Tag Archives: flash fiction

The Wolf’s Mate

wolf

Found at National Geographic Kids

He was loping at the edge of the Presidio Golf Course when he caught a familiar smell on the breeze. At first he thought it was prey, but he had no interest in prey, having eaten a rather large hare not half an hour before.

She was maybe half a mile away as humans measure distance, but he could hear her and the other one very clearly.

However, it was her scent that attracted him. Not prey but something else, but not wolf, so not safe. Human, so not safe. But then why did he want to get closer?

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To Fly Again

car in woods

© Tim Livingston

Every year, Norm would take a vacation from his job as an aeronautics engineer at Hughes Aircraft to go hiking in the Sierra Nevada mountains.

Norm liked to cut his own rough trails through the forest, which was why he was so surprised when he came across the old DeSoto. 1947 or 48 by the looks of her. His Dad owned one like it when Norm was a kid.

The trunk was half open. There was something bulky inside. Norm pulled the lid free and unwrapped the heavy, oiled canvas tarp.

“Oh my God, it can’t be.”

He remembered the old newsreels and stories his Dad told him about the hero. He wore a metal helmet, and with his rocket pack, fought the Nazis in the 30s and 40s. He’d disappeared without a trace. How his equipment got here, Norm couldn’t figure, but he knew he could get the old engine working.

With the Soviet threat looming and the race to the Moon heating up, it was time for the Rocketeer to fly again.

rocketeer

The Rocketeer – created by Dave Stevens

I wrote this in response to the FFfAW Challenge-Week of March 14, 2017. The idea is to use the photo prompt at the top to write a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words, with 150 being ideal. My tale comes in at 174 words. Wish it was less, but I needed that many words to do the set up for my reveal.

To read more stories based on the prompt, visit InLinkz.com.

You can tell only by inference, but I set my story in the early 1960s. My late father-in-law worked at Hughes Aircraft, founded by the famous aviator and inventor Howard Hughes. The corporation no longer exists and Hughes is long dead, but I decided to use the company because it made a nice connection to the Rocketeer’s period in history. The comic book character was created by Dave Stevens in 1982 as an homage to the Saturday matinee serial heroes of the 30s and 40s.

In the 1991 film starring Billy Campbell in the lead role, a fictionalized Howard Hughes actually invented the rocket pack, which was stolen by gangsters and hastily stashed in stunt pilot Cliff Secord’s plane.

In both the comic book and film, Secord uses the rocket pack to become the superhero the Rocketeer. The story of this retro-hero is one of my guilty pleasures. I’d love to see the Rocketeer fly again.

The Old Astronaut

spacesuit

© A Mixed Bag 2012

I finally made it. The Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. Never thought I’d get the chance to visit. I always wanted to see all these exhibits. I spent my childhood, my whole life really, admiring astronauts and their accomplishments. I used to spend hours pretending I was wearing a spacesuit, just like the one I’m standing in front of now.

It doesn’t look as impressive in real life, but then, it’s just an empty suit. What makes spacesuits heroic are the men and women who’ve worn them, who were blasted into space, who walked on the Moon. I was in high school when Neil Armstrong wore this suit and declared, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

I wish I could have had my shot at even sub-orbital space. I can afford a tourist’s ride on SpaceX now, but I’m too old.

My grandson’s not, though. Next month he and five other astronauts will be launched from the Kennedy Space Center to the International Space Station, and from there, they’ll board the Ares One spaceship to Mars. I’ve got my shot into space because my grandson will always be in my heart. Thank you, boy.

I’m writing this in response to the Sunday Photo Fiction – March 12th 2017 hosted by Al Forbes. The idea is for authors to use the photo prompt above to write a piece of flash fiction no more than 200 words. My story is exactly 200 words long.

Oh, I really did grow up with the NASA manned space missions, from Mercury, to Gemini, to Apollo, and beyond. I even got a chance to see and touch (I wasn’t supposed to touch it) one of the Apollo command modules once, although I’ve never been to the Smithsonian’s Air and Space Museum (I wish). I’ll never go into space, but my grandchildren’s generation will. To the Moon, Mars, and beyond.

To read other tales based on the photo, go to InLinkz.com.

Robin at the Brazen Head

© Google – July 2014

“I’m tellin’ ya mate, he would come in and drink right here. This is a really famous pub, oldest in Ireland.”

The skeptical American tourist listened to his half-inebriated friend. “Sean, you’re one of my best friends, and I’m glad you’re showing me around Dublin on my visit, but you can’t be serious.”

“Michael, you believe James Joyce drank here, Jonathan Swift, even Van Morrison graced the Head with his presence. Why not him?”

“Because he’s fictional.”

“Fictional, hah! He still haunts the place and I can prove it.”

“How?”

Sean pulled Michael off his bar stool and half-dragged him to the stone outside. “See, Robin of Loxley be relievin’ himself right there.”

The archer in green finished and turned to give the two men an evil look for interrupting his privacy.

This was inspired by the What Pegman Saw photo challenge. The Google maps image comes direct from Dublin and depicts what is arguably Ireland’s oldest pub.

The idea is authors are supposed to write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words based on the photo above. My story is 132 words long.

I looked up The Brazen Head and legend has it that Robin Hood used to drink there. A story from NBC News states that Robin not only got intoxicated at the pub, but did indeed relieve himself on the old stone outside.

To see more stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

Burning the Bridge to Heaven

campfire

campfire

The night fire on the beach burned bright and hot. I stared into its warmth and chaos for hours. It held the end of everything I was, everything I thought I’d ever be. I could still feel blood dripping down my back. I cut off my wings and incinerated them.

