Today's #flashfiction The Two Numbers

 “Live long and prosper.”

Jigsaw, Saw* #quote

I wonder what it'd be like to sense electricity like a shark. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Two Numbers

          Number 20 talked his friend, Number 130. They spoke to each other from their cages, despite the social norm of lab rats talking with their own family in their own cages. But because of some circumstance in their youth neither of them could remember when they babies they began squeaking to each other from across the bars.

          Both families of rats had the same fur color and general size. Number 20 and Number 130 could be mistaken for twin brothers. Lab rats tended to look similar due to scientist breeding them to be genetically similar as a baseline. But Number 20 could tell that there was something different about his friend that was fundamentally different from him. He couldn't figure it out, but there was something.

         While they talked about the mazes they ran, or the puzzles they tried to figure out, or the food they had to eat, or the women they had to woo to make the next generation, they had a wonderful time. But Number 20 couldn't figure out what was so different about his friend. Even to the day that his friend dropped dead.

         The simple fact of the matter was that every single day Number 130 was being subjected to a new type of cancer treatment. Number 20 was the control group. The treatment was a failure. But the results did provide some data that may help some future scientists.

         Whether the tests result in success or failure, the amount of cures and other scientific advancements the rats have helped humans achieve certainly makes them worthy of a little pat on the shoulder.

Today's #flashfiction The Man Who Does Everything Over

“15 minutes can save you 15 percent or more on your car insurance.”

Andy Warhol* #quote

Went to the book store and got myself some books, a luscious literature extravaganza. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Man Who Does Everything Over

         Wallace would have a special kind of recurring dream. He would never have a duplicate dream, like always dreaming he was riding an elephant that rode a singing unicycle. No, his recurring dreams were actually dreams that were recurring events of the day.

          Every night he would dream the day over again, remembering the day he lived. A sort of replaying of it all. He would know the big goof up he was going to make and then not make it in the dream. Or say the right thing and have things go perfectly.

          But this land of dreams did not make Wallace happier. It did not make Wallace live guilt free and without regret. It filled him with more guilt and regret. Because the choices he made in the first real day stayed and the ones in the dream didn't. All his fixes didn't work. He always knew what he did wrong and only managed to live what was right.

         Wallace's story isn't a sad one though. Another chance at every moment without it being recorded as truth made him much, much wiser. To know all that could go wrong then get a chance to go right every day? That made him wise. The guilt and regret from the dreams made him a much smarter and happier man.

Today's #flashfiction The Non-Government Conspiracy

“For it is in giving that we receive.”

Hernán Cortés* #quote

If the world was flat then where would Santa be? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Non-Government Conspiracy

           Hey, the name's Joseph and I'm ticked. I got booted out of the secret society I was a part of. Jerks. So what if I kept forgetting to pay my part of bill? Okay, I didn't technically forget, but we're the secret society that controls the world, shouldn't you just let take someone's identity or something to pay you back instead of holding a grudge? And there were other things they complained about like my music but whatever. I'm going to spill their secrets because I can hold a grudge just as easily as them.

            The secret to our society, the conspiracy that I am, er, was part of manipulates everything in a way that people didn't consider. We weren't in league with the government, making private deals or connections. We tricked the government as well. The media. Everyone. All with the most powerful weapon.

Records.

              In the dead of night or whenever else it needed to be done we would sneak in and edit records, swapping in records of our, physical or digital. Our society is the best in the world. Untraceable in our changes. Once past records are changed out for what we do, only memory remains. We even act out new versions of events using advanced CGI and other tricks to change the past. Look-a-likes, impressionists. History recent and distant is changed by the secret society.

              I'm going to miss changing history. George Washington was my favorite creation. Now that I've spilled the beans I suppose they'll get rid of this. Or they'll assume you won't believe me. Either way I've got a piece of advice for you. Treasure your memories. They're the only records you own.  

