Tag: Flash Fiction

  • T Is For… Thaumaturgic – Flash Fiction Word Prompt

    Theo, eyebrows bridged by a crease of concentration, waved her fingers midair in a seeming random pattern. When she finished, Sela gasped. The glowing trails coalesced to clearly show a portrait of their mother. The image sparkled before disappearing.

    “You can do it, too. When…?”

    “The night Mom died,” Theo whispered.

    “We can’t tell him. You do know that, right?”

    “I know, Sela. If Father finds out, I’ll be put in the institution just like Mom.”

    Sela sat up straight, fists balled in her lap. Fear gathered in her throat but she shook her head and swallowed it.

    “He’ll have to go through me first,” she growled.

    The air shimmered and the eyes of both girls widened. They clasped hands and bowed their heads, thanking the goddess and their mother’s spirit. Two would now stand strong against the blindly bigoted theocracy headed by their maniacal patriarch.

    –

  • K Is For… Kibitzer – Flash Fiction Word Prompt



    Karl shook his head. What an unfair nickname! He wasn’t really Karl the Kibitzer, was he? Sure he liked to joke around, but his wisecracks weren’t disruptive like the Yiddish word implied.
    At least he got off relatively light. Those jerks around the water cooler called some of their colleagues much worse. He figured Lester the Molester should file a lawsuit, in fact. Finished drying his hands, Karl tossed the paper towel in the trash and squared his shoulders.
     I’ll show them, he thought. They won’t get a word out of me the rest of the day.
    Five minutes later, Karl interrupted an important conference call to tell about the squirrel trapped in his fireplace last fall. After all, who didn’t love that story? Oblivious of his coworkers’ eye rolls, Karl felt certain he heard their customer laughing through the speaker.

    –

  • A Flash Fiction for Your Tuesday, by Darla

    The Revival

    “It’s a little inappropriate for you to be acting cute, isn’t it?”
    Stella jolted.  “What?!”
    Drew nodded toward the umbrella on the passenger seat.  Knuckles white on the steering wheel, his narrowing eyes froze her from the rearview mirror.
    “You think it’s cuteto run around in the rain?”
    “Only my bangs got wet.  See?  Hood.”
    “You need to take better care as a future mother,” he demanded, not laughing.  “Seatbelt.”
    Grateful to break eye contact, Stella complied.  She didn’t understand why he made her ride in the back tonight.  She wasn’t pregnant yet.
    And I don’t want to be pregnant now.  We agreed to wait.
    She thought of his new church.  Too busy with her job, Stella had never attended.  That was changing tonight.  Up to this point, she had only seen a few congregants visiting Drew when she came home late from work.  Only one couple stayed for introductions.
    The woman, Marie, acted almost manic about her upcoming childbirth.  Marie’s husband, eyes traversing Stella’s trim torso with tight lipped discernment, guided Marie past and out the door.  He ignored Stella’s farewell.
    Wanting to ask what the men discussed, Stella joked about the couple.  Her remark about a “Stepford wife” earned Drew’s glower.
    That night he convinced Stella to make love despite her fatigue and consternation.  Stella would not have called it truly lovemaking.  The pattern persisted, intimacy evolving into cold coupling when she acquiesced.
    This night, watching street lights flash across clasped hands, Stella tried to remember when Drew first started acting odd.  His finding a church had not been surprising.  The newlyweds fresh out of college joked about his search for spiritual enlightenment.  But he’d respected Stella’s interest in establishing an IT consulting career.
    She planned to work from home after establishing clientele.  First, they needed a home.  Their apartment’s small second bedroom barely contained her desk and files.  And her ambition required laying groundwork, solidifying big business contacts which sometimes required late night schmoozing.
    Parenthood will have to wait.
    The car stopped at a red light.  She glanced up.  Drew’s stare caused her to look toward the window.
    “You really like this church,” she remarked with false levity toward her pale reflection.  “Will Marie and her husband…?”
    “Robert.”
    She closed her eyes.  “Yes.  Robert.  Will they be there?”
    “Of course.  They wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
    “What?”
    “The Wednesday revival.”
    “Oh.  Is that what this is?”
    “That’s what I told you,” Drew rumbled.
    Stella’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening.  Before any snide comment emerged about how he’d told her nothing until now, she rolled her lips between her teeth and gently bit down.  Disagreement these days only deepened the chill wafting from her once-lighthearted spouse.
    The car stopped and Stella made sure Drew had it in park so as not to receive further rebuke before unbuckling her safety belt.  Nothing happened when she pulled the door handle.
    “Drew, do you have the child locks on the doors?”
    “Safety first, Stella,” Drew remarked, turned away as he exited the driver side, “We wouldn’t want you falling out of a moving vehicle and hurting yourself.”
    His door slammed shut and Stella’s throat constricted.  Waiting for Drew to come around and open her door, she attempted to stretch her legs in the cramped space.  As crazy as it all seemed, running seemed like an excellent idea.
    But Drew didn’t come around the car.  He held a hand out behind his back, not even offering her a glance as his palm indicated she should wait.
    What the heck?
    Several young men opened the door of the weatherworn building as Drew approached.  Wearing wide grins, several patted him on the back.  Stella could make out nothing beyond the crowded doorway.  Then a trio stepped out into the New York City rain alongside Drew.  The rest retreated, and Stella thought she heard applause before the door closed.
    Droplets sparkled in the hair of all four men, stained glass windows casting a glow in primary colors.  Stella noticed with absurd clarity how one held a closed umbrella.
    How chivalrous.
    Swallowing a snort, she yelped when Drew opened the door and two strangers blocked her escape.  One reached for her arm.  Robert and Drew stood silent.  Stella scrambled away, turning, only to back herself against the other locked door.  She rattled the handle, her efforts impotent.
    The word “impotent” actually popping into her panicked mind, Stella let out a sound indistinguishable between a laugh and a yelp.  The leering male leaning in appeared anything but that.  She tried to kick his groin.  He only got a vice grip on her advancing right ankle.
    God, let him be left-handed, Stella begged, her fear making the absurd wish seem logical.
    Crying out to Drew, Stella felt something snap in her right hip when the assailant yanked.  Suffering only a few minor forearm impacts, he grunted and stilled her flailing leg.  Gaze finding her husband, she saw only excitement in his feverish eyes and bared teeth.  Her grip on the door handle gave way as her lower body dropped and the attempt hyper-extended her left shoulder.
    At least I’m right handed, she thought.  I can still punch him where it hurts.
    Then Stella landed on the pavement.  The impact caused an explosion of stars before her vision and forced the air from her lungs, preventing her scream.  Drew stepped aside for an old woman.  She bent bearing a handkerchief, an acrid smell assaulting Stella’s nostrils even as she noticed the Bible in the other gnarled hand.
    “Don’t cry,” a woman soothed through spinning darkness.
    “Marie,” Stella croaked, hip and shoulder throbbing above overall achiness.  “Help.”
    “You’re fine, Sister Stella.  Stay still.  The drugs will wear off soon.”
    Stella tried to sit but the world twisted.  Bile rose in her throat.
    “Mother Montgomery didn’t want you hurting yourself or any potential fathers.”
    Stella heaved until emptied.  She shuddered at that consideration.
    Am I empty?
    “It’s a blessed calling.”
    “Calling?”
    “We’re here to revive the church.”
    –
  • Friday Flash Fiction

    Click below for a quick read befitting the season.  Happy Halloween!

    Darla’s Sand Castles – White Squirrel

  • Friday Flash Fiction

    It’s been a long time, but I finally have an offering.  Happy Friday, folks!

    Darla M Sands – A Word of Advice

  • Monday Morning

    Jackie heard the child’s voice before he saw her a thin high call that cut through his coffee and newspaper, straight past his earbuds and Morning Edition. Pulling the left bud free, he waited a moment.

    Damn kid didn’t appear. “Crap.”

    He stuffed his paper and his iPod into his satchel and rose, joints popping. Every time, every time he came to park, he got interrupted.

