Monday, February 29, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Elven Employment

“Now where did I park?”
Wonder Woman* #quote

Did you know that one in ten hamburgers is a hamburger? And so are the other nine! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Elven Employment

         The elves worked and worked, painting the eggs. Huh? Were you expecting elves to be working on presents? No, that's what they do in winter working for Santa Claus. Everybody needs a job, and right after Christmas the elves pack up and go work for the Easter Bunny, who is just as ruthlessly strict a boss. Can't miss a single stroke of magic paint or else an egg will go bad while it waits in the Easter Bunny's massive warehouse from January until Easter day for him to deliver. And after they finished working for the Easter Bunny it was straight back to working for Santa, making toys for the many months before Christmas so there would be enough for him to deliver.

       At least the Headless Horseman always invites all the elves to his Halloween parties.

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Wizard's Virus

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results.”
Wile E. Coyote* #quote

Heading to a smash bros tournament with my friend CJ today, so that'll be fun. Hopefully one of us will win. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Wizard's Virus

         “Aw, crud no.” The wizard banged his hand on his keyboard and then frantically clicked around with his mouse checking all his spell files. Text documents of magic words, pictures of runes, spreadsheets of magical creature species. He looked through his entire computer and almost all his data was ruined and hacked. Files missing and damaged. “What happened?”
           His Internet browser was still open from the night before. Looking at that he realized what happened. He downloaded pirated enchantment data for school. When he downloaded it he thought “What's one stolen spell gonna cost me?”. But apparently whoever uploaded the data for the enchantment file, hid a virus inside. All the magically formed programs and files loaded into the mystic gems in his hard drive(wizards favored gems over disks and other data storage means). All ruined. And maybe even stolen from him.

           A creepy voice then filled the room, “Youuuuu...I'veeeee comeee tooo tormmeennnttt youuuu forrr the ressssttt of yourrrr dayyyssss...” The wizard put his hand to head and moaned. He knew that was a ghost. The illegal enchantment he downloaded was not only a virus, but a curse, that gave him a new ghost haunting his computer. Maybe he should have just downloaded the enchantment legally.

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Various Reincarnation's Of Steve Howards

“We have ways of making you talk.”
Jeopardy!* #quote

Personally I'd never want to sleep with the fishes. Everybody tells me they snore. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Various Reincarnations of Steve Howards

Steve Howards, then the man who discovered Steve Howard's body.
The first officer on the scene, next the frightened spectator.
The coroner, then the other victim.
The lead officer on the case, then the reporter.
The anonymous tipper, later the arresting officer.
The prosecution, then the defense, next the judge, later the jury)

The killer.  

Friday, February 26, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Unbeatable Fighter

“Color me surprised.”
Andy Warhol* #quote

Sunshine burns vampire's skin, moonshine makes them tipsy. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Unbeatable Fighter

         I spend every day of the week fighting with other boxers. But I am a noble fighter. I don't hit back. I take every blow. Then, after enough time, my opponents give up and leave. I don't need to block, I don't need to dodge. There is just enough of a strength difference between me and the other fighters that I can win without attacking back.

         They call me the punching bag, do you think you can beat me?

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Today's flashfiction Robots Love Their Work

“What's up doc?”

Mr. Hyde* #quote

If ebooks completely take over...will we have have eshelves? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Robots Love Their Work

         Cars are the prettiest things. So many smooth curves, or jagged edges or so many other varied shapes perfect or flawed in form and thousands of colors to compliment them. Like jewels. They live and die just like people. There are many different types like people but so many of them are just the same so you can learn to know them like facts. Get a greater understanding of them.
         I loved cars. I love cars now. I will love cars forever and ever. I'm a robot with a high level artificial intelligence that works with cars and to make sure I put my all into my creators programmed me to love cars. Isn't it great to love? I love cars more than anything. I love working on cars to make them perfect. Cars are perfect when people love them. So I need to fix them up so people love them. I love fixed up cars. I love cars that I fix up. I love replacing bad parts. I love painting the cars. I love washing the cars. If I didn't have deadlines as a working robot I'd do it slowly to savor working on the cars that came into my shop.
        Do you love cars?

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Home And The Fire

“Twinkle, twinkle little star.”
Galileo* #quote

Gonna hang with my Gma this Friday. It looks to be a possible adventurous adventure I say. Also CJ may come over on Saturday, so that will be another adventurous adventure, so many adventures all the way around eh?

The Home And The Fire

            One of my nerves, called an electrical wire by my residents, sparked and started the fire. The flames build up within me and the smoke starts pushing out everywhere it can. I'm only a house, I can't help myself in such a dire time, I can't call for help when the fire tears through me stronger than a wrecking ball. My owners already managed to run.
          The firemen have come. My salvation! They're pouring water on me and pushing the flames back. The heat that fills me cools, but flames are everywhere within me. The firemen may cleanse the damage from one place, but no sooner do flames come from the roof and sprout out of me like horns.
         Without any people inside of me I hoped that the firemen fought for me with some kind of empathy for homes. I'd lived a long time, fifty years, and had some very classic tastes. But then I noticed that they had a pattern to where they shot their water. They focused on the outside of me. They didn't want to save me. They merely wanted to save other homes. The firemen considered me a lost cause.

        I was doomed to feed the flames until they exhausted. And whatever skeleton that remained of me would not be repaired, but demolished for a new home. On this realization I let my hope fall and just felt the remaining smoke rise out of me into the sky while the fire ate me.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Terry's Life

“It's the little things that matter.”
Lemuel Gulliver* #quote

I remember the last time I remembered something, it was right before the time I remembered that thing I forgot. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Terry's Life

          Terry lived in an expanse of sand, surrounded by inescapable walls. His sole source of water lay on one side of the desert, while his food supply laid on the other. His legs were so weak he couldn't stand, so only a long, arduous crawl could allow him to move from each one. Terry's only true comfort was that whatever force put him in the expanse of sand replenished the food and water whenever he needed more. When he didn't need to desperately crawl from hunger or thirst he could just let his life pass by in lethargy.

         Such was the life of Terry the Turtle.

Monday, February 22, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Shielding Is Only One Option

“To dream the impossible dream.”
Freddy Krueger* #quote

I once wore a t-shirt to a party held by a penguin. It got exceptionally offended. It seems you're always supposed to wear suits at penguin parties. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Shielding Is Only One Option

           There are some in the world who shield themselves from things. Block it out in one way or another. Sometimes a valid defense, like if its weather a home, or if its a social problem a bit of isolation to cool off. Some people shield themselves by pretending the problem isn't their, ignorance is bliss. Those people aren't the worst with dealing with their problems.
           Barry didn't use the shield. He used the sword. And he used it well. A blizzard hit him while he climbed a mountain and he didn't retreat to a cabin like a sane man, he kept climbing, and some crazy resolve kept his body alive. He argued through every social problem, and as far as he was concerned, even if people hated him he was right in the end. He didn't feign ignorance to other problems, he tackled everything that bothered him, whether he was right or wrong. Sometimes he did help himself and other people with his resolve and fighting spirit, but he also caused problems.
           The times when he helped greatly involved charities. He banged on doors for contributions. Banged and banged. However involvement in one of the many charities that he used to help him solve the problems of the world as he teared his sword at it in fury made him catch the smell of something fishy. A small bit of embezzlement from the charity from a politician led him to more embezzlement led him to more and more. He uncovered what could only described as a conspiracy fitting for television.

           And when he presented the proof to the world the politicians slandered him so hard to discredit him that Barry had no choice but to fall on his sword and retreat into isolation. He went back to shielding himself from the problems of the world. However some news journalists did believe him and decided to pick up the sword he left behind, so the politicians were not as safe as they thought...

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Tastiest Food

“Who let the dogs out?”
Cruella de Vil* #quote

You know, everyone keeps asking “find x”. Is x a wanted fugitive? How big of a bounty is on his head for everyone to be talking about it? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Tastiest Food