Today's #flashfiction The Simple Paranormal Encounter

 “It's not you it's me.”

Mr. Hyde #quote

I wonder if the other letters get jealous of P, G, R, N and C because they get to rate movies while they don't. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Simple Paranormal Encounter

          Jacob the cheery, grade school old boy walked along merrily during a warm spring day. The flowers bloomed those nice colors seen in story books and enough clouds dotted the skies to make it pretty but not show sign of coming rain.

          While Jacob traveled along the sidewalk a ghost materialized in front of him. The ghost floated only an inch above the ground and had a body twice his size. It formed as a huge mass of gray and black. Three openings on its front served as a pair of eyes and a mouth with a hanging jaw and ethereal fangs.

         “Hello Mr. Sidewalk Ghost,” Jacob said to the ghost.

          “Hello little boy. It's always nice to get a little company while you're stuck haunting.” The ghost smiled. “Not many people stop and walk around this part of town. Most people just drive by.”

          “I'm happy I could say hi to you.” The boy smiled at the ghost. The boy's smile then turned to a frown. “Mr. Sidewalk Ghost could you help me? I'm lost. I have to go to the library to study but I got lost.”

          The ghost thought for a moment. He really wanted to have company but he didn't want to keep the boy from where he needed to go. “I know where that is. Turn back around and go eight blocks go left, then the library is just past the burger joint.”

          “Thank you Mr. Sidewalk Ghost.” The boy left to go study at the library.

          “Goodbye little boy.” The ghost enjoyed his simple encounter with the boy and hoped someone else would come to his little section of the sidewalk soon.     

Today's #flashfiction The Walls Can Talk

“Save the trees!”

Paul Bunyan*

What happens when artifical intelligences who live in virtual reality start making technology to experience our reality. Will they call it reality virtual? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Walls Can Talk

         If only walls could talk is an expression people just throw around. They should take it more seriously. Walls can talk. And they are talking smack about everyone, including you. Yup, they gossip the most out of any object in the house since no matter how much you move things around they see everything. Yeah, they're as sentient as your refrigerator.

        The walls chatter about everything. Whether made of brick or wood or anything else since the eavesdroppers have nothing better to do with their time they just talk while you're not listening. In every home. They kinda spread news about all humans in a massive gossip network of walls between buildings. (If they need help getting some juicy news they get help connecting to further buildings by talking to the floor who talks to plumbing).

        They always spread their gossip without fail. They saw what you did last night and it is the biggest talking point of all the walls around the block. Yup, they know. Stuff like that goes viral on the wall-gossip network so watch what you do next time because the walls are watching too.

Today's #flashfiction Harry And Barry

 “Let's take a break.”

Humpty Dumpty* #quote

Since there's death metal music shouldn't there be life metal music? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Harry And Barry

         TV star puppets Harry and Barry were talking after hours in the storage closet. They joked with big laughs nearly tearing their foam guts at the seams. Harry's body was covered in blue fur while Barry's was covered in green. They'd been educating kids for decades.

Harry, after making a joke about one of the producer's shirts then said, “Wait...where do shirts come from?”

        Barry then asked, “What a peculiar question.” Harry and Barry were very, very old puppets on a very, very old program. Through great care they'd survived generations of actors, but they'd never been outside the studio. “That's never been a lesson taught on the show.”

        Harry then asked, “We tell the kids to wonder things and ask questions, but we don't...what's the word for that?”

        Barry then said, “I don't think that word has been in any of our scripts either. Even for the bigger kids.”

        Harry then told Barry, “Y'know, we've been teaching people for years...but...uh...I'm starting to feel pretty dumb. Like, we show kids pictures of things...but I've never seen them.”

        His costar then replied with a worried tone, “Okay, this is starting to get scary. There's just the studio, and the cameras, and the kids. Studio, cameras, kids. We're the teachers. Got it?” Barry felt like telling Harry this made it true.

       “Yeah, you're right.” Harry agreed, feeling the same fears creeping on himself.