    “Maxie!” The cry came again and this time, he saw the girl. Thin and dark-haired, she had tear tracks dried to her face. She was as big as a minute and twice as cute, but unhappy as hell. How the hell was Jackie supposed to help? And who the hell was Maxie?

    He squatted down so he didn’t loom over her. “Lose something, sweetie?”

    She glared at him, all suspicion and mistrust packed into a four-year-old frame. Five, tops. “My cat got out.”

    He sighed. One of those mornings. Figured. He’d just gotten to the Op-Ed page, too. “What’s she look like?”

    “He!”

    Jackie blinked. “Pardon?”

    “Maxie’s a boy!”

    Her aqua jumper had smudges of dirt and a grass stain on it, but she seemed clean enough. All fresh dirt, anyway. “How about I help you?”

    “I’m not to talk to strangers!”

    Modern kids. “Do you have a quarter?”

    “What for?”

    “Well, if you pay me a quarter, I’ll help you. Then we won’t be strangers. You’ll be my boss.”

    She narrowed her eyes, considering. He waited, not rising, though his knee ached like a sore tooth from the position. Finally, she nodded. “All right.”

    They wound their way deeper into the park and found the cat cowering under a bush. He spit when he saw Jackie, but Jackie sighed and dropped his glamour for a moment. The cat blinked and then walked out from the bush, calm as you please.

    After he saw them both back to his bench, he sat down again.

    Ah, mornings. Coffee never tasted so good. He put his earbuds back in, fired up NPR, and paged through to the Op Eds. Now if he could just find a naughty child, he’d finally get some breakfast.

  • And Now, For Something Completely Different…

    I know, I know. Usually I post chapters of The Night Is a Harsh Mistress. I promise, I’m working on it. I even am doing so with the collaboration of my coauthor, Rachel! I think we’re going to come up with some good ideas for it that will interest you.

    But for today, I want to share with you the results of a challenge from Romance Divas. For those of you that aren’t familiar, Romance Divas is an online forum of writers, authors, and readers. It consistently is listed as one of Writer’s Digest’s Top 101 Websites for Writers, and has received accolades from the writing community – and not just romance. Composed of authors writing in many genres besides romance, it is an excellent place to learn, grow, and network.

    The challenges are great fun. Authors who are interested post that they would like to play, and challengers give them a scenario. The writer must respond within 48 hours with a flash that is under 750 words, meets all the points of the challenge, and that is PG-13. It’s a good way to practice writing quickly, and one can use an existing or new WIP (work-in-progress).

    My challenge this go-round was from author Jason Linetsky. The particulars were:

    • Genre of choice.
    • Scenario: Your h/h has to travel over a great distance for a very important meeting. It must be a straight through trip as in no layovers/stopovers in a method of your choice.
    • Required elements: An old owners manual, a helium tank, a fake id, and a chihuahua … KIDDING! No chihuahua! … and a bottle of Grey Goose vodka.

    Here is what I came up with. Enjoy!

    Untitled

    Zeta woke to the lovely strains of Chihuahua in full bark, accompanied by the symphony of shrill hungover White trash. God damned trucker hotels. The barking cut off with a yelp and sympathy for the stupid animal burned through Zeta’s chest.

    Figured.

    He rolled out of bed and took a piss, then set the coffee on to brew. He moved the owner’s manual for the ancient Helium tank back onto the bed. The tank itself sat there like a huge, half-rusted torpedo from the sixties. Here’s hoping the thing worked as well as a torpedo, or Monroe was gonna kill him.

    Thank God that dump had water pressure.

    Then again, heavy water pressure on bruises wasn’t the sort of thing a man wanted to wake up to…

    He managed to grab the bottle of vodka from the counter next to the coffeemaker without dripping too much water everywhere. Some half-drunk yuppie kid gave it to him last night at the bar, wobbly with martinis and Zeta’s blowjob. Kid wasn’t half-bad at it himself, Zeta’s lower brain reminded him, but he swigged the vodka instead of focusing on his morning leftover reaction.

    Didn’t taste nearly as good as it had the night before. The label read “Grey Goose Vodka” with a picture of a fjord and geese flying overhead against some mountains.

    Mountains…

    Hell, he tried everything else…

    Then he heard it. The door rattled and jiggled, then the unmistakable turn of a key. He snatched his gun off the towels by the toilet and waited, heart pounding.

    “Hey, gorgeous, I’m back!”

    The aroma of eggs, bacon and coffee hit Zeta’s nose like a steam train and his stomach yowled like a starving cheetah. Christ. Why did his assailant have to bring food? He’d be a helluva lot easier to shoot if he’d been some snaggle-toothed asshat with body odor.

    Of course not. It was the yuppie from the bar.

    Christ. How the hell much Vodka did Zeta drink?

    And what the hell was the kid’s name?

    “I know you said you’re in a hurry to get to Oxnard, so I got breakfast for us. Oh, good. You’re almost done.” The yuppie set the food on the table by the window and grinned at Zeta. His large brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and smile lines just starting by his mouth gave him a friendly appearance.

    Yup, he was as hot now as he was in the bar, vodka or no vodka.

    And he was stripping… A steady pile of discarded clothing littered the floor behind him as he approached Zeta. “You just let ol’ Chico wash your back, hmm?”

    Zeta stubbed his toe getting out of the shower. “No, I really can’t. Monroe will kill me if I’m late.” He paused, a towel in his hands. “You go by ‘Boy’ in Spanish?”

    Chico shrugged, stepping into the water but not quite closing the curtain all the way. Man, he had a nice ass!

    “My nickname is Chico, so that’s what I put on my fake I.D. You really go by the letter ‘Z’?”

    Zeta flushed. “My name’s Alex.”

    “’Xander’ begins with an ‘X’.” Chico winked. “And my name is Pedro.”

    “To my best friend in grammar school, Xander sounds like a ‘Z’.”

    “What was her name?” Chico finished in record time and joined Zeta on the mat to dry off. He pulled the towel out of Zeta’s hands and finished his back with quick movements that reawakened all of Zeta’s senses, then slapped his ass. “Go eat while I finish. We have to get on the road.”

    “How do you know it was a girl?” Zeta dressed in jeans and his Elvis t-shirt, sandals and a belt. He stuffed the rest of his clothes into his duffel and then went to investigate the food.

    “Because no dude would name you Zeta.” Chico bent and kissed his neck, then whispered in his ear. “So hurry up and eat, will ya? I want to see if you make as much noise driving when I go down on you as you did last night.”

    Zeta’s heart started pounding. This was seventeen kinds of stupid, but damned if he wasn’t gonna do it. Monroe didn’t have to know about his new partner, and besides.

    It would make the drive go a lot faster.

    He grinned at Chico, chewing a bite of bacon and eggs, and the most gorgeous yuppie latino on two legs grinned back.

    Damn fine truck stop.

  • Dear Sarah

    My feather touch stilled the spinning ballerina. Dulcet tones ground to a low chirrup as I closed the lid. Playing the music box always put my daughter right to sleep. Nothing else worked as well.

    Except she no longer rested her sweet head in this bed. The canopied top fluttered gaily in the spring breeze. I washed all the bedclothes just the day before, careful to clean out the dust while preserving the pastel unicorns and rainbows.

    Tears burned my eyes. Why was she taken from me?

    Us, I mentally corrected.

    I still didn’t know whether to blame fate or some higher power. There always seemed plenty of time to sort out my adult faith before I tried to instill any sort of beliefs in our little girl. Some sort of church waited for that future agenda.

    Kat, poor baby, you never even got to attend Sunday School, let alone do all those other things we planned for you.

    “Sarah, I’m home. Where are you?”

    I froze, debating what excuse to use. Chester already strode down the hall. I jerked my hand from the music box and began brushing imaginary dust off the shelf.

    “Sarah? Sarah, she’s gone, babe. When are you going to accept that?”

    Never. “I’m sorry it’s taking me so much time, Ches.”

    “Don’t apologize. Although you must admit it would help if we cleared out all this stuff.”

    Imagining he really wanted to say “junk”, I bristled. My vehemence sent my long hair flying about my face.

    “You have to move on,” he crooned, gesturing to the shelf now supporting my balance. “We should start with this thing. Some needy little girl would love to own something like her music box. It’s the way Kat would have wanted it, I’m sure.”

    Our fingers met on the pink and cream colored wood. I moved to pull Kat’s birthday gift protectively toward my chest. I didn’t want to give it up.

    Unfortunately, Chester’s grip didn’t relent as expected. Neither of us won our sudden tug-of-war. Instead, my stubbornness sent the little case spinning.

    My left hand shot out but my attempt backfired and I smacked the falling ojbect away. Instead of bouncing harmlessly across the carpet, Kat’s beloved music box struck the wall.

    Crack!

    I think I moaned – a guttural sound. Several pieces rattled along the plaster and baseboard.

    End over end, the helpless ballerina flew. I, in turn, flew out of the room, my husband’s cry of apology not stopping me. Meaningless words, an expletive, and my drawn-out name followed me through the house. I scooped my purse from the end table and tore through the front door, my feet pounding down the concrete steps.

    What am I doing? The music box is just a thing. My eyes blurred. But she loved it.

    I reached my car and nearly bruised myself against the side, momentum and adrenalin pushing me forward. My hand felt numb as I fished for my keys. I stabbed the one for the sedan into the driver’s side door lock. It somehow seemed faster than finding the right button on the fob.

    Chester reached the swinging screen door. Sad eyes pleaded with me to stay.

    The engine roared to life. Barely checking for oncoming traffic, I roared into the street and drove away.

    Eventually I got somewhat lost, knowing that I’d find my way if only my head would quit pounding so I could think. A convenient parking lot offered a place to stop and get my bearings, to calm down.

    “Kat’s Attic”, the sign proclaimed. I shut off the engine and got out, clinging to my handbag.

    What the heck.

    I began wandering the aisles, breathing in a scent that reminded me of my late mother’s childhood home. My frugal but doting grandparents forever kept their same furnishings and trinkets. Some of what I saw would have fit in perfectly. Mom would have liked this, though not as much as she would have loved being a grandmother, herself.

    Determinedly I swallowed back that old sorrow and inhaled the aroma of aged wood. I detected a touch of mustiness, without the cloying choke of real rot, and it took me back to playing in the basement at my grandfather’s side while he puttered in his workshop.

    Then I saw the item least expected. Lifting the lid, I watched the tiny dancer spin on her toe.

    “That just came in today,” an unfamiliar voice proclaimed. “I bought out an estate sale from the weekend. There’s a nice set of jewelry from it if you’re interested. The lady must have had the box as an adult, oddly.”

    I jerked my head around and beheld a kindly face. “I’m just looking, really. I suppose these music boxes aren’t that uncommon but it’s exactly like one my daughter… my husband and I… have… had… at home.”

    For a moment the lady, presumably Kat, looked speechless. I wanted to slip through the cracks in the floor. Finally, she spoke.

    “There’s an inscription if you turn it over, though I don’t know why I’m telling you that. The words couldn’t mean anything to you. I’m not even sure what they mean, exactly, though they sound tragic. Anyway, I’m Kat if you need anything.”

    I turned the box over and read.

    Dear Sarah, always remember that God keeps close the little children. Love, Momma, Grandma, and Grandpa

    Ten dollars bought the music box. The priceless message brought peace of mind. Chester and I cleaned out Kat’s bedroom that weekend, keeping certain things and donating those useful to charity.

    The little ballerina stayed on the shelf ever since, even as we brought in a crib for Kat’s new baby sister. I only wish they could have met.

  • Flash Fiction Friday

    If you want a little escapism, click below and enjoy a short read…

    Sand Castles – NC17

    Taurus and Taurus

  • Flash Fiction Friday

    Better late than never, we’d like to celebrate the beginning of what we hope turns out to be a relaxing weekend. Please enjoy a free read.

    Darla’s Sand Castles – NC17