           The king of the Golden Grasslands, the wealthiest kingdom known, desired a food tastier than any he had before. He'd eaten many delicacies and the most basic of foods as well, eaten anything for the flavor. He enjoyed planning conquest, studying the books in his library, and trying to eat something different for every single meal. He became moody when he ate the same meal within a year.
           His name was King Abborn, though his was called either The Merciless King in war or the The Giving King in peace. He offered rewards for various things, often technological advancements. Since he desired a food tastier than the many he'd eaten before, he offered a massive reward for it. However his merciless nature showed itself in the way he offered the reward. Ten years of prison time faced whoever wasted his time.
          Over one hundred people rotted in cells because of their arrogance in thinking they could top what the king had already found through his many years of paying the top chefs in the kingdoms to make.
          The last one to take the challenge was an odd candidate. He showed no signs of any cooking experience. But he wore a nervous smile, with a hint of deviousness, along with the tattered clothes of a peasant who worked a meager living.
          “It will take me seven hours to prepare the meal,” he told King Abborn.
          “Seven hours!?” The king yelled, “That's crazy!”
          “Yes, and it's a big one, so don't eat anything in the meantime. Do I have your word Milord?”
          The king glared at the peasant, “You've got a lot of guts talking to me like that. Demanding my 'word'. Fine, you have my word. But if this is a waste of my time, the cell you rot in will be extremely unpleasant.” The king looked at the scroll that showed the peasant's name, Carn Kein, and took note of it in case he needed to specifically give an order to give the man a difficult sentence over other peasants.
         The king waited the long seven hours, even having to sleep. Since the last meal he had was yesterday's lunch this made it about fifteen hours since he last ate. He felt hunger. Abborn never felt this as king, even from youth. He always had food and comfort. He kept his word before the meal, and when it was announced he rushed to the dining hall, only keeping royal composure when he entered.
          The peasant put on the table the only thing he knew how to serve, bread and water.
          King Abborn didn't comment on it he merely went to the table and began eating. It was the most delicious thing he'd eaten. After eating it he demanded more and Carn did, having put another few servings aside for the king to demand again and again.
           Carn Kein won the reward, though the king never desired to have food that way again. He also appointed Carn advisor in his court, the peasants insight allowed him to make improvements in the kingdom, and the experience of starvation caused empathy for the king. He released those he put in prison for failing the challenge to give him the tastiest food at the request at Kein. With advise from the peasant King Abborn gained another nickname, Abborn the Wise.

Saturday, February 20, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Coins

“It's hammer time!”
Bob the Builder* #quote

Went to my card game thing today, it was funtastic. Anyway onto the flash fiction!


          The businessman walked on an ocean of coins that streched into the distance. He tried digging into the coins to see if there was a bottom, but six hours of trying led nowhere. So he walked, trying to find something besides coins. He slipped less after the first few days, a certain kind of finesse was needed to walk on the coins. The air was filled with the smell of rust and nowhere was comfortable for him to sleep. His feet often bled after he walked.
          After a few weeks of travel he realized he couldn't die from exposure or starvation. The coins rattled beneath him on a night when a nickel colored moon hung in the sky.

         “Walk far enough and you'll find the door out. That's how your personalized circle of hell works. It's just like jail, serve your time and you're out. Except unlike when you were alive you can't hire fancy lawyers to get yourself out of your crimes and pin it on someone else,” when the demonic voice talked to him the ocean of coins rattled. The voice laughed, “Coins. Fitting for charity embezzler isn't it? Have fun with the rest of your redemption.”  

Friday, February 19, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Subject Matter

“The clothes make the man.”
The Cat In The Hat* #quote

People say “listen to your heart” but all I get is “thump, thump, thump” and I can't really figure out how that applies to anything. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Subject Matter

          Barry spent hours painting in his studio, he painted dragons, fairies, then lawyers and detectives. He painted spies and horror monsters. Though more specifically he painted pictures of books with covers with those things on them. He did not make book covers for a company, he painted books that did not exist and their covers. Sometimes he painted a bookshelf in his work, or he made a table, or just painted the book on a generic background. All with him as the author.
        Barry always wanted to be a writer, but could never do it, he lacked the ability. He was simply terrible at it. Even with a good idea he couldn't make anything remotely publishable. So he painted pictures of what he imagined his books would be if he could write, because painting was what he could do. And he was quite the marvelous painter. But the talent he had wasn't the talent he wanted.

        All around the world there exist those like Barry, but instead may have other talents, and think they should have others instead of there own. Should an athlete be a musician, a musician a sculptor? A which writer's have desires to paint? The grass is always greener on the other side of the talent.

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Sculptor's Pinocchio

“Pull my finger.”
Miss Manners* #quote

I've heard heavy metal, but what about light metal? Or medium metal? Or diet metal? It's not as easy to find those. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Sculptor's Pinocchio

          Geppetto got Pinocchio and Jennifer got Daniel. But Jennifer was a sculptor who made a living statue instead of a living puppet like Pinocchio. Daniel didn't want to be a real boy like the living puppet Pinocchio. He wanted a brother. A statue's instincts made it not want to be alone. The statues that are abandoned are the ones that are alone and out of galleries so Daniel out of his natural needs wanted a brother.
           So Jennifer made a brother and prayed to whatever force gave Daniel life to give the brother life too. Her wish is granted and a brother is had. But instincts are instincts and now both Daniel and brother want more siblings. When Jennifer made another body for a sister for the two boys the being that gave life to Daniel would have ignored just Jennifer but all three of them were praying for life for the sister. The mysterious force gave life to the sister too. The sister wanted a sibling too.
            The family expanded and expanded as the being always took pity on them when they begged for their family to grow. Though the fellow people in the village started to find it strange when Jennifer decided to make herself a bigger and bigger home so spontaneously. And she used to sell so many pieces! Now she hoarded them.
              One sculptor named John grew angry when he noticed some clay missing. He thought that Jennifer had grown so compulsive that she couldn't afford to buy supplies. He thought she stole his. He looked outside and even saw someone running off in the distance to her house, which looked more like a barn, with incredible speed. He barged into Jennifer's home.
             “My God.” He looked at the house to see it filled with the statue children. “This is what she's been making? And all the stolen clothes and toys around town...”
            “A guest!” They all shouted. “We've never had a guest!”
            “There are hundreds of them.” John tried to count them but the children practically stacked on top of each other and climbed on the cabinets and Jennifer had apparently added a basement that they were pouring out of.
            “Come here!” The children shouted. “You can stay for dinner!” The children started to climb on him and drag him into the house.
             “No! I just wanted my clay back!” John tried to fight them off. “Let me go!”
One of the statue children smiled at them. It was one of the ones dragging his left leg. “You mean the clay Daniel stole to make our next brother? Maybe we can name him after you!”
          “That wouldn't work though,” Daniel said as he stood on the kitchen table and the other children dragged John into the room. “Unless we want the brother named John Jr. I just wanted John to be our new Dad. Then again he's a sculptor just like Mom so we can have more and maybe even better brothers and sisters made!”
            John was lifted up high by the children as they cheered. And at the end of the cheer the children all the froze in place. The being that gave them life couldn't let that happen to John and feared what would happen when both John and Jennifer died so the being pulled the life force from the statue children.
           When Jennifer returned home from getting food for herself to see the frozen children and John held up high she dropped to the ground crying.

          “You monster. You did this to them didn't you?” Jennifer screamed while she cried over her statue children. Meanwhile in a faraway place Pinocchio had just become a real boy.  

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Rat And The Cat

“If you keep making that face it'll get stuck like that.”
Pablo Picasso* #quote

Time is a labyrinth of possibilities where you're never truly sure where the next turn will lead you. So the best thing to do is look around and realize the walls of labyrinth are full of paintings of wonderful moments even if some of the walls have some ugly ones with them. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Rat And The Cat

           The cat guarded the home and it chased the rat, as cats should. Nastier than a mouse the rat glared and hissed at the cat, but it ran just like a mouse and lived in a hole just the same. Day in and day out the chase happened. One terrible day the cat managed to grab the rat's tail. The rat managed to get away, but lost the tail.
           Another day, several months later, the rat could not flee to its hole during the chase, but found that the backdoor of the house had been left open. The rat had never been out of the house, he'd been born to a family of rats that lived in that home. But he took his chances. The cat chased the rat through the neighborhood and eventually to an alleyway. In the alleyway the rat thought it found its end, but instead a swarm of rats appeared. They surrounded the cat. The cat ran, and that day it nearly lost its tail.

          The rat still headed back to the house. It's family lived there, and it couldn't leave them even for the safety of the alleyway.

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Photogenic Memory

“A penny saved is a penny earned.”
M.C. Hammer* #quote

How many people took a middle step between “the world is flat” to the “world is round”. Like thinking “the world is triangular”. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Photogenic Memory

                Janice did not possess the trait of photographic memory, rather she possessed photogenic memory. She remembered everything in a lovely way. Nothing was terrible. Everything was edited by her mind to be just fine, interpreted that way, or her mind just lied to itself. This editing occurred about every hour.
               This meant Janice still experienced everything, she just merely remembered it differently. A blessing or a curse? It's difficult for her to wonder, but her mind even edits movies after she's seen them. Every single conversation that hit her poorly was edited. And pain. Pain was re-experienced for the first time every hour if she found the misfortune of meeting it again.
            “What is this!?” Janice screamed one happy, sunny Tuesday. A simple paper cut becomes a new kind of hell at the age of thirty for Janice. Because of her mind's mental editing, she now felt it for the first time and cried like a newborn. Just like she'd done thousands of times before.
              But in about fifteen minutes the next hour mark of mental editing would come and she wouldn't remember the experience and concept of physical pain, and it would become something to be discovered once again. But in the meantime before the next sorrow struck Janice's memory editing would make her one of the most happy people on Earth.

               The question people ask themselves when they meet Janice is should they envy or pity her?

Monday, February 15, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Mysterious Mystery

“What are ya, chicken?”
Colonel Sanders* #quote

If two plus two suddenly equaled five for some reason, then would that make four feel sad since he couldn't add up with his old friends the twos? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Mysterious Mystery

          Ace detective Ken Logan was stumped. No physical evidence was left behind. He couldn't find anything moved or disturbed in a way to tell him what had happened. No witnesses could tell him the truth. How could he crack this case? Find his suspect without any hints?

        Then his memory finally came back to him, revealing the location of the suspect. He didn't leave his keys on the counter, the scene he was examining for evidence of something being moved. They were on kitchen table. He went to the table and apprehended the suspect keys so he could drive to the store and get groceries.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Mechanical Colossus

“I'm just singing in the rain.”
Noah* #quote

If you ever feel bad, try skin lotion, you then might feel good! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Mechanical Colossus

          Exhaust shot from twelve different pipes. The monster of a robot needed three massive engines just to operate its legs. Sixty foot? That would be a good guess of its size, though a bystander would likely be crushed by the monster of a machine's feet before they could pinpoint anything exact. The feet consisted of blocks of steel covered in long claws and tank treads. The legs appeared serpentine, made of some strange alloy that could bend and flex yet support the weight of the construct.
           The body's shape held no symmetry or normal shape. An artist would vomit at the sight of such an ugly polygon with hundreds of sides and random looking angles. Yet those angles served their purpose as out of them positioned in some sort of organized chaos various arms, pipes, cameras, weapons, sensors, speakers and devices of all kinds popped out. Carefully positioned for some kind of optimized functionality, at least in the eyes of the builder of the machine.
             The head served as an entry way as the cockpit was deep in the belly of the beast and the sensors and cameras covered its body. The head was covered in two things: spikes and the door.

             The robot stomped around the backyard of its owner's house. While in the cockpit the owner muttered to himself, “Normally I save this for my evil schemes or world domination plots. But if this doesn't scare away that loud, obnoxious woodpecker I don't know what will.”

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Goysts

“It was love at first sight.”
The Invisible Man* #quote

Don't count your chickens before they hatch, but be sure to count your eggs. Anyway onto the flash fiction!


          Little invisible, intangible creatures exist in another universe just like our own. These creatures, they call themselves goysts, can do nothing to influence the more real world. They just watch, and watch, and keep watching. They can talk and gossip among themselves about the humans they are watching, but in the end they are spectators. The entire universe for them is one big reality show.
         Now instead, imagine these goysts lived here as well. Invisible and intangible, watching you and everyone. How many people would change because they were watching? Would you do anything differently? They'd judge you for what you did, good or bad, but they couldn't tell any humans, family, friends, or police if you're really that mischievous.

         Well, it's not like they're actually watching right? I'm just spinning a tale and there's certainly, absolutely for a fact nobody watching least last time they told me that was true.

Friday, February 12, 2016

Today's #flashfiction LancesQuest

“What goes up must come down.”
Superman* #quote

Y'know since compasses always point to the North Pole it could be that it has nothing to do with magnetism and they're just detecting Santa. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Lance's Quest