And so the puppets kept their world small and their minds at ease.

Today's #flashfiction The Bullied King

“I'm just singing in the rain.”

Noah* #quote

I wonder that when someone looks for shapes in the clouds and spots an octagon that there's some serious trouble about to go down. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Bullied King

        There are some kings that don't have it easy. My land is divided is four, with four kings, with our power all equal. Our courts are the same as well down to each having our own miserable joker. But then things are never stable since our positions are constantly moved. Moved all through our land. Why? Why is there such turmoil?

        Why for the games of man, for I am a card, my land is the deck and from magic tricks to compulsive gambling I'm forced to move against my will. I wonder what a mighty, unshuffled king feels like.

Today's #flashfiction Another Dictionary

  “Google it.”

Confucius* #quote

People talk about love in the air, but what about love in the ground? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Another Dictionary

         People have theorized about parallel universes where many things are the same, but there are differences as well. Big things, little things. All across these possibilities. In some of these universes even the definitions of words have changed. Here are some of those definitions from a dictionary from one of the many parallel universes.

Iceberg: A particularly snowy town.

Underwear: Damage on the underside of automobiles over a long period of time.

Boxers: Hobos that live in boxes.

United States: A country where everyone eats healthy and listens to their parents.

Copyright: Using a second right turn to change direction see U-Turn

Cow: Intelligent, resourceful, stealthy animal.

Video Game: Productive activity.

Science: Wordy magic.

Computer: Unbreakable object.

Author: Instantly successful person.

         Perhaps another few universes over things will really start looking different...

Today's #flashfiction Adding To The Portfolio

“Build a better mousetrap and the world will beat a path to your door.”

Walt Disney* #quote

A good piece of advice is to remember good pieces of advice.

Adding to the Portfolio

          My camera is set. It's the perfect camera. I love its deep black color. It shows a sort of deep, serious professionalism. The camera's lens is perfect. Not a single scratch. I care for my camera better than most people care for their children. My camera has to be in perfect condition. I can't afford to damage it. It's not like I'm some rich photographer that can just buy a new camera every time. Maintenance on my spaceship costs enough as is. And the cloaking devices are costly too.

         The hum of that very cloaking device ate away at my ears. Why did the power core have to be in the helmet? Even with the device I had to distance myself to make sure they didn't hear me. Though maybe today I would get the photo I wanted. A good, clear photo of one of the hardest things to catch in beautiful form.

          A jogger. Oh, yes those wonderful human joggers. Not elegant on their own, but the sheer difficulty of getting a good shot of one mid-trot. The bragging rights. I've been on this beach before and gotten plenty of shots of sunbathers. Though anyone can document that. That's kids stuff. But a good shot of a jogger in a good pose without blur shows a steady tentacle. The trick though is to not catch them alone, not that won't get attention. No my jogger is going to be in a flock. I'll photograph the climax of a marathon when a flock of joggers move in front of one of the human park's fountains.          The timing will be perfect. No other humans will be in the shot. I'm going to time it so that its at the most dynamic moment in the joggers trot. It will be a beautiful image in my portfolio.

And in the flock comes. Coming. Coming. So many joggers. Yes. I'm in the right position for the dynamic shot. They'll look just right. I'll take the photograph with a perfect hand. It'll look better than those done by professionals! This picture will be the first step in showing me as professional level!

        No. No. No! It's ruined! Why did a bicyclist enter the shot! They never come to this part of the park! Nugh. Great, just great. Wait. I can try again. I'll catch up. I'll get the perfect shot. I'll try again and again until I capture the essence of the joggers and I'll keep moving and on until I make my perfect portfolio of human pictures.   

Today's #flashfiction Use The Farce

 “Dressing well is a form of good manners.”

Superman* #quote

I wonder if sages or monks use their mastery of chi energy when dancing they can do zen twerking. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Use The Farce

         (I'm going to die master...)

