CandlesIt started with Norma Jean. She up and disappeared six years ago, and the whole town left too, one by one. First, it was people moving away from the stares and whispers, looking for a place without shadows. Three hundred became two hundred. Then Crazy Dan shot himself. Then it was people moving away from a dying town.Candles1 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Then it was locked houses, locked stores, owners stepping out for a break and never coming back. Two hundred became one hundred. Beth just left the water running in the diner, dishes piled high in the sink. They’re still there. Grammy Maple went down the road to buy an extra skein of yarn – no one knows what happened to her. Flint Jackman left his denim coat at the post office, and his mail just piles up in the box now. I kept the coat.
Then, it was just me and the mail.
It’s been long enough now that some of the mailboxes are completely stuffed. The Janeies still get letters and catalogues from somewhere. That fancy shaving kit Alder ordered finally cam
The Skipping Second HandThe kitchen was the last place he wanted to be.The Skipping Second Hand1 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Harold walked in anyway – the brown paper bag rustled against his chest – and he set his groceries on the counter. His hands trembled and he started to grind his teeth as he put each item away. An artichoke jar almost slipped from his fingers but he caught it before it shattered on the tiles. His temples throbbed. His nostrils filled with a faint smell of spoiled milk.
When he walked by the table, daring a glance, his breath hitched.
Today’s paper – already a yellow flaking onion – sat there looking like it had made good friends with the lawn for a few weeks. He thought it might crumble if even a butterfly landed on it. Harold didn’t touch it.
He flicked the lights off and retreated to the living room. The man found himself cringing at the tortured creak of the cabinet hinges. It never could stay shut for long. He crumpled into the relief of his armchair. The table next to him overflowed with many unrea
Fuck Yeah!I heard a sound and turned towards the window where I half expected to see vampires hovering outside the fucking window a la Keifer fucking Sutherland et al in The Fucking Lost Boys...Fuck Yeah!1 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I cannae get no fucking sleep. Its all fucking Radiofucking head in me fucking ears. Fucking falseletto. Fucking reflection.