          Lance embarked on his quest five years ago, spending what savings he had to begin his journey and living off the land or raiding the dens of demons for treasure to feed himself. Nearly dying became an unfortunate habit for him.
          He became an adventurer to gather enough Summon Stones of Summoning to bring forth a happiness fairy. Happiness fairies are one of the most powerful fairy types. Few have ever gathered enough Summon Stones of Summoning to bring one to them, and get the gift of happiness that these powerful fairies bestow. Scrolls say that the gifts are custom made by the fairy for the one who summons them.
         Lance felt empty in his life, so he went on his quest to find the happiness promised to him. He spent five years delving into the deep lairs of dragons to find Summon Stones of Summoning. The dragons use the warmth of the stone to breed, so they take them from humans and hide them away along with their nests as far away from humanity as they can.
        Lance's long hair was burnt away to a short ragged bush during one of his battles. Further fights dragons turned his once fair skin from youth into a scarred, beaten mess that darkened with many tans from walking long distances in sunlight. His eyes, though still the same bright green that he had when he started his quest five years ago, had a more tired gaze.
       But with those five long years he had them, ten Summon Stones of Summoning. He gathered them on a full moon and brought forth the happiness fairy while he stood in ragged cloth in his camp and his armor on the ground. He still always carried his sword on a sheath in his belt just in case.
         A little golden rosebud with wings appeared and sparkled in the night lighting up the whole forest around him. The summoning had been successful.
         “Now I can finally have my happiness,” Lance smiled.
         The happiness fairy flew a few laps around him and spoke in a voice similar to a a young teenage girl. “I know right? I have been thinking about this for like two years when I realized you'd actually pull it off. Unlike most people that die halfway through.”
         Lance couldn't quite muster up a response, especially since he was expecting something a bit more majestic... like the beautiful healing faeries that resembled beautiful women in gorgeous dresses that visited cities and cured the sick.
         She continued talking, the fluttering of her wings increasing in speed, “I figured out what you'd love the most in the world. Ta-dah!” A massive scroll appeared at Lance's feet. On it was a list of magical artifacts that were scattered across the globe.
        “W-what am I looking at?” Lance asked as he picked up the scroll.
          The fairy then said, “It's another quest! You completed the quest to get the Summoning Stones of Summoning so quickly it must mean that you love questing more than anyone in the whole wide world! So I gave you a list of items from all around the world to quest for. Aren't I a genius? So, yeah, I got places to be, toodles!” The fairy vanished with a loud pop.

           When the fairy stopped talking only the sounds of the forest remained. The owl hoots and rustling of the leaves. A few animals moving about. Lance laid down to rest, holding the scroll so that he could start his quest the next day.

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Today's #flashfiction It's Good To Be Alive

“Do these come in a seven?”
Dorothy, The Wizard Of Oz* #quote

The way things are going in this world, I'm thinking instead of people saying “hit him with the book” they'll say, “hit him with the iPad”. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

It's Good To Be Alive

           “It's good to be alive!” shouted Victor as he skydived. He enjoyed the thrill of such an activity, he hiked, he rock climbed, he explored deep caves. He swam deep undersea. He enjoyed having such amazing options with his massive retirement fund he built through lucky investing. He continued his education, though he didn't bother buying books. Victor thought that's why the instructor gave him the cold shoulder. He noticed lots of people gave him the cold shoulder. Even though he waited in line said, excuse me, and waited for them to pass, they just didn't respond.
          Still, no matter how people treated him, he was happy to tell the world how good it was to be alive. Despite the fact that he lied to himself. He died quite some time ago and became a ghost, people gave him the cold shoulder because they couldn't see him. Victor's mind edited out contradictions to his current situation, pretending that he opened doors instead of walked through them. He pretended that the plane lifted him up when he skydived instead of him choosing to float with it. He pretended he had a parachute. He had no retirement fund, he made it all up to explain away everything in his ethereal mind.

         In the end though for Victor, it was better to be alive. It allowed him smile, even though his body was made of ectoplasm.

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Today's #flashfiction A Cartoon Game Of Cat And Mouse

“When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.”
The Iron Chef* #quote

I wonder how much of history would have changed if Einstein combed his hair differently. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Cartoon Game Of Cat And Mouse

             The cartoon cat chased the mouse through the house. He tried to whack him and missed and the mouse whacked him instead. He managed to get in a hit after a bit more of chasing and whacking. He tried some traps to get the mouse, but they failed and they ended up in his cartoon body getting crushed, twisted and pulled before moving back into place. And also whacked.
           The violent shenanigans of the two continued day in, and day out as cat chased mouse. However in one moment, when the cat was making a trap for the mouse that required more thought than most his mind wandered. What if he had more to do than chase the mouse? His supposed owner hardly talked to him. He didn't remember eating or drinking all that often. Why was the dog only sometimes in the house? Why did he and the mouse suddenly wind up in different locations, like an opera house? Why did the house layout change? The world started to not make not all that much sense.

          Then the mouse obnoxiously taunted him, and the cartoon cat grew angry, swiftly going back to his work. He vowed to catch the mouse this time. And hopefully not get whacked.

