) or directly from Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com etc.

Tagline: Wind up his late sister’s affairs, Simon gets more than he bargains for.

Blurb: Jessica is an ordinary girl who comes across extraordinary circumstances and pays for them with her life. As well as identifying her body, her brother Simon then has to wind up her affairs but gets more than he bargains for. Who is Alexis, and why are Veronica and Daniel searching for her? Why is there a roll of cash in Jessica’s house, and what’s the connection between Simon’s sister and Alexis?

Flash Fiction Friday 185: December’s 6-word stories

December 30, 2016December 29, 2016Leave a comment

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and eighty-fifth piece in this series. This week’s is the fortieth bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies!

6-word stories

by A Choudhury – not necessarily a writer

Disposable heart. Leaves no residue. Guaranteed.
So far no regrets. The end.
Close your eyes. Here I am.
The minutes became years, dreaming still.
They savored all but my bones.
One day I will wake up.
A moth flew in. It’s time.
Death, I only needed you once.

by Amanda – certified nuts and a dreamer.

Kaleidoscope pills sing a siren’s song.
“Not possible!” rebuked the ticket agent.
Kay screamed “STOP!” Voices circled within.
Sorrow blanketed all that was left.
Kay frowned as she tumbled down.
Anger rose like a spring storm.

by Bil Howard – storyteller and ghostwriter extraordinaire.

He dispensed ample doubt; withheld hope.
Abandoned and cold; she aspired upward.
He should have leapt, he plummeted.
Discarding history’s soot, she crossed over.
“Before anything,” he responded. “I am.”

by Chong Teck SIM, Singapore, Bookworm, Volunteer

Sunny sky. Warm breezes. Tropical Christmas.
Beneath the mistletoe: loving couple kisses.
Cheeky Rudolf. Annoyed elves. Snowball fight.
Breaking news: Scrooge kisses Santa’s wife.
Deadline looming. Overworked elves. Anxious Santa.
Christmas Eve. Snow storm. Cancelled flights.
Christmas day. Falling snow. Pensive mood.
Red wine. Yule log. Christmas supper.
Boxing Day: I became a mother.
31st December. Pet budgerigar: “Pay up!”
1st January: new adventures await me.
New Year: new boss, new headaches.
New Year morning. Skiing with family.
On his knees: ‘Marry me?’

by Leslie Norris – deep thinker by night

They enforced all laws avoiding empathy.

by Miriam Isabelle – right on the line

And we dream again at twilight.
He’s got nothing left. He dances.
He sounded like Rachel’s littlest girl.
Fill up my glass once more.
You’ve been here your whole life.
I haven’t been here long enough.
Tell me you’re sorrier than her.
I’m sorry you feel that way.
New sights, but same old me.
I wear her skin and hair.

by Mark K – a writer? Trying hard.

Six word quotes for the asylum: part 2

I have a friend called Lucifer.
What’s my favourite past-time? peeling cats!
The sharper the axe the better.
Demonic possession is real you know?
You’ve never hung anyone?… I have.
Cadaver… What a wonderful, wonderful word.
I was married once… she died.
Without legs; captives can’t run away.

by Steve Lodge, writes like a ventriloquist

It was time for his medication.
Very rare but, also, quite common.
Complaining with no solution is whining.
They arrived in Utopia. Hated it!
Monsters lurk between fact and bullshit.
That’s when our dreams come true.
The man who ate too much.
When he breathed, one nostril whistled.
Unexpected romantic possibilities, favourite fruit: lychee.
Excellent Plan B. Plan A sucked.

and then four from yours truly… Morgen Bailey, Morgen With an E

Hot date ahead. Flying to Bali.
Loving the judges: Rinder and Judy.
The cat sleeps on… lucky thing.
Hot chocolate and Bailey’s, warming. Hic!

Thank you, everyone.

BREAKING NEWS!!!

This follows on just a month after my crime mystery novella, After Jessica, was published. Yay! Details below…

Tagline: Wind up his late sister’s affairs, Simon gets more than he bargains for.

Flash Fiction Friday 184: The Height of the Storm by Stephen Lodge

December 23, 2016Leave a comment

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and eighty-fourth piece in this series. This week’s is a 492-worder by Stephen Lodge.

