The TravelerShe blew in on the last day of summer, arriving just as the wind began, clutching an artist’s portfolio and a hatbox. There was wonder and wisdom in her bright blue eyes, softened by time and crow’s-feet, and a perfect maple leaf the color of flame was caught in her unruly red hair… her perfume hinted of woodsmoke and oak tannins and the spice of faraway, foreign ports. I helped her carry her hatbox from the train station, and when she smiled at me, I knew everything was about to change.The Traveler3 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
We shared a cab to the little seaside town where we were both staying, there on the cusp of the world; it had long been one of my favorite places, my secret getaway. When life became too stagnant, the city sweltering in summer’s re-radiated heat, I spent a few days on the shore, staring out across the limitless horizon and dreaming of shanghaied sailors and full-bellied canvas tugging the great ships to the Orient, groaning hulls full of timber from forests that once seemed inex
Six Word Stories: PainOxycodone: relief spawns bitter, brutal dreams.Six Word Stories: Pain3 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Six Word Stories: Sleep of ReasonMonster head: my bloodthirsty, vindictive fantasies.Six Word Stories: Sleep of Reason3 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Six Word Stories: ConfessionCrazy cat lady: I admit it.Six Word Stories: Confession3 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Six Word Stories: OldGrey: when did I become old?Six Word Stories: Old3 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Six Word Stories: JettaTailless cat: cannot resist the nubbin.Six Word Stories: Jetta3 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
PoliticsKingdoms shatter under well placed wordsPolitics2 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The shoreLife is ever changing, like the dunes on the beach. With the passing of each tide things are washed away, buried, and replaced. Life is like that.The shore2 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Nothing is permanent, sorrow, joy, pain, everything will change. Everything will fade and allow for something new. The only thing in life that should never change is honor and integrity. Like the sea and the sky, these things should be constant; they shape you, heal you, and make you strong. Live your life with honor and integrity, never give less than your best, and if you do these things no one can ask for more, and you will never know regrets.
Pain will heal, human lives are fragile and even joy that has come from years of friendship can end in moments, leaving only sorrow. Just as storms will come and wash away the sand, leaving behind a faint shadow of the previous scene. But in time the wind and the waves will rebuild everything that was lost, in a stronger and beautiful way. Just as the memories that you hold and the new friends
Brain Death! Dreadfully Pedestrian16/2/2315Brain Death! Dreadfully Pedestrian3 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My name is Mösser, a name meaning "an occupational name for a producer or seller of unfermented grape juice, known as must". I've never tasted must, let alone seen it in any of the shops here in my city of Bayiv, but I digress.
People call me M, Moss, Mossy, or Mösser. I prefer M. It makes me sound enigmatic, like a detective's contact in an old movie. But everything I do in life seems dreadfully... Pedestrian. People pass through, moving from city to city, timezone to timezone, steadily with a purpose. I stand here, like the wooden bear outside O'Malley's Alley, the pub downtown (I just turned 21 so I finally don't have to be the designated driver). What I mean is, I feel like furniture in a boarded up hotel. Static. I'm just kneeling at my headstone, writing my own epitaph.
Things need to change.
Brain Death! The Troubled Moth-BoyThe sun shines on the Parisian streets, just rising to greet the melancholic city with its brilliant radiance. Shadows are cast; a boy, and a woman, walking towards a small coffee shop beneath the gaze of a three-story apartment complex. The skyline is stunning, the sun bathing everything in a light orange haze. It’s dominated by a large steel tower, and the city expands outward, and not upward. The boy takes a seat at a table, and the woman goes inside. The boy is uneasy, and dressed in a white tee with crude disposable pants on. He has a band on his wrist, saying amidst numbers and dashes, “PATIENT”, beneath the date “4/11/95”.Brain Death! The Troubled Moth-Boy2 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
After a short while, the woman walks out of the shop with a tray of coffee and pastries. She sits down, and interrupts the patient’s anxious placidity.
“Croissant?” She asks.
The patient responds, “No thanks, but thank you.” He bites his u