Tag Archives: flash fiction

Fiction Friday — “Sorry”

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #144 for 26th February, 2010

The bag was empty except for a smudged, slip of paper which said, “Sorry.”

The bag was empty except for a smudged, slip of paper, which said, “Sorry.” Jeannie hadn’t touched the precious artifact yet but she could clearly see the letters, crudely written with what she hoped might be what the old ones used to call a ball pen since the word was a faded blue. She wondered at the person who had written that conciliatory word and why the slip had been left in this near-fossilized leather bag.

How could the paper have survived after all these centuries? The word, this single word seemed pathetic, as if its owner had wanted to apologize for all the wrongs humanity had inflicted on itself, nearly destroying its planet in the process.

Jeannie examined the paper, the word, still without touching it. The meaning behind the word was fathomless and full of possibilities.

Six hundred years before

Lisa looked at the single word, “Sorry,” on a torn piece of paper Pete had passed her across the desk in Mrs. Benson’s arithmetic class. Yeah, he’d better be sorry for having broken her favorite pencil, the wretch. With a shrug and a glare at Pete, she stuffed the note into her bag. They’d discuss replacement at recess.

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Fiction Friday>> Life’s joke

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for September 25th, 2009:

The house lights dim, the curtain goes up… you’re on.

Life’s a stage, someone said. Shakespeare, maybe, or some other writer who got immortalized. That’s what I do: I play at life. Life’s a joke. It grabs you when you rush out of your mother’s womb and lets you go only when it’s finished with you. It teases you, it prods you, it weighs on you until you want to scream. It forces you to move ahead whether you like it or not and it hard-wires the inability to do anything else than follow along. Even when you want to kill life, it has you by the throat until it decides to let go and let you fall.

Sometimes it takes forever for life to drop you off the cliff of the world. Sometimes it’s only a few short days, a few hours. There’s no rhyme or reason, no scientific data on why it happens. Some call it fate, others call it God’s will. I’m not here to judge. Just to say goodbye to life, after thirty-four years. I guess life decided I was finished. Life’s a bitch.

Rules for Fiction Friday:

  • Every Thursday, just check this page for this week’s theme or challenge.
  • Spend at least 5 minutes composing something original based on the theme or challenge.
  • But, remember, no editing. This is to inspire creativity not stifle it.
  • On Friday, simply post what you wrote to your own blog.
  • Then come back to Write Anything and leave the link in the comment section below.
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Fiction Friday>> Nine Lives

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for June 5th, 2009:

“Don’t sit there,” she commanded. “That’s the cat’s chair.”

“Let’s talk about this,” I said. “We’ll sit down, reason it out.” I backed slowly toward the living room, my eyes glued to hers, my hands away from my body to show I didn’t mean any harm. I could see her entire body trembling, in fear or anger I wasn’t sure. She’d bitten her lower lip so hard it was bleeding.

She followed me, the gun in her hand wobbling so hard there was no way could she shoot straight. I saw that as my only chance. In the living room, I made to sit down.

“Don’t sit there, she commanded, her voice tremulous. “That’s the cat’s chair.” She gestured at the fireplace with the gun. “Go stand there.”

I obeyed, still keeping my eyes on her. Something crinkled under my feet. I looked down. A large plastic sheet -industrial grade-lay on the floor. My head rose to her face so fast I nearly got whiplash.

Her eyes were clear, she had a slight smile on her face. Her hand was steady as she pointed the gun at my chest. “Vulnerability is such a nifty tool,” she murmured.

Oh, shit, I thought, just before she pulled the trigger.

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Fiction Friday>>Time out

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for May 29th, 2009:

Choose one of the following (or both!)

Put this into your story – “Time out! Time out! We can call that, right?”

OR: write a poem from this image – A fallen star.

“Time out! Time out! We can call that, right?”

“For Christ’s sake, Shirley, get serious.”

“I am being serious. We’ve always dealt with Junior with time outs before. Why wouldn’t it work now?”

“Because what he did warrants more than a few minutes alone in his room.”

“We don’t know that he did it. We suspect that he did it.”

Hank sent his wife a pitying look. “How long are you going to play the mother hen? How long are you going to protect him? Look at him! He doesn’t even look like he regrets what he’s done.”

“You don’t know he did it!”

Hank winced at the shrill sound of his wife. “Why send him in time out, then?”

“Well, he was in with bad company. He ought to reflect on that.”

“Bad company?” Hank couldn’t believe his ears. He felt like his eyes would pop out of his head any minute. “Bad company? Shirley, you are the dumbest woman on this side of the Atlantic. The kid is drenched in blood, and it’s not his. He killed a man, Shirley. He killed him with an axe for the twenty bucks in his wallet and the ten year old TV is his living room. I’d say that warrants more than a time out.”

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Fiction Friday >> Time Warp

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for May 8, 2009
A man is given the ability to go back in time and change one event in his life.

It was true. He was here, five years into the past. He could relive this day, change everything. Amazingly, he had been given a second chance at making things better, at undoing what he had set in motion, what had changed his life and the lives of so many around him. He had hurt so many by that single act, that single choice. He hadn’t realized the impact it would have. It was only in retrospect, looking back at the events that led to that day, that hour, that minute, that he had given himself the luxury of regret. How many times had he wished it could all be undone, rewound, reshot, like the takes of a movie, until he had got it right. And now it could happen, it could be done. He could reshape this moment and all the moments that would come after. He didn’t know if his life would be better for it but at least he would not have that one excruciating regret.

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