The Height of the Storm

They stood in the study of the great house, looking out of the large window towards the back patio and the deep woodland beyond. Susan and her brother, Tony, were piecing together the events of the previous night.

The moon had been full, the storm at its height, lightning, thunder, torrential rain. Mother aged ninety but well built, had been in bed, heavily sedated and restrained. She must have awoken and persuaded the maid to release her from the restraints, despite Susan’s strict instructions.

Mother drew strength from these storms. Once free from the ties that bound her, she strangled the maid, threw open the French windows and proceeded out onto the rain-lashed patio, then wandered off into the woods.

Susan’s husband, Gary, found Mother lying like a crumpled tissue near the cabin in the woods, sound asleep with a peaceful smile on her face, as he set off to bury the maid. This was the third maid Mother had strangled.

“I don’t know how long we can keep a lid on Mother’s behaviour, Tony. The maid agency are getting suspicious for a start and now this.” She passed him an envelope. “It came in the mail.”

“Blackmail?” Tony wailed. “No, wait! This is Uncle Lionel’s writing.”

Inadvertently, they looked at the uppermost window on this side of the house, where Uncle Lionel lived with that dreadful wife of his, whose name they couldn’t remember. They’d stayed there since his last scheme had failed, when the train he had hired to shift diamonds across some border plunged down a ravine, sabotaged by Lost Omelette Tribesmen.

Tony could tell Susan was at the edge of her temper, her legendary composure gone. “This is Lionel trying to finance another dopey scheme. Ooh, I want to just march up there and kick him and his ghastly wife Jazziebel, Jobetta… Jonoria.”

Tony shook his head. “I thought her name began with a vowel.”

Gary made his way up the patio towards the house. He was covered in mud and used the shovel as a walking stick. He was after all nearly seventy.

“I’m too old for this, Susan,” he told her, when in earshot. “Your mother has got to stop killing the staff.” Tony gave Gary the letter.

“This is Lionel’s writing.” Gary said, confirming Tony’s thoughts. “See it often enough on those stupid yellow notes he leaves everywhere.” He read it aloud, laughing. “Leave 50,000 cash inside the cabin. Tell no one. I saw what you did the other night in those woods.”

“Of course the idiot saw what happened in the woods the other night. I asked him to help me with the body. The second maid was a heavy lass. Let barking dogs lie, darling. I took a precautionary photo on my hand phone of him and Lily helping with the body.”

“Lily?” Susan asked. “Who’s Lily?”

“Lionel’s wife.” replied Gary.

Susan and Tony both shook their heads. “No, that’s not her name.”

I asked Stephen what prompted this piece and he said…

Drawn from the desire to build a story around a sprawling British mansion, from a bygone age, peopled by family members who appear to be totally out of their depth coping with a dominant matriarch within the grounds and little idea what goes on in the outside world.

Christmas is one of the times of year that I miss the UK the most. My thoughts are with family and friends there, so a good time for a story set there.

Thank you, Stephen.

Stephen Lodge is a wandering minstrel from London, now based in Singapore. He is responsible for a number of published short stories, plays and skits, poems/lyrics and has co-written a film screenplay.

Steve spends most of his time writing, acting on TV, theatre and in independent films, playing in a band and doing comedy improv.

If you’d like to submit your 6-word or 500-word max. stories for consideration for Flash Fiction Friday take a look here.

Flash Fiction Friday 182: latest 6-word stories

October 28, 2016Leave a comment

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and eighty-second piece in this series. This week’s is the thirty-eighth bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies!

6-word stories

by Chong Teck SIM – aspiring Singaporean writer

with a single story written in ten 6-worders

He looks at her, smiling bright.
Holding a stem, he approaches her.
Puzzled, she stares into his eyes.
She asks: where’s the pretty flower?
You, says he, pointing to her.
She turns shy, blushes, scarlet cheeks.
Your beauty invigorates me, says he.
She feels light-headed, in a dream.
He takes her hand, kisses it.
Cheesy but love it, says she.

