flash fiction

Flash Fiction: Delivery Drones

I watched from my armchair as my son ran towards the window and flung it open.

Before I could ask about his sudden adrenaline boost on a sunday afternoon, he squealed out to me.

“There it is, our pizza’s here!”

That was hardly a reason to make such a fuss. He had just had breakfast a couple of hours ago. He couldn’t be that hungry. My son sensed my thoughts.

“Dad! You’ve got to see this. They are delivering our pizza using a drone. The Pizza Planet people are so cool and smart.”

I watched as the drone flew up to the open window and dropped the pizza into my son’s hands. As soon as the drone had gone out of sight, my son opened the box.

“Dad! They have delivered the wrong pizza.”

I sniggered softly.

Looks like they weren’t so smart after all…


Word Count: 145

Prompt:

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #22

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Flash Fiction: Future Art

This was boring.

I should have expected this when I signed up for the ‘Art of the Future’ fair. However, my then alcohol fuelled brain had failed to consider how boring the endeavour could be. The art structure in front of me was titled ‘Fuel of the Future’. The artist was proudly presenting it as his vision of a post ten year future: Flying cars which recharged with giant plugs. I shrugged as I clicked my chronometer and travelled twenty years into the future, where I hailed from.

I tsked as I saw the streets still crowded by cars…


Word Count: 99

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 12th July 2019

Flash Fiction: Brave and Free

I look at our flag fluttering in the wind.

We’re the Home of the brave and land of the free, they say. Sadly, I’m neither of the two. My husband is a pile of trash, and the trash smells better. I despise him and his ways with me. However, I am bound in matrimony to him, as decided by our families. Five years ago, I wasn’t brave enough to say no and nor am I brave enough to do it now. However, what if bravery can win me my freedom?

I grip the kitchen-knife tighter as I hear him enter…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 5th July 2019

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Flash Fiction: The Violinist

The music had started right on time and today, I was prepared.

Excitedly, I climbed over the wall and jumped into the courtyard of the mansion. I was finally about to find out the source of the beautiful music I heard every evening. I crept along the grassy path and hid behind the low inner-barricade. Carefully, I snuck a peek and my eyes fell upon a lady. Dressed in a black gown, her straight, sable hair waved around as she played her violin. Both my ears and eyes were captivated by the masterpiece before me. Suddenly, without any warning, she turned around and looked directly at me. Her pale face showed a mixture of shock and annoyance. She took a step towards me.

“What are you doing here?”

I stood up and slowly began retreating.

“I’m sorry milady. I heard your beautiful music and I just had to know who was playing it.”

Her eyes widened.

“You shouldn’t have listened.”

“I agree, milady. I don’t belong here.”

Before she could say anything, I turned around and ran back the way I came. If I had waited I would have heard her ominous words.

“No, child. This is the music of death. Only those about to die can hear it.”

I found out the truth in her words while I was trying to climb down the outer wall of the mansion.

Now I am permanently bound to the black lady, a perennial audience to her music…


Word Count: 245

Prompt:

#MenageMonday Challenge – Week 2×40

Flash Fiction: The Interview

Thank you sir, for agreeing to do this interview.

“That’s okay. Let’s get on with it.”

Sure, sir. Before beginning, any message for your fans?

“It’s just a medium I’m adding. I’ve always spoken to my fans through my paintings.”

Of course. They are definitely most expressive. What is the secret behind your unusually emotive paintings?

“It’s the water I use.”

Wow! Is it imported from a secret place?

“Imported? No. My tears give my paint their magic. Earlier, when I was a poor nobody, they were tears of sadness. Today, they are tears of joy and satisfaction…”


Word Count: 99

Prompt:

June 27: Flash Fiction Challenge

Flash Fiction: Crossover

You end up paying the price for your behaviour.

Ask me. I know only too well. All my life, I lived like a selfish savage. I never cared for any other person. I took what I wanted and lived my life to the fullest. Then it all ended. I paid the price for my exploits and I was sent to Hell. Then the war broke out. The forces of Heaven and Hell joined forces against a common foe. And we won. Strangely, I learnt the values of life in my afterlife, during a war. And yet again, I paid the price for my exploits. However, it was more of a reward this time.

I was allowed to crossover into heaven…


Word Count: 120

Prompt:

Reena’s Exploration Challenge #92

Flash Fiction: Cinema

It was opening night of the new cinema in town.

It advertised a new dimension which made the movie seem all the more real to viewers. It was still an experimental tech and in a sense, us first viewers were guinea pigs.
I was rather excited about the experience. The movie was a standard slasher flick, but the new effects lived up to all the advertising. The slashes, screams and spurts of blood seemed so real. I only realized at the end of the movie, that they were indeed real.

The bloody bodies in the front row served as proof…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 28 June 2019

Flash Fiction: The Expert

The Expert’s here.

Why is he called that? Obvious. It’s because he is particularly skilled at what he does. Agreed, we are trained to do it too. However, our training barely scratches the surface of his skills. I have worked with him once before. He carries himself with total confidence, dresses dapper. He always carries with him his tool bag. Yes, it contains all his little devices. Our guest sure is in for a world of serious pain.

The expert knows how to make even the most stubborn people talk…


Word Count: 90

Prompt:

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #19

Photo source – Andrew Neel@pexels.com

Flash Fiction: The Misty Stone

“Boss!Can’t we take a break?”

Captain Gregory looked back at his squad and the sorry picture they painted. He sighed and nodded. Cummins turned back to his three comrades and gave them a thumbs up sign. The tired soldiers seated themselves on the marshy ground, atop what little firm area they could find. They were deep inside the jungle now, and the density of the fog showed no signs of thinning down. Captain Gregory spit out the gum he was chewing and replaced it with a fresh wad of gum. He walked up to his men.

“Five minutes is all you get. Then we continue.”

Cummins shook his head in disbelief.

“Boss, why are we rushing it so much? Why not wait until this deathly fog reduces? We have lost half our men trying to navigate the perils of this jungle in such poor visibility. All this just for a stone?”

The captain drew himself up to his full height.

“Son, you don’t even know the value of this stone on the black market. The thickening of fog only indicates that the stone is being moved to a secure location. We won’t get a chance like this for the next five years. I cannot afford to waste time like this. I want the stone, and I will have it, so watch me.”

Cummins got up, readied his weapon and whispered as softly as he could.

“I’m more afraid of what else is watching us right now.”


Word Count: 247

Prompt:

#MenageMonday Challenge – Week 2×39

Flash Fiction: Look Before You Speak

It was a tiresome wait.

My meetings had been draining and all I wanted was to get back home. However, my FreeFly Airlines flight was two hours late. As I sat at my gate, a posh gentleman came and sat next to me. He greeted me and spoke in a polished accent.
“Flying FreeFly eh?”
I nodded.
“Bad choice. See, they are never on time. I’m flying AirSuperior. They really are superior. Better seats, crew, planes, better timing…”
Right then there was a news flash on the TV:

AirSuperior flight explodes midair.

The gentleman got up and walked away wordlessly…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 21 June 2019
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields