September Flash Fiction
short stories in microdoses
spider
“Smashing plan!”
My manager slaps me on the back, his familiarity delivered with its usual sting. He’ll take credit for my idea, as always, once the client is satisfied.
When the spider’s leg curves over his neck, I can’t fight the temptation. It’s fast, escaping as I smack his skin. My manager howls and I think, yes, it’s smashing, indeed.
friends
“Turn it off!”
We’ve been friends since high school, but I can’t handle this anymore. Sharing a living space seemed like a good idea, but over the past year, she’s developed an addiction to the worst TV show ever. I’m not sure how I’ll pay for an apartment on my own, but lines have been drawn. Reasoning and arguing haven’t convinced her to respect my point of view, so it’s up to me to make a stand.
I walk out for the last time, the door slamming while the last notes of I’ll Be There For You mock my defeat.
mist
The tiny droplets hang suspended in the air as I slowly turn, spinning around and around in a way the world no longer does. The sudden cold turns the thick mist into sharp edges, but my head swells with blood, my brain devoured by fire, and I feel no pain. Shouldn’t the end come in fierce like a bang, as in the beginning, rather than as this slow, searing roar?
eyes
Don’t make the same mistake I did.
He doesn’t like to be observed. Sure, you might think he isn’t paying attention, and it’s easy enough to take a peek while he’s not looking, his focus apparently elsewhere.
But as soon as you bend over and fix your gaze through the hole in the wooden fence, he’ll be in your face in a flash. The damp, scarlet-sticky patch over my eye should be more than enough to convince you, but go ahead if you must. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
seasons
Patterns of gold and orange shift across the kitchen floor, the sunrise announcing itself earlier than it did yesterday morning. We embrace the light we’ve missed during the winter, wondering where the sun hid when snow covered the trees. While it shows favor upon us with each new day, we know the brightness won’t last, but we pretend we forgot the abandonment. We dance in the summer rain as the sunlight splashes over our skin, the damp grass beneath our feet slippery and cool, and when the days grow shorter, we stare longingly at the fading sunsets with reluctant thanks.
these microdoses were inspired by prompts from
at The Fiction Dealer, and previously shared as individual Notes. Thanks for the inspiration, Miguel!I don’t drink coffee anymore but I adore matcha. You can buy me one or just click over and take a look at some random photos and snag a free black cat lined notebook page PDF to print or use with any PDF annotation app.
