Category: Flash Fiction

(I wrote this after watching the first episode of House of the Dragon and seriously want to begin my trilogy series or at least make it into one big book but first I have to finish my second novel idea). In the stillness of the day, I sit hunched forward on my wooden chair. I’m…

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(For a while now, I’ve wanted to write a novella about the journey of a person’s view of her or his evolution when it deals with gender, sexuality, and growing up. I still want to write a novel about the circus life that is centered around a character, a freak if you will in being…

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The miscommunication was there. I had told him several times, to be exact, about four. It was four times I told him not to go in there, don’t go into that place where she visits, you don’t belong there in any way. What did he do the following night? The fucker went in there with…

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This is based on a recent dream I had which actually was from last night but who’s counting. I entered the room and realized it was a deep room, spacious and long with no decorations. There should be no decorations in a room like this because this was a sterile type of setting without syringes…

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I should’ve known better. He was not the man of wisdom. He was the analyzer that probed too much. Whatever was in his hands, he inspected it until it had grown weary of his attention. The reason I know this is because I was his assistant. I was the one who picked him up when…

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No matter what you do, your glasses are always dirty. They smudge up quickly, even in the best of intentions, as you are careful. This is what you found out when you put on your mask for the first time and hundreds of times after that. It wasn’t like you had a choice. You didn’t…

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Three months ago I recently finished the last chapter of my life. It wasn’t great nor was it bad. It simply existed in human form, in some way, and in some fashion. Some people might see this as dark. Others might see it as written garbage. I tend to be wordy and weird in the…

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(It’s been a long time since I’ve written a story of any kind. I made this up on the fly. Of course, some things I’ve been thinking about in the past few weeks showed up. No editing and just writing). It had taken too long. What should’ve been a quick activity ended up being something…

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He opened the book to the middle of his masterpiece. He had written it long ago. His eyes were not as good as they had been a year ago. The days had crept upon his heart. The nights had sickened his lungs. He should have smoked less cigars and pipes when he in his youth.…

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