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101 Word Short Stories

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Writer’s Block

May 26, 2015 4 Comments

Writer’s Block
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It had been such a long time since she had written anything. She remembered when picking up a pen was as eagerly done as a spider eats flies. Where were the stories now? Secreted away in dark corridors of unreliable memory.

Taking herself for a walk, she noticed the smallest things: a robin on a tree stump, the mild breeze brushing her arms and bringing scents of mown grass to her nose, water tumbling noisily over the weir, and the thrill as cyclists pedalled speedily past.

Slowly, slowly, words returned, an itch in her hand proclaimed a readiness to write again.

By Jet Black

The Hangover

May 25, 2015 6 Comments

The Hangover
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The morning fog rolled down the street and Dzinski followed it. Each step he took rattled his teeth, sent a pulse of pain arching around his head. He reached out to steady himself against the wall but missed, and landed heavily on the sidewalk.

He remembered a bar, a brunette and too many bourbons.

The concrete was cool against his cheek. It would be to easy sleep here, if it wasn’t for that voice nagging at him, telling him to get up, telling him he missed something, that there was more to remember.

Dzinski stood, determined to find out what happened.

By Craig Towsley

Meadowland

May 25, 2015 5 Comments

Meadowland
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His path followed a towering hawthorn hedge, speckled with plump, creamy buds.

Unexpectedly, the open pasture came to an abrupt full stop. A gate blocked his way, dissecting meadowland one side from the grassy bank behind him.

Patrick retrieved his Father’s letter and a tattered map from the rucksack, spreading them flat on the grass.

It looked different. He’d doubted his memory briefly, but there it was.

It was his tenth birthday, the day they saw lightning strike the great oak tree.

Now, fifty years later he was reaching into that same splintered tree, for a gift from beyond the grave.

By Rebecca Goldthorpe

Flash Fiction Sunday Edition – Issue 6

May 24, 2015 Leave a Comment

Flash Fiction Sunday Edition - Issue 6
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Welcome to our ongoing Flash Fiction Sunday Edition.

If you are new here, we do this every Sunday. We also publish 101 word Flash Fiction every day. We even deliver:

Subscribe to Flash Fiction Daily

— Shannon

Flash Fiction chosen by Kevlin Henney

“Undone” by Rin Simpson via FlashFlood

Death and funerals are such a common theme in short fiction that they almost fade into the background, but the vividness and care of the language, the beautiful and spare word choice around the turning point of the tale, and the strength of the point of view in this story pull it so firmly into the foreground that you cannot help but read it again (and again).

“Plaits” by Tania Hershman via Tania Hershman

Love and relationships are the stuff of most stories, and it is normally the heart we blame or credit. The lyrical flow of this flash instead weaves a tale of love found, faltered and recovered around hair, hands and knees.

“The Way” by Frank Dutkiewicz via Daily Science Fiction

Age, dementia and the passing of life into forgotten years are difficult to write about well. This story does this and more. There is a beauty and feeling in the detail and form of this story that will last you the rest of the day.

“Search History” by Iain Rowan via Flashbang

No more than 150 words, not even written in complete sentences, and yet all it needs to be a whole story and a perfect flash. One of the more ingenious and effective examples of list fiction I’ve ever read.

Places I’ve Seen

May 22, 2015 6 Comments

Places I’ve Seen
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Once in every lifetime a body ought to travel.

Fortune greatly smiled upon me. I’ve slogged through soupy rain forests, swam the English Channel, jostled on camel back across arid desert dunes, and tripped through barren outer space. I’ve sailed upon oceans, my favorite pastime, and kissed the faces of Queens. I’ve touched Pyramids and met with Pharaohs.

While awake, alive, I travel as often as I can. I spare no seconds on moments that do not enrich. I travel ceaselessly while others busy themselves. Though I’ve never left my bed—born with no limbs—I travel, reading books to live.

By Pattyann McCarthy

The Flask

May 22, 2015 2 Comments

The Flask
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Myfanwy had been warned many times, Her father, the Apothecary had repeated ad nauseam, ‘You must never touch, Myfanwy. Once blouted, cannot be unblouted.’

By moonlight, the flask shone lustrous and shimmering and opalescent amongst the dull and dark shelves of beakers and jars of potions and herbs. It drew her to itself like a tide to a moon. She transported it from shelf to table as if it were some fragile beautiful bird and observed it in wonder as her father’s voice within her implored her to stop.

Like a bee to a flower her fingers hovered over the cork.

By Maureen Mooney

A Baseball Story

May 22, 2015 Leave a Comment

A Baseball Story
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As the team moved towards their destiny of winning the American League West division, Josh and I drove west on very little sleep. Deep in the land of Utah, too far out there to second guess yourself and too late to turn back now and go home, in between trying to find a radio station that would come in, we calculated how many miles we had already driven, at what rate we were making time, and dividing and subtracting to reassure one another we would make it there in time to park, stand in line, check-in, and go to the ATM.

By Jack C. Buck

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