by Stephen Lodge, writer with coloured crayons

Armour is on. Let battle commence.
Canal water stew this wintry eve.
I’m so happy to know you.
You’re such fun to arm wrestle.
Don’t play those games with me.
I’m hoping she won’t show up.
It’s not easy, interviewing a giraffe.
Storm caused abandonment of farting competition.
There’s nothing stranger than his beard.
I’m Paul Savagely, gun for hire.

by storyteller Paul, United States, Unpublished author

Love is a four letter word.
America Voted. Who won? All Lost.
The envelope read: To occupant – Deceased
Mum always said…God never blinks.
Satan slept. Hatred ceased. Peace reigned.
Halloween night, no masks were found.
Donald trumpeted. Hillary lied. World wept.
I Do. Shortest sentence ever spoken.
I Do. Longest promise ever kept.

by Chad M. Horn: still (mostly) alive

Chickenhearted Story: (hen) pecked at typewriter
In search of yourself? Inquire within…
unzip, losing grip, slip, strip, {censorship}
“I DO!” became “WE DON’T”. Done.
Hi! (no reply). Why? (sigh). Bye…
Poem penned, hit ‘SEND’. Rejected. End.

by William Jackson — Theatre, India, Bohemia, Academia.

Freedom’s fluidity revealed our souls’ longings.

by Emily Vieweg, poet, educator, single mom.

Daughter’s costume trade: “Princess” for “President”

by Alicia Cole creates in Huntsville, Alabama.

Healing: a slow land of naps.
Dogs win. People are barking mad.

by Mark K – a writer? Trying hard.

Stupid things to say to a cage fighter: part 3

I honestly thought you were female.
You smell like a garbage truck.
So, I’m fighting a total dork?
My wife hits harder than that.
My, my you look awfully angry?
With those gums, you shouldn’t smile.
You could never choke me out!
Get off me you hairy ape!
Do your friends call you Nancy?

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

Watching ‘First Dates’, suddenly feeling unloved.
What a tart! Cat lying akimbo.
Having no expectations but pleasantly surprised.

Thank you, everyone.

Continue reading →

Flash Fiction Friday 181: batch 37 of 6-word stories

September 30, 2016September 28, 20161 Comment

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and eighty-first piece in this series. This week’s is the thirty-seventh bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies!

6-word stories

by Chong Teck SIM – aspiring Singaporean writer

Swollen lips. Wheezing. Bad food allergy.
My fried egg: burnt. Speechless mother-in-law.
Night out with buddies. Unhappy wife.
The breakup scarred him for life.
His eyes; Her eyes: inter-locking embrace.
Huge waves. Frightened cruise passengers.
A loud crash. Screaming voices.
Dark alleyway. Growling dogs. Defensive snake.
Bad-tempered crab. Curious human: Ouch! Ouch!
Colourful birds. Playful cats. Hide-and-seek ensues.

by Mark K – a writer? Trying hard.

Awkward things that kids sometimes say (usually in front of other people):

Mummy, what does brazen hussy mean?
Daddy, are you really my daddy?
Grandma says Daddy drinks too much.
Mummy says Daddy needs some viagra.
Grandad, what is a reverse vasectomy?
Auntie Violet, what is a hooker?
I saw Uncle Morris kissing Mummy.
I found Mummy’s special toy yesterday.
Granny, when are you gonna die?

by Stephen Lodge – scribbler addicted to cheese (my kind of man!)

He was gassy throughout the day.
It’s not something I shall forget.
Hi there. Nice to be here.
Walking home singing a dirty song.
A chilly but quite beautiful morning.
You inspire me to play dominoes.
It’s nice to see such kindness.
That makes no sense at all.
Do you have a liquorice licence?
No, stranger. This isn’t Easy Street.

by asra choudhury – hungry for fiction stories

I run after you, unsullied soul.
“Come, sit,” says shadow of death.
Sullen, I search for you, soul.
Forgetting the fight I redial – wife.
The crinkled hand holding the rose.
Epilogue: she disappeared into the horizon.

by Ansuya – born to create and share

Writer lost the plot, needs inspiration!
Attractive lady sought to walk poodle.
Stopped for coffee, late again… fired!
Conman disappeared with girlfriend’s fake diamonds.
A quinquagenarian ballet dancer retires poor.
Skived off work, for sanity’s sake.
Lived to eat cakes, sweet joy.
Free food, bed, bad company – prison!

and then some from yours truly… Morgen Bailey, Morgen With an E

Mum-sitting for a week; limits pushed.
Glad to be home, cat too.
Stressful times, nails shorter than before.

