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Flash Fiction

No Costume Needed

No Costume Needed

This is a blast from the past originally posted on November 10, 2014. It was something that fell into the Indies Unlimited flash fiction challenge stories, but it ended up being too long. Though it’s a day late, it does fit the mood of the season. Cthulhumas is upon us …

Silver Flames

Silver Flames #vignette

Today we stumble across a short bit to make us thirsty for more. Maybe it’s something, maybe not. I’m not here to judge anything. I just put the words to the page. Silver Flames Focus in on the edge of a glass. A finger twists across its surface and the …

Signs

Signs #flashfiction

This blast from the past was originally written for the Indies Unlimited weekly flash fiction prompts. Original posting date was August 20, 2014. In the past they used to give you prompts and a picture and then you went from there. The story can fit the prompts, it can be …

seventh butterfly

Seventh Butterfly #storybits

So here is a thing. It isn’t meant to be a full story and it won’t read like a story. Doing bits and pieces of stories has been something I have played around with here in the past. It’s a bit of character study as well as digging into different …

The Masks We Wear

The Masks We Wear #horror

Still recovering from surgery yesterday. Doing a blast from the past because it’s what I have the energy for right now. The story was first published September 15, 2014. The Masks We Wear “We all wear masks,” Carl said. Dr. Carl Sanderson started the lecture the same way every semester. …

you are my meat

You are my Meat #horror

Flash from the past originally posted on October 11th, 2014. You are my Meat Thunk! The cleaver cracked through flesh, through bone, and smack into the cutting board. Thunk! A rhythmic pattern as she worked her way through the carcass. Shiela worked fast and clean. It never took her long …

Symphony of the Damned

Symphony of the Damned #horror

This blast from the past was first published on October 30, 2014. Symphony of the Damned I turned eighteen the day before we hit the beach. Rockets and bombs were the candles on my cake, explosions crept well into the small hours of the night. The beach would be clear, …