Category Archives: flash fiction

Five More Minutes

The beeping of her alarm woke me up, but I didn’t mind.

“Hey,” she said, all sleepy-eyed.

“Morning,” I replied.

She turned away onto her side, an obvious hint she wanted to be spooned, and I followed suit.

“This is nice.”

She turned and smiled at my comment. Once she returned to being the little spoon I kissed her neck.

“I wish I didn’t have to go to work.,” I heard her whisper. “I could do this all day.”

“Same.”

She escaped my arms and rolled onto her back so I kissed her.

“At least you have off today. Lucky.”

I smiled. She’s always been jealous of my day off.

“You better get up. You’ll be late.”

She turned away again, signaling for more spooning. I scooched up against her and squeezed her in my arms.

She reached for the fluffy white comforter and pulled it over our heads.

“Five more minutes.”

A Political/Artistic Post Against Oil Spills

Created with my pissed-off attitude, creativity, a found photograph and my Brother Charger 11. This post would also not be possible without the (dis)cooperation of BP.

This piece is now on sale HERE along with many others!

The Day Before…

Made with my Brother Charger 11 and my dark imagination…

Pollution in the Valley

This print, along with many others, can now be purchased at my ETSY!

The Healthcare Issues of a Couple in Love

“Do you ever think about marrying me?” she asked wide-eyed.

“Interesting pillow talk,” he thought to himself.

“Of course I do. I’m just waiting for the right-”

“Time?” she said with too much enthusiasm.

“Um…I was actually going to say health insurance.” He tried not to crack a smile.

She jumped up. “What?!?!”

He chuckled and she cracked a smile.

“What’s sad is that I know you’re only half kidding.”

“True.” He reached over and stuck his thumbs into her armpits before she could react and had her giggling in no time. “God knows I wouldn’t marry you for your money. You work at Borders!”

Between giggles she tried to defend herself both against the tickles and his teasing.

“Shut up! Yours isn’t much better – and at least-” giggles “Mine is-” laughing harder “full-time!” She started squealing as he switched it up and started squeezing her ribs a bit, tickling the old ivories.

“Let’s face it,” he continued. “Right now your health insurance isn’t so great. I’m looking for a girl with seriously awesome insurance. So you know, when I get sick, it’s easier. Cheaper. Five dollar co-pay.”

She jumped up and pushed his arms away. Now it was her turn as she somehow got her hands onto his belly, his weak spot. His laughter was uncontrolled as he fell to the ground.

“How about now? What do you have to say now?” she said, laughing as hard as she was when roles were reversed.

He tried but couldn’t get the words out. Finally she let up but kept her hands on his belly.

“Well? What do you have to say?” He grinned and she poised for another attack.

“Dental. And vision.”

So she attacked.

The Cliff’s Edge

A found photograph with a dark, possibly evil story typed on it with my Brother Charger 11.

This and many other prints can be purchased now at my ETSY! Check it out!

It’s a Day at the Beach

Photograph purchased at a yard sale, story typed on a Brother Charger 11.

This original print, along with many others, is now for sale on my Etsy!

A Sporadic Trip Around the World

“I want to take a trip around the world.”

Illana looked up at Maura to gauge the sincerity of her comment. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Now.”

Illana left her homework and walked over to the bed where Maura lay on her stomach ignoring the text she was assigned.

“You’re one-hundred percent sure?” Maura nodded. “Then get dressed.”

As Maura put on her favorite tee shirt they’d bought because they thought the image looked like Joan Crawford, Illana pulled out an old plaid suitcase, a treasure found at an estate sale a few months back. She opened it and began placing random clothing into it as her friend pulled a skirt up over her black leggings. Once assembled, Maura stepped up to the suitcase, motioning to Illana that it was her turn to get ready.

Pulling out a pair of flower-print shorts and holding them up to a mirror against her leggings, Illana remembered something important and said, “Don’t forget Marilyn. And Old Yellow.” Maura nodded in agreement and grabbed the large framed photograph and a beat up toy car, stuffing them into the vintage case with the clothing.

Illana joined her by the suitcase and they each took a clamp and shut it.

“Let’s go,” Maura said, Illana grabbing the suitcase and following close behind.

***

Illana and Maura waited alongside Paddua Road, a desolate and unused trucking road that ended at a collapsed bridge about three miles towards the mountains. They watched, waiting for an unlikely vehicle.

“I want to see Paris,” Illana said as she propped up the photograph against the suitcase and plopped down in the grass next to the asphalt.

“So generic,” Maura responded. “But yes, we must. And Madrid.”

“Rome.”

