Yes, it’s been awhile. That’s okay. So, today I’ve got something from another one of Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction challenges. This time, he chose ten titles from the previous one and made us choose one to write the story to. The challenge can be found here. Clearly, I chose The Blood Lottery. It’s a bit of a return to form for me as I’ve been rather uncreative as of late. Hopefully, it passes muster. Continue reading “The Blood Lottery”
Another week, another flash fiction challenge from Chuck Wendig. This time it centers around the seven deadly sins. You know which ones. We had to pick a sin and write a story based off our interpretation of it. I won’t tell you which sin I chose, hopefully you can pull it from the story (but it’s hopefully not too obvious). So, enough stalling, the story’s after the break. Continue reading “The Seventh”
So, I’m back. (Whether I’m also better than ever, I’ll leave as an exercise for the reader.) I’ve decided to use my return to do one of Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction challenges. The challenge this time was to pick a sentence and use it as the opening sentence to a story. I won’t tell you what I picked, as it’s the first sentence of my story (duh), but I will give you a link to the challenge, here. The story is after the break. Continue reading “My Lucky Coin Toss”
Here’s an entry for Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction challenge. (Yes, I know, I haven’t posted since the last challenge. Shut up.)
This weeks challenge was to generate a random cocktail and use the name as our title. Mine was Iguana #2, obviously. I dutifully drank this while writing.
And without further ado, here is Iguana #2.
Charles ducked around the corner to hide in a darkened alleyway. The dark wouldn’t protect him much, but it did, at least, make him feel a little better. He relaxed his muscles and willed his body to be a little colder. They would be to his alley in a few seconds and if he was extremely lucky, they would pass him by. Continue reading “Iguana #2”
“Once upon a time, there was a story so short, it was only a single line.”
That’s what my father always said to me when he’d tuck me in at night. I always thought it was just his little joke. You know, the thing he’d say so he wouldn’t have to tell me a real bedtime story? As I grew older, though, he never once wavered. He swore to me that it was real, but it wasn’t the one he told me every night. He said it was the greatest and most powerful story ever told. It even had it’s own book, he claimed, but just one. He said he even read it. He said, if I ever read it, it would change my life forever. He said a lot of things about this story that was only a single line. I didn’t believe any of them.
Continue reading “The Most Important Line”