Category Archives: Flash fiction

The Forest by Paul Parten

We never liked living close to big towns, my dad always said they made the air taste too closed in, ‘pre-used’ he’d call it.   But, dad always had to go where the jobs were, so moving to California was just another house in another town.

New friends, new school, new address.  Again. Continue Reading

Treated Like Royalties by Margaret Finnegan

Dear Frank:

To follow up on my last three unreturned phone calls, I was told in the Spring that I would be receiving a royalty payment for approximately $550 for my novel Dreams of a Lunch Lady. I have not yet received my royalty payment. Please let me know when it will arrive.

Sincerely,

Constance Dorsey
3217 Craftsman Way
Pasadena, CA 91106

 

Dear Frank:

I still have not received that check. Please let me know why by filling out and returning the following questionnaire:

Staff Accountant Frank Fields is:
__ Dead
__ Dying
__ On vacation
__ Other (Please state, and please be as specific as possible:_________________.)

Sincerely,

Constance Dorsey
3217 Craftsman Way
Pasadena, CA 91106 Continue Reading

The Toe by Windi Padia

I found it in the desert. I saw Fran driving her truck loaded down with dead branches, and then I saw her pitch the stuff off the side of a shallow arroyo. I was out for a walk before the heat had a chance to start baking the trail.

The toe was severed clean, like a surgeon had sliced it with a very sharp saw. It was the big toe, with a yellowed nail and a hairy toe knuckle. The bone was surrounded by meat that had dried to raw flesh, rough to the touch and darkened on the edges like jerky. It rested on the sand next to a tree limb with leaves already curling from the approaching heat.

I liked Fran. I did handyman work for her and her husband Oliver. She always told me I was too skinny. I’d be digging in the garden and she’d take my dirty hand in her frail, spider-webbed one, and tell me to stop and eat. Sometimes she would forget my name, but I never minded. She was in her eighties, after all.

An ant found the toe, and began chewing on the fresh end near the nail.

I took it to Tom, the local sheriff. I figured a severed toe was worth reporting. Continue Reading

Mr. Machismo by Lynn Nicholas

Paige was barely breathing. She hovered over the drinking fountain, her head tilted just enough to follow Tony Moreno’s every movement in the mirrored ballroom. The staccato beat of Tony’s Cuban heels reverberated across the floorboards, his movements precise and powerful. No one could embody the passion of the Paso Doble like Tony. White shirt open, his elaborate gold cross gleamed against his competition-ready, spray-tanned chest. Chin high, teeth bared in a Matador’s snarl, he arched his back and swirled an imaginary cape, stopping mid-step to appraise his line in the mirror. Paige looked up, caught off guard by the sudden silence. With a wicked thrust of his pelvis, Tony winked directly into the reflection of her wide-eyed stare.

Her brain froze. She prayed to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, for quick-witted quip. Flustered, Paige began gulping back water like a drought survivor. Please God, just let him walk past me.

Tony picked up his sweat towel as he strode across the ballroom. Predatory white teeth gleaming, he admired Paige’s bent posture, which treated Tony to tight butt cheeks exposed under her dance shorts. Continue Reading

The Hyrules of Heroism by A.M. Schultz

As his wide set, almondy eyes scanned the fresh aesthetics, Link breathed a much welcomed whiff of Pasadena’s clean air into his lungs. There was a cool, comforting, calming serenity about this Pasadena air – innocence, even – that was entirely devoid of the wretched, putrid pungeance of Gannon’s treachery. The evil pig had perished at the end of Link’s sword eons ago, but an eternal sensation loomed inside the abdomen of the young hero, leaving him fearful that the angst that had manifested in his soul would never subside.

Still, he hadn’t come this far to dwell upon the torments of his past. Travelling transdimensionally is an exhausting feat, even for a renowned hero, and though he had grown quickly nostalgic for the tranquil chaos of his homeland and his tireless quest to earn the love of a beautiful princess, Link was not about to squander this opportunity at a new life.

“Well, it’s definitely not Hyrule, by any means,” he thought out loud, with traces of optimism in his voice, “but at least I didn’t wind up in Santa Ana.” Continue Reading

First Love by Ross Baxter

Jon sat on the couch and waited in the silent apartment. He expected it to be quiet; the Pasadena City College semester had finished the previous week and everyone was away on holiday, but not this quiet. He had only returned for a night to attend a one-off lecture on psychic potential, and it was there that he met her.

For the first time in his life he fell hopelessly and completely in love.

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The Numbers Danced by Carol Louise Wilde

Shoshee settled her back against the smooth stone at the base of the tall rock-thing. She sat in its shadow, cross-legged on the smooth hard-white-rock that ran along the base of it. Her left hand lay in her lap, palm up, open to the sky. The fingers of her right hand rested on the weathered cranium of the broken skull that lay beside her. The rest of the bones were scattered nearby, intermingled with the broken fragments of a stone that must have fallen from somewhere high up on the face of the rock-thing.

Shoshee drew a long breath and let it out slowly. She closed her eyes, settling her mind, and softly spoke the Opening Words. It was a warm-bright morning in the Time of Shortening Days. Somewhere an insect buzzed. The only other sound was the breeze as it whispered softly around the edges of the rock-thing overhead. As she sat and breathed, and thought the Words, the sounds faded. When the spirit spoke, she listened.

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