“Prague.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

Maura shielded her eyes from the sun, looking down the empty road. “Nobody’s coming. I want to change my shirt.”

“So change it. There isn’t a house for miles.”

Maura removed the Joan Crawford-like shirt and replaced it with a gray tee, pulling the long sleeves up to her elbows. She looked down the road again, then started slowly crossing it towards the open field across from them. Illana laid down in the middle of the road and watched her go for a moment before getting up, and grabbing their belongings and heading for the same field.

She joined Maura, who was now sitting amongst the grass and dandelion wishes. Illana plucked one of the nearby flowers and blew on it so that parachutes fluttered in the air, putting on a private dance just for the two teenagers.

“Think we’ll ever actually see the world?”

“Of course we will. Don’t be silly. As soon as we’re eighteen. Summer after we graduate. It’ll happen.”

Maura reached over to the suitcase and opened it, removing the small beat up vehicle they’d found while exploring an abandoned home last summer. She ran her fingers across the writing on the door that said “Kreuzer – Ball Pen Stylo” and then spun one of the wheels. She looked over at Illana, who was laying on her back with her feet in the air. She gently balanced the toy onto Illana’s feet.

“See how long you can keep it there.”

After a few minutes of a quiet breeze and perfect balance, Maura reached over and tickled Illana, making the car roll off her feet and into a particularly large pack of the white dandelions. The car disturbed enough of the flowers to break a large amount of them, and the wind picked up the petals and blew them towards the girls, making a summer snowfall of wishes surround them.

“Make a wish,” Illana told Maura.

“I already did.”

Maura got up and picked up the suitcase.

“Let’s go home.”

Photographs by Laura and Manon of Nonsense of the Truth

Please stop by their AMAZING blog and check out how talented they are!

Verisimilitude

She and I were sitting each on one side of a statue on a park bench.

“What?” I asked her.

“Weren’t you listening to me?”

“Honestly, no. I am completely taken in by the verisimilitude of this statue. It looks so real.” I could not stop staring.

Her attention went from me (and anger) to the statue, one of a man in a suit styled from the 1960s, including a hat.

“Wow, you’re right. It looks so real. Lifelike.”

“If I didn’t know better, I would swear it was real,” I said.

She looked at it as if waiting for it to blink. It did not.

“Waiting for it to blink?” I asked with a laugh.

“No,” she said, a certain amount of defense in her voice.

“So what were you saying?” I asked around the statue towards the front. She looked behind the statue as if we were in some Abbott and Costello routine.

“Huh?”

“What?”

“What?”
“Who’s on first?” I asked.

“Shut up.”

“Meet me in front of the statue,” I called to her.

She did so.

“What were you saying?”

“I was saying…”

“You forgot?”

“Shut up.”

Her eyes turned back towards the statue. She started staring at it.

“Certainly does look real. Excellent craftsmanship, whoever made it.”

“Agreed,” I said.

At that the statue sneezed.

“Bless you.”

The word verisimilitude was suggested by Kate.

Sunglasses and Rubber Boots

I sat on the park bench reading, and she came up and sat next to me. I probably wouldn’t have noticed her if it were not for the rubber boots shooting into my peripheral view as I looked down at the novel.

They were bright blue, but that wasn’t what attracted my attention. I looked up at the shining sun and had to shield my eyes from it, even with my dark sunglasses on. It was a scorcher, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

I looked over at her and smiled, she smiled back, but I couldn’t see her eyes through her dark aviators. She looked to be about twenty, wore a bright white and blue print dress and had nice legs. She had a vintage umbrella propped up against the bench next to her, and a little plaid satchel out of which she pulled a sandwich and an apple.

I tried to focus on my book but could not. Why the rubber boots? It was a perfect day, a bright blue cloudless sky backing up my thoughts as I looked around to see the other people in the park going about their busy lives. Not a single one carried an umbrella or wore boots; as a matter of fact none were prepared for any sort of rain at all.

I wanted to ask her, and was about to when a ringing came from her pocket and she pulled out a cell phone.

“Hello?” she said in a Danish accent, and I decided this was fate, I was not meant to inquire about her footwear. Instead I placed my book back into my messenger bag and went on my way, only to find that five minutes later, a sudden darkened sky opened up and rained down on me and the many other unprepared people on the streets. I pulled into a coffee shop for shelter, and before a minute passed the girl skipped by, dry under her umbrella, her boots protecting her feet from the massive flooding that was taking place, and her sunglasses nowhere to be seen.

Words sunglasses and rubber boots and photograph by Christina  Mølholm of And the Monsters fame.