*** Breaking news! My online creative writing courses are currently half price and one FREE! ***

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Flash Fiction Friday 180: batch 36 of 6-word stories

August 26, 2016August 26, 20162 Comments

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and eightieth piece in this series. This week’s is the thirty-sixth bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies!

6-word stories

by Chong Teck SIM – aspiring Singaporean writer

Moonless night. Howling dogs. Quick footsteps.
No… no… I didn’t tell tales!
Foreign investor. Local businessman. Conflicting priorities.
Hidden talent: I’m a bathroom crooner.
Chocolate cake: for Pinkie, my Chihuahua.
In tears, he returned the ring.
Big appetite. Ten burgers. Still hungry.
Slippery floor. I fell, face down.
He follows her from a distance.
Heavy rain. Mother searching for child.

by Mark K – a writer? Trying hard.

Why I want to be a Cossack…

They remind me of Chelsea Pensioners.
They have old, wrinkly members too.
I’d look absolutely gorgeous in red!
Cossacks find love wherever they go.
Cossack women are drop dead gorgeous.
Cossack regiments have no height restrictions.
Ballet Dancers eat your heart out.
You often find them imitating Monty-Python.
Rasputin had a secret Cossack son.

by Stephen Lodge – writer ignored by progress

Over time, my caress became careless.
Owls and rabbits never wear shirts.
Amadeus made great music and cheese.
I don’t think she likes me.
Cheese fondling is my favourite hobby.
Don’t think I got that memo.
I look forward to your call.
Was it all a crazy dream?
I can’t imagine this ending well.
I’m still wandering the eastern dream.

by Lana Bella, skull-grinder bacon commander

Silence moves with ease between gossips.
I bowed my spine across nostalgia.
She peels coffee from my breaths.
Night gives gradient across the floorboard.
Innocence nests from pavement to street.
I down the hot Vienna black.
Wild hips walk this quiet room.
You spent a lifetime looking back.
I romanced your ghost with whisky.
He always volunteered, she reflected bitterly.

BAM has other works available online.

Forgot puppies surprises needed air holes.
The only word that matters, “Yes.”
Returned the ring after the funeral.
Deleted her messages; just need memories.
Shut off lights or thousands die.
To earn sunrises: Climb more mountains.
“You can do it, dude. Jump.”
Falling from ten stories looked painful.
“Sorry I was late. Another jumper.”
Alcohol and sliding doors don’t mix.

Debbie, who meant to start writing sooner

He always volunteered, she reflected bitterly.

by asra choudhury – nightbird on a roll

Guard your angels, summer moon swings.
Nervous lovers. First timers. Memory blues.
Our eyes locked, time lapsed eternity.
“Don’t go,” I said. He continued.
Submit, like sunflowers to the sun.

by Ansuya – tumbling curls hides indomitable spirit

‘Sorry no money’ said the atm.
Purse stolen, smashed iPhone, lost day!
No food, no drink, lousy diet.
Menopausal women seeks adventurous young man.
She walked in, her first stalker.
‘Hi I’m Sue.’ ‘Geoff. Let’s dance.’
No hanging around in Marble Arch.
Sugar free craze drives Cadburys meltdown.
Lost cat, take care of him.
‘Mum where’s Dad?’ ‘He’s disappeared darling.’

and then some from yours truly… Morgen Bailey, Morgen With an E

Crunch: recession? No. I’m eating carrots.
Annie, I’m not your daddy. Sex-change.
August becomes September, new 6-word submissions.

*** Breaking news! My online creative writing courses are currently half price and one FREE! ***

I now run online courses – details on Courses – and for anyone looking for an editor, do take a look at Editing and Critique.

Flash Fiction Friday 178: batch 35 of 6-word stories

July 29, 2016July 30, 20168 Comments

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the one hundred and seventy-eighth piece in this series. This week’s is the thirty-fifth bunch of 6-word stories by a variety of authors, together with their 6-word biographies!

6-word stories

by Chong Teck SIM – aspiring Singaporean writer