My new collection, Fragments & Fancies: Ficlets, Flash Fiction & Shorts is now available for FREE on Smashwords. Here’s the official description: Three vampires walk into a bar… A suicidal widower is talked down by a mysterious, chain-smoking stranger with an ulterior motive… A picturesque sea-side chalet harbors a disturbing Read more…
*Note: All entries on Ficlets, including mine, are posted under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 License. All unattributed writing is by me. All otherwise-attributed writing is [sic].
Two Sizes Too Small
“What the hell is that?”
It was all she could do not to drop the thing in her hands, it wriggled so much. Unfathomably, the look on her face was pure delight. “My new puppy. Isn’t she adorable?” Her voice was one octave short of a squeal.
“That is not a dog. To call it a dog is an insult to dogkind.”
“Not a dog yet.” She held it close and let it lick her face. I almost dry heaved. “Granted, she won’t get much bigger. Chihuahuas stay pretty teeny.”
A chihuahua. Great. Cheese on crackers, I hated tiny dogs. Anything smaller than a beagle was a waste of space and fur. And this abomination would fit in my shirt pocket.
“Here, hold her.” She thrust it at my face. I just stood there. It looked like it belonged in a rat trap.
Except, rats didn’t wag their tales, nor become so happy at the sight of you that their entire bodies wiggled. A strange sensation warmed my chest. I didn’t like where this was going.
She sneezed. Aw, shit. That was cute.
“Put her in my pocket,” I sighed.
She was a perfect fit.
*Note: All entries on Ficlets, including mine, are posted under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 License. All unattributed writing is by me. All otherwise-attributed writing is [sic].
This is one where I cheated and kept sequeling myself to write a longer story. It’s actually a pared down, revamped version of a longer story I wrote years ago.
UPDATED because I can sign into Ficlets now.
One For the Angels (Conversations With Dead People Challenge)
*Note: All entries on Ficlets, including mine, are posted under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 License. All unattributed writing is by me. All otherwise-attributed writing is [sic].
Roommate Tactics
*Note: All entries on Ficlets, including mine, are posted under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 License. All unattributed writing is by me. All otherwise-attributed writing is [sic].
Fairytale Ending
*Note: All entries on Ficlets, including mine, are posted under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 License. All unattributed writing is by me. All otherwise-attributed writing is [sic].
WAITING
There she is, in the coffee shop window. She stares out—not at you, but toward you, not really looking at anything. Maybe at the odd snowflake drifting down from the sky.
She has all the appearance of waiting.
For someone, maybe. Her Valentine. The jerk who stood her up. A love she has yet to know.
You.
Maybe. Maybe, you’ve been waiting for her, too.
So you go inside. She looks up. Smiles. Stands, ties on her apron, picks up her pad and pencil and asks to take your order.
She was just waiting for her break to end.
So Ficlets is shutting down as of Thursday, and the kind folks over at AOL didn’t provide any way to archive or import entries other than “Cut & paste and get off our lawn!” Fortunately, other folks have kindly taken it upon themselves to import all unlocked entries into their Read more…
I once knew this girl. She wasn’t like the rest of us. She had a special power, one that made her the envy of every woman who ever knew her. You know how some women joke about how they just look at a piece of cake and gain two pounds? Read more…
This is the seed of something that will very likely become my next NaNoWriMo project. *** Splinters from the boards over the window dug into her back as strong hands pinned her there with only half as much force as they were able. She would have bruises later, but so Read more…
I feel better now, and I wrote a whole five-part Ficlet story that starts here. I actually hid in the bathroom for my necessary fifteen minutes, holding my head in my hands. It worked wonders for my ability to think straight.