Daily Flash Fiction Stories
By Karin Rumie
For the first time since leaving Reykjavik, I relaxed my grip on the wheel of the tiny Fiat. My tension faded like the heavy clouds that had hovered over me.
The agent had given me an umbrella with the car keys. “Iceland summers,” she’d said with a blinding smile. There’s that collective Icelandic cheer, I thought, recalling the term my mother coined last time we were here.
[Read more…] about Return to IcelandOopsie.
Is it cleaning day again? I’m so sorry, Marjorie. I would’ve forewarned you if I’d remembered. No, no, please come on in. There’s no need to reschedule. I’ll just finish my sandwich while I explain, and you can go ahead and start cleaning the kitchen if you’re able to tear your eyes away from Stephen. Really, it’s too bad you had to see this.
[Read more…] about Not Too NaughtyBy Phoebe Thomson
The ash tree outside our flat was cut down that morning when we told my mum that Jan was pregnant. We spoke to her on Facetime. “The tree was sick for ages,” I said.
“All we can see now is gray,” Jan said. “The birds will stop coming to our windows.”
[Read more…] about AllergiesIt might’ve been okay if Dad hadn’t said four times how serious they had to act at the airport checkpoint: “—very, very, very, very serious.” Four was Jamie’s worst number. He wished Dad had stopped at three.
It might’ve been okay if Jamie’s heart wasn’t thumping or if he hadn’t asked so many questions on the car ride, but the four had been too much, he couldn’t stop:
[Read more…] about Very, Very, Very, Very SeriousBy Annie Gough
There’s a wall at the top of a hill, the same hill that the castle sits on, that used to give me the fear. Would give all us weans the fear, me and Robbie and Amy and Wee Marcus. It was a monster wall, you see. I didn’t believe it was real until I saw it for myself. Robbie had gone up and seen it first, with his big brother.
“I’m telling yous,” he’d said. “It’s got a million billion tiny wee eyes, and spikes, and it sweats like it’s just eaten a spicy curry.”
“Get lost,” Amy said, crossing her freckled arms.
[Read more…] about The Back WalkBy Michael Degnan
I decided to visit Uncle Jack after my mom’s funeral. I threw a few changes of clothes into my backpack, grabbed a couple of books, and went to the airport. I got a discount ticket to Rome on one of those budget airlines that is supposed to save you money but charges you for just about everything. None of that mattered. I was off to see family.
Uncle Jack loomed large in my childhood. Growing up an only child wasn’t always the easiest thing. I’d watch shows like the Brady Bunch and movies like Home Alone and wonder why my family was so small, why our holidays were so quiet and uneventful.
[Read more…] about Uncle JackCertainly, you can kill the wife. Women are killed all the time in fiction. Everyone will expect it. To get sympathy for your protagonist, make sure your reader knows she was a faithless virago. That will sway their small, judgmental minds. How dare she stray, break the marriage contract, and still ask your protagonist to shower daily?
Stack the deck by mentioning her intention to go through with a brutal divorce, to take the child, the house, and half of the priceless Funko action figures your protagonist has slaved for years to collect. That’s your stuff—your MC’s, I mean.
[Read more…] about Writing Tip #23: Never Kill the Dog