Monday, February 8, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Story Of A Story

“It's what's on the inside that counts.”
Doctor Jekyll, The Strange Case Of Doctor Jekyll And Mr. Hyde* #quote

         My friend Jessica is coming over this weekend. And she'll be showing me this Japanese only game(at least so far, though since it's text heavy it does have a low chance of coming to America) called Detective Pikachu. It has an Pikachu(the adorable little mouse mascot from Pokemon) as a detective. Hilariously he has a deep, tough-guy voice. I heard it in the trailer for the game when I watched it online, so I haven't seen the thing in person yet, so I'm excited for Jessica coming over.
CJ could also be coming over too, so we'll all enjoy Pikachu's jump into grizzly detectivehood. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Story Of A Story

           An old warrior of ancient time past told his grandson the tale of a battle he fought against a neighboring tribe. A valiant battle against ruthless looters. And that grandson told that tale to his grandson. Eventually the rival tribe's name was changed, then lost completely as they became a monster instead of people.
          The story landed in the hands of an English poet over centuries of being passed on. He wrote it down, the battle of centuries ago now becoming about a man named Beowulf. This poem survived time as was replicated and passed on.
           People changed this story, changing it for themselves. Taking the structure, or even the character's names themselves. The story of the figure Beowulf fighting the monster Grendel even became movies, a technology beyond the thought of people in those days past.

           All from the tale of an old warrior told his grandson about defending his tribe.

Sunday, February 7, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Food Chain

“I'm not wild about it.”
Tarzan* #quote

I went to the zoo with my family today. Was amazingly fun and joyous and despite the physical activity, I didn't have a single seizure during the entire trip, so that made it go perfectly. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Food Chain

         A group of seahorses swam through the ocean, their fins making them reach a speed fitting a gallop. They were dashing for cover, to camouflage themselves from a large fish that entered the range of their group. Each seahorse knew that as prey there was a large chance of them being eaten. Of most of them being eaten. Perhaps they should just hope that other seahorses in the race are slower.

        Then a fish took a massive bite. But not out of any of the seahorses. A new predator arrived and ate the fish chasing the seahorses. A large eel that didn't pay attention to the seahorses. This time the food chain worked in their favor. In one of the little seahorses a tiny thought occurred in its little head, was there something that could eat the massive eel?

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Once Upon A Time Traveler

“Variety is the spice of life.”
Dolly the Sheep* #quote

         The giant in Jack And The Beanstalk says that he “smells the blood of an Englishman”. Does that mean he has a fine enough nose to distinguish between different people based on smell? Could he take a wiff and say, “I smell the blood of three Scots, two Frenchmen and a Texan!”.

Once Upon A Time Traveler

        Once upon a time there was a time traveler. He lived happily ever after. Then he traveled through time, meddling with things as time travelers often do. He caused a paradox erasing the time traveler from existence. So now, once upon a time there was no time traveler and he never lived happily ever after.

Friday, February 5, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Psychic Posting

“Keep it simple.”
Rube Goldberg* #quote

They say you learn from your mistakes. So if I mess up a lot, does that mean I'm well educated? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Psychic Posting

           In the world of psychic virtual reality social networking had evolved beyond simply posting messages on blogs or webpages or sending tweets on their phones. People's minds could directly manipulate and enter virtual space with simple helmets in this new world. So now they made little virtual worlds for their friends to visit where they posted objects that reflected their very minds.
            For non-psychics to completely understand these spaces would be difficult to impossible without direct experience. Posting of the mind is direct and pure. Something simple enough for a non-psychic to understand would be a posting of pain. It's a strong, and when perceived is a solid thing that becomes piecing, dominate and all encompassing in the tangible space it touches. The sensation of hurt becoming an object itself and processed by the mind that way.

            This is the simplest thing for a non-psychic. This specific example is one of an intense pain. One of both emotional and physical. The moment in an accident when you're leg is pinned and being crushed. Your bleeding out and hopelessly calling out. You're mind is posting to some virtual space, trying to reach someone, but even with the speed of the post no one can reach you. The cries of pain outside the virtual space will bring no one in time, so the emotional pain from knowing your inevitable death it near also fills the space. This is an example from the the life of one Mr. Sam Edwaen. Edwaen posted while driving, distracting him from the dangers on the road.

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Two Mr. Greens

“Let me hold that for you.”
Atlas* #quote

Took my game(in its current primordial form) to my gaming club today. The input in this early stage was certainly helpful. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Two Mr. Greens

              “Now Mr. Green I know you've dealt with this hallucination of another you for quite awhile. Which is why I'm glad you've agreed to medical treatment.” The doctor spoke standing while one real                 Mr. Green and one hallucination sat in the chairs in his office. I knew this was the time that medication needed to be taken. This had to end. There should only be one Mr. Green.
              “I'm ready doctor,” I told him while the other Mr. Green in the room said the same thing.
              “Mr. Green your mental condition, although a bad one, is actually easily curable. You have a chemical imbalance in your brain. Take the pill and it'll be fixed. You're lucky it's this simple. I'd like you to start taking them now. And here's your prescription for more.” He set a pill on the desk in his office along with a bottle of pills and a perscription.