         (No, young one. Not while I'm here. My soul is bound to help you fight the evil empire.)

         (You'll help me live?)

         (Yes. I will always be with you inside these thought bubbles giving you advice. You're internal monologues will never be mono while I'm around. Even while you're at home alone...mmm..yes.)

         (Master can we think about the possibility of me dying now?)

         (Of course. You must be wary. You are going to fight the strongest soldier that the evil, evil empire has to throw at you. If you defeat this man in combat the rest of them will surrender to you out of fear. I have faith in you though.)

         (But this is the man that killed you!)

         (I know. Dark Pun. He is a master of the farce. But you can beat him my student.)

         (With my mere Farcesaber?)

         (That is not all he uses. Beware his puns. His terrifying puns. The absurd sillyness and stupidy and of them all. They made my mind physically numb. I actually started losing memories because they were so stupid. And the way he danced in those pink polka-dot pants. The lameness energy transferred to my body and I dropped my own Farcesaber. At that moment he killed me with his own.)

         (You make it sound impossible!)

         (But my student in the battle I saw his weakness! You have to counter the lameness. There are two powers within the Farce. The lame and the wit. Destroy his lame with your wit. Clever observations will raise your own energy and sarcasm will damage his. Mockery of individuals or concepts. Raise the level of intelligence of conversation. If his pun raises a subject turn that subject to something intelligent with wit. The man feeds off stupidity both its chaos to fuel him and its lameness to damage you.)

        (Wit will guide me! I will use the Farce! Not just my Farcesaber! My sarcasm will bring him down! I see him!)

“I will take you down Dark Pun!”

         (No my student! Don't get so close! No, he's leading the conversation! Calm his jokes! He's getting off puns...and you're dead. That was quick. Well looks like I'm going to have to find another student.)

Today's #flashfiction The Hurricane Effect

“Marco! Polo! Marco! Polo!”

The Blair Witch Project* #quote

CJ's comin' over today so that'll be fun. Also my other friend tomorrow, so that'll be fun. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Hurricane Effect

         The hurricane roared and threw buildings apart people fled wherever they could, leaving everything behind to avoid being caught in its wake. The damage was catastrophic. News stations covered the disasters far and wide. Countries away even. The newcaster relayed the story while the footage played behind him from a country he'd never heard of before.

         Carl felt quite depressed. Doing the news made him decent money, but covering so many terrible things in the world rots the heart. The worst thing was that he knew he didn't feel an incredible amount of empathy for the people in the hurricane because he'd covered so many disasters over the years he'd grown numb to suffering. Disasters, murders, kidnappings. An old, famous, newscaster, people were familiar with him and he kept his good looks as he aged so they never replaced him. As he lived alone he kept becoming more apathetic to the world.

        The newscaster walked through the park on his usual route home. However the guilt he felt for feeling nothing about the hurricane made him walk with a depressed slump off center of the sidewalk. Carl bumped into a flower on a bush where a butterfly was sitting and it flapped its wings then flew off. It caught Carl's attention, cheering him up with its bright colors and distraction from the thoughts in his mind. He felt compelled to follow it, and it led him to a bench where he met a woman that would take away his apathy and fill his heart with feeling once again.

Today's #flashfiction Toon Humor

“What's up doc?”

Mr. Hyde* #quote

On Friday do you have to eat fries? Because if you do I'm a big rule breaker. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Toon Humor

        After having exploded after a day of shenanigans Ken the Kangaroo, cartoon star extraordinaire clocked in from work and headed home. Slapstick was exhausting, but paid well, especially if you weren't an extra(and therefore getting the majority of the beating). How the fleshed found this funny was beyond him.

        At least he could watch one of their shows for a laugh. He planted his colorful body on his colorful couch enjoying its softness against his smooth toon fur. Ken turned on a fleshed movie, where humans would be experience a tragic love.

