Tag Archives: flash fiction

The problem was, Miles figured, a matter of logistics. He couldn’t cordon off the downstairs loo forever, but to let it be used by any manner of guests without explaining things would result in far too much trouble. Anything the … Continue reading →

It’s happening again. Can you feel it? Tension in the air and storm clouds gathering. Birds are quick to flight, seeking shelter as best they can, while other beasts have gone to ground, and are huddled together, still and all … Continue reading →

He wakes without a gasp, without a start, and the silence of it belies the horror that lives behind his eyes. Shadows and broken things, sharp edges seeking to carve out the inner supports of him, hollowing him out, waiting … Continue reading →

The day begins with the heart beating, leftover, on the table. It sits there, still beating, still bleeding, and she’s still weeping, pleading even, but the man with the knives never looks at her. He never looks at anything but … Continue reading →

Everything was perfect until the fairies showed up. Everything went along and made sense. Everything had its good points and its bad points. School was long, but I got to make spitballs, and dip Penny’s braids into the inkwell in … Continue reading →