              Not a moment was wasted. The pill was swallowed so in a few moments its chemicals cured the mental condition and I vanished.  

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Itsy-Bitsy Employee

“1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. 2. A robot must obey the orders given to it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. 3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.”
HAL 9000* #quote

If you're ever feeling lonely just remember that your imagination makes great conversation. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Itsy-Bitsy Employee

The itsy-bitsy employee climbed up the corporate ladder.
Down came the lay-offs and washed the employee out.
Out came the investors and dried up the company debt,

 And the itsy-bitsy employee climped up the corporate ladder again.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Today's #flashfiction A Neutral Party

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results.”
Wile E. Coyote* #quote

If you ever get lost in thought, remember that you should have brought a map. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Neutral Party

         The mountain elves didn't follow the disciplines of their woodland cousins. Their magical protection to fire allowed them to become smiths of the highest caliber, and they worked straight out of volcanoes, selling their wares. The Smoke clan sold weapons to whoever would pay.
          One day, like any other they worked on another batch of swords. The magma heated their furnaces, but the thing that made that day different from any other was that soldiers broke down the door to their smithy. Humans wearing armor enchanted to cool themselves.
         “Surrender everything you have,” the soldier with the blue tassel on his helmet that designated him as captain. Such was the convention for the West Kingdom's army.
          An old mountain elf, his orange skin and white hair covered in patches of soot approached the soldiers. He was three-fourths the size of the shortest soldier, however his old body managed to show the muscles he'd built over the years.
         “I am Harin, eldest elf in the Smoke clan and owner of this smithy. I don't remember getting any orders from the West Kingdom.”
         “We are seizing your weapons,” the captain said.
          Harin thought for a moment. Mountain elves didn't worry about attack since they didn't work for any kingdom in particular. Kingdoms bought their wares, weapons or not. The elves were considered neutral. To attack the mountain elves would mean the inability to purchase from them again. The West Kingdom must be desperate. They must be unable to purchase any more weapons or need to cut of the weapons the Smoke's smithy provides or if they're really losing whatever war they're fighting, both.
          “Okay,” Harin replied. The rest of the Smoke clan was shocked. They knew Harin as a bold, tough elf. They expected him to fight to the death with the captain. But here he was surrendering “Take everything we have.”
           Harin looked at what carts they had to carry the items and ordered weapons onto them. But it wasn't just the good weapons he loaded onto the cart. He had the elves load in knives, failed weapons, scrap, and everything he could without the soldiers noticing. Also during the process he took the soldier's water and food.

           In a few days time the elves found the soldiers again, their horses tired, themselves nearly dying of thirst, and Harin bargained for all his wares back for some water, food, and an agreement to tell their superiors that they couldn't find the elf's smithy so that no soldier's from the West Kingdom would bother them again.

Monday, February 1, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Springtime Charisma

“If the shoe fits, wear it.”
The Sasquatch* #quote

Today I started coding a prototype level of my game to show the club at ASU to get their opinions. My game itself is nowhere near completion, but showing them this early version where I have the basic mechanics working and such will help since getting input early in the process can help iron out big picture problems. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Springtime Charisma

           Charisma, the force that leaders, persuaders, and societal connectors possess. It's a personality trait and a superpower to sway those with just your own natural aura. Charlie held this magnificent power, more so than many people through history. However, some curse on his soul, or mind caused it only to happen during springtime. Maybe it was magic, maybe it was the weather. Maybe it was the alignment of the stars during the year. Whatever the cause, Charlie was the most likable person in the world during spring and distastefully boring during the rest of the year.
         Charlie lived a life far different from other people, if he got promoted because of his charisma he'd get fired as soon as his appeal wore off. So eventually he had to settle for a low income job. No matter how he tried he couldn't get anywhere.
         Until one wonderful little day when a politician walked into the store he worked in. It was spring and Charlie struck up a conversation. The politician noticed how likable this man was, but used to people who used their charisma to get things done wasn't quite affected. However he figured that he could use Charlie.
        He brought Charlie aside and offered him a job to speak with people and convince them for deals. Charlie explained that he was only able to do this during springtime.

The politician simply said, “Then you will only bargain in Spring.”