Friday, August 2, 2013

FFF 10.2

There's a nice, warm drizzle outside, and you know how much I love the rain ;)

Funny how the more I write these flash fiction pieces, the less I end up editing. My first draft was 218 words, I fleshed it out to 263, then I re-wrote a line and cut out a couple extra words to make it 250:

It was nearly morning. The moon was an overturned bowl shaking the last drops of milky starlight into the silkscreen washed sky. Tomorrow it would be a waning crescent on its way to a new moon. Funny how a lightless night, after the moon has been extinguished, is when it’s thought to be reborn.
I flicked my lighter, the tiny sunspot of manufactured light as fast and ephemeral as a single heartbeat. My thumb pulsed, keeping time with sparks and the sharp scent of flint. Not the same as gunpowder, but close.
The lights were still off in the house, doors and windows latched for the night.
She’d be out soon. She ran every morning for an hour, her Belgian shepherd, Kali, keeping a loping pace at her side.
Flick, spark, burn, wait.
A razor gap of black widened as she opened the front door in the dark. In a pink sports-bra and knee-length shorts, she bent to tug the laces of her shoes tight. She took a few minutes to stretch, her hamstrings first, then planted her hands on the door and leaned into an almost-kneel to target the tendons in her calves and feet.
I checked the holster straps, ran my hand over the butt of my 9mm. 
She took off jogging, and I let her get half-a-block away before I followed. In this light, I didn’t want to be seen.
It was time to do my job.
I would keep her safe.


  1. Oh F**k now I shouldn’t post mine. That first line!
    Ha ha – a twist indeed but not what I thought – good one

    1. Glad you liked it ;) I figured, since everyone is sort of assuming I'm going *dark* in these pieces, I'd switch it up a little, 'cause you know how I love doing that ;p

  2. #1

    It was nearly morning. Pink patches scattered through the black sky. Olaf settled into the leather sofa with a sigh, and loosened his cravat. “The evening was a success.”

    Felix sat to the right of him in the green la-z-boy. With eyes half closed, the shorter one agreed. “It was a wise choice to attend the Southhapton ball.”

    Olaf pulled a starched linen handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the corner of his mouth. “Such a fine class of blue-bloods.”

    The two sluggish individuals rose from their seats and descended to the caves below the mansion; where they would retire to their coffins.

    1. Olaf, with a cravat, in the library.

      Oh wait, we weren't playing 'Clue'? Sorry, couldn't resist ;)

      Love the vampire short! Very nice, Sue ;)

      ...though I wasn't 100% sure who 'the shorter one' referred to... Felix?

    2. hahaha I did so laff at that
      yeh Felix - rather than repeating his name or saying "he"

  3. #2

    It was nearly morning. The three girls knew the night of fun would end at sun’s rise. The curly haired blonde with the face of porcelain and blue dress cried. “Oh I don’t want it to be over.”

    The dark haired girl in the red dress and white apron scolded. “We will yet have another night to play.”

    The red haired girl in the gold evening gown said, “I wish we could sing and dance all the time.”

    The three girls, feeling the first rays of the new day, climbed onto the white shelves. Emily would wake soon and would look for her dolls.

    1. Hahaha! Nice! Now you fooled me! I was totally thinking this was going to be another vampire short. Great twist there ;)

      ...and very creepy... well, okay, maybe it's only me who finds dolls really creepy ;)

    2. oh wow on me - I twisted - yeah the first was vamp then I said to myself - can I write something not vamp or devil... no others find dolls creepy - one of my frineds in the UK has a short -- very very creepy on the subject of dolls

      ok back to the tidying now

  4. I felt a little lost without external conflict, but the writing was good for stained-glass. Even for flash, having some indication of what the narrator is protecting her from would be nice.

    1. No idea what you mean by 'stained glass'.

    2. It's a writing theory I first heard of from Writing Excuses podcast. Here's my take on it:


Type me out a line of Shakespeare or a line of nonsense. Dumb-blonde-jokes & Irish jokes will make me laugh myself silly :)