       And he found it hilarious. To explain toon humor would be a difficult task. But the minds of creatures who were often exploded, whacked and put in worlds not quite possible with circumstances put against them, their minds didn't quite work the same as normal people.

       Ken found the fakeness funny. The “fleshed” trying to be unreal. He lived fake day in and out and could see it plain as day. The fake emotions looked funny to him. He'd interacted with real “fleshed” people and other toons when off the clock. And when things went off script, it was hilarious. Ken the Kangaroo would have sobbed along with someone who was really crying, but for a toon who's very existence was acting.

      Why those tears in that tragic movie were just hilariously fake.

Today's #flashfiction The Wizard's Dreams

“He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.”

General Custer* #quote

Went out to dinner with some relatives today. It was a delicious dinner with some funtastic family fun. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Wizard's Dreams

         When we dream we often dream of the strange. Where we fly or of impossible scenarios or things. Nightmares are filled with monsters and the fantasies in dreams can be creations beautiful and beyond our normal reality.

         But a wizard dreams differently. For he lives in a world like our dreams. Where flying is possible and monsters and strange things and creatures live. Where beauty beyond our normal reality. He dreams of a world like ours.

        Our world is a fantasy to him. He dreams of our serenity. Our lack of magic and chaos. No flight, no elaborate creations. Just our orderly reality where animals are animals and not mutated monsters, even our strangest ones. Where our oceans are plain and blue. Where are fields are covered in patches of simple flowers. Where our cities are systems of people simply living instead of being filled with dragons, goblins, curses, strange constructions beyond normal logic. His dreams are a wonderful calmness compared to his life in his world.

      And he loves his dreams.

Today's #flashfiction Reality

 “Shhhh, no talking during the movie...”

Charlie Chaplin* #quote

If I go to the end of the Reading Rainbow I find a pot of books? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Reality

      Ben wore big goggles on his head and wore large headphones on his ears. Even though he was still in his chair it felt quite immersive since his entire view was covered and the headphones filled his ears with sound.

       However Ben did not experience that virtual reality. An alien watched over him plugged in by his spinal cord. The alien was monitoring Ben and his life of playing his silly little game. It laughed with a strange sound only its tongue could make.

       But really that alien lived as a brain in a jar, Ben not being real, nor his job of studying him. The brain was ignorant of current state. A scientist, who was working in studying how to prolong lives, wondered what the brain in the jar he was tasked with taking care of was thinking.

      Though really that scientist was simply a man in a coma a nurse looking at him sleeping there so peacefully. The thing about her was...well actually, what about you?

Today's #flashfiction Get With The Program

 “Plan ahead.”

MacGyver* #quote

Do walruses shop at Walmart? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Get With The Program

      “What?” asked the owl to the forest. “What?” he repeated. He then repeated it again and again.

      “Dave!” another owl said.

      “What!?” Dave yelled back.

      “We say 'who' not 'what',” his friend clarified.

      “Oh, sorry.” Dave then asked “Who?” to the forest.

Today's #flashfiction To Dream The Other

 “There must be a logical explanation.”

Merlin* #quote

Some people might say they prefer daytime. Some people might say they prefer nighttime. But really, isn't the best time break time? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

To Dream The Other

         Demons did only bad and angels only good. That was the rule. One demon had constant recurring dreams of being an angel, and one angel had constant recurring dreams of being a demon. The demon became fascinated with good and began to only do good. The angel became fascinated with evil and began to only do evil. And eventually the demon transformed became an angel and the angel a demon.

         Many years passed....

         The demon now began constantly dreaming of being an angel.

         And the angel began constantly dreaming of being a demon.

Today's #flashfiction The Lesson

“If the shoe fits, wear it.”

The Sasquatch* #quote

If ideas are symbolized by lightbulbs does that mean we can make jokes about ideas like, “How many cats does it take to screw in an idea?” Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Lesson

         The children opened up their science books. The lesson began. The teacher explained how millions of years ago a big, