Flash fiction, short stories, poems, novella
Flash Fiction It’s summertime, but seasons are arbitrary anyways. The floor of the yard is cool and welcoming, the trees indifferent and rustling, sunlight dappling the leaves in a somber, mellow touch. You never could name those trees. They might as well be oak, or acacia, damned if you knew the difference. The shadows lengthen […]
Those Lazy, Fuzzy, Sleepy Evenings Read More »
Short Story / Second Person TW: Gore / Death You are in a forest. The scorching sun has pulled itself laboriously over the thin horizon, and the last shreds of red-orange light have climbed in after it. A handful of stars still twinkle dimly in the far reaches of the cosmos, and you can just
You are in a Forest Read More »
Flash Fiction Hi. Hello. Okay, this is weird. You don’t know me, but you just have to trust me here, okay? Don’t worry I’m not going to ask something illogical of you. There is no Mission-Impossible type plot and nothing really serious, if I’m being perfectly honest. It’s just that I had to say hello,
Hello, this is weird but… Read More »
In the universe, Two eyes. In those two eyes, Two balls of glistening tears. In those two balls of glistening tears, The universe
Flash Fiction “Are you sure you want to put it to the burn?” The tree stood tall, cold, unmoving, unresponding, unperturbed by its death sentence. The ancient trunk wide and almost cylindrical, its circular circumference made shaky by the tough, dark-brown bark hanging on the surface, clinging and groping resolutely on the smooth skin that
Are you sure you want to put it to the burn? Read More »
Flash Fiction The polar bear poked one eye out of its cosy pit and yawned. He brought forth a hefty paw out from beneath him and beat it lazily against one side of his head. He stuck his butt out from the thick blankets of snow and sent powdery snow flying all around. Wriggling his
This picturesque grove. These ancient white oaks and their shady, leafy canopies. The playful sunlight dapples the leaves and the hungry chloroplasts engulfing the photons. The fluttering birds. The sun-kissed flowers. The babbling brook. The patch of freshly-dug earth in the middle. The headstone. A picture-perfect grove, a graveyard.
Places Don’t Get to Decide How They Will Be Remembered Read More »
Flash Fiction Kumejima station. Well past midnight. Cold, dreary, bright. Bright. Brighter than it ever needs to be. It’s quiet. The kind of quiet you get when a behemoth structure designed for the rush and reverberations of a flood of hundreds of thousands of people echoes only with the hushed bustle of thousands of people.
Flash-fiction Sean gazed at the sky and wondered if it all really did matter. Above him, rolling over the gloomy, grey expanse, the black thunderclouds boomed. Below him, the sleepy earth hummed noiselessly. In front, the forest stood silent vigil, as dismal and inscrutable as ever. A crow cawed. A raven took flight. A dove
The Indifferent Universe Rolled On Read More »
Flash Fiction The black and white rain drizzled noisily in an ever-increasing downpour. The sky was overcast with pitch black clouds, their outlines impossible to distinguish or differentiate. The rain fell from a dark abyss, the drops forming out of nothing and simply materializing into one’s vision. From that dark abyss, they fell chaotically, racing