I got the prompt for this one from Iain Kelly’s blog. He wrote a 50 word story based on the photo above in response to the Scottish Book Trust’s 50-Word Fiction Competition for March. Not sure if I should enter the contest, since I’m not particularly keen on “winning” anything. My story is exactly 50 words. Let me know what you think.

Tahji’s Freedom

bug

© Shaktiki Sharma

Tahji was curious. He’d never seen so many people before. He half hid behind the post to get a better look through the doorway. They were talking their people talk. Tahji could understand a little of it when one talked, but they were all speaking at once. It was so confusing. Perhaps if he got closer.

“There you are, little one.” It was Tahji’s child-friend Rohan.

“You shouldn’t wander off like this. You might have gotten lost.”

Tahji saw Rohan was carrying his ornate little home. The door was open.

“So soon?” The mantis had been enjoying his freedom.

I wrote this in response to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers photo challenge. The idea is for authors to use the photo prompt above to create a piece of flash fiction no longer than 100 words long. Mine is 100 words.

To read other stories based on this prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

The Lost Steinway

piano

© Mike Vore

Of all places, she found it in the first floor public men’s room in a deserted hotel in upstate New York. It was Monday, September 2, 1985, 4:35 a.m. In less than two hours, the demolition crew would be here to level the place. They would have destroyed this priceless treasure.

NaCumbea placed her hand gently on the tarp covering the old Steinway. “I know a couple who would love to take care of you, beautiful.”

She expanded the field radius of her time jump suit to include the piano and set her coordinates for the distant future in a parallel quantum reality. Wyatt Ellison and Josue Hunter were protectors of rare historical artifacts. NaCumbea knew they’d take good care of the last piano Bill Evans played before he died.

It didn’t exist in their reality, but it did in hers, so she agreed to find it for them. After all, she owed them one.

I’m probably cheating a bit since these flash fiction stories are supposed to be stand-alones, but I couldn’t help leveraging not only my Martin Fields and NaCumbea time travel stories, but also a separate series involving the characters Wyatt Ellison and Josue Hunter, who I also referenced in my recent story Unraveling.

The photo prompt is from FFfAW Challenge-Week of March 07, 2017 hosted by Priceless Joy. The idea is to use the prompt above to create a story between 100 and 175 words, with 150 being the ideal target. My story is 156 words long.

To read other stories based on this prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

Is That You Talking?

urns

© Dawn M. Miller

I bought the one that said “Corona Extra” on it because it looked cool. Now that I’ve got the place to myself, I decided I wanted to be able to make a small fire on the back patio for those cold evenings when I needed to be comforted.

“Ouch! That’s hot!”

It’s the first time I try lighting a fire in the urn.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said the fire’s hot.”

“But that’s what you’re for, to burn a fire in. Look, it’s a cool evening and I’d rather enjoy a warm fire while sitting on the patio.”

“Too bad”. The thing actually closes its mouth and smothers the flames. I toy with the idea of calling over my next door neighbor to witness this strangeness but decide against it.

“Oh don’t be surprised I can talk. You’re so lonely, you’ll believe anything can keep you company.”

“You mean…?”

“Call your son and his wife. I’ll bet they’ll be glad to bring the grandkids over.”

“But I thought…”

“Just because you’re divorced, doesn’t mean your kids don’t love you anymore. Go on. Make the call.”

I pick up my cell and the urn goes silent forever.

I wrote this for Sunday Photo Fiction – March 5th 2017 hosted by Al Forbes. The challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction no longer than 200 words based on the photo prompt above. My story is 199 words.

To read more stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

The Old Neighborhood

St Louis

© Google – August 2012

I didn’t realize how long it had been since I’d last seen the old neighborhood, the one my Grandpa lived in when I was a little boy. I took my grandson not realizing that everyone living there now was African-American. Seth and I stood out quite a bit. No one seemed mad, but they all stared at us, like we didn’t belong.

“Jimmy! It’s been a long time.”

I turned to the house across the street. I couldn’t believe it.

“Ronnie!” I ran up to the old man, the child I played with over fifty years ago. We hugged.

“I can’t believe you still live in the old ‘hood.”

“It’s always been my home, Jimmy. When we were kids, I was the one who stuck out. Now things have changed.

He looked down at my grandson and smiled. “Who have you brought to visit us?”

Today’s piece of flash fiction was inspired by the photo prompt at What Pegman Saw. Authors are supposed to use the photo at the top to create a short work of no more than 150 words. Mine comes in at 145.

The photo is of a neighborhood in St. Louis, but it’s not all that different from the one my Grandpa lived in back in Omaha in the early 1960s when I was a child. I’ve heard it’s changed a lot, probably like this place in St. Louis has changed over the long decades. Still, some parts of the world will always be home.

To read other stories inspired by this prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

My Published Stories at “Theme of Absence”

I’ve been devoting the vast majority of my fiction writing lately to my own blog, but I do have two of my stories published elsewhere. They don’t appear on my blog because one of the conditions of publication was that they be totally unique works.

Both of them are at Theme of Absence.

The first story, The Anything Box was published last September, and tells the tale of a lonely teenage girl’s encounter with a strange object and how it connects her to her deceased Father.

The second story is called The Stalker, and it portrays another teenage girl’s meeting with something incredibly horrible while hiking in the woods. I had originally written it for a Halloween contest (I lost), but it ended up being published in general stories.

I haven’t mentioned them in a while, so I thought I’d dust them off and present them again. Each story is just under 1,000 words so they’re pretty fast reads.

If you have a moment or two, click the links, read my stories, and let me know what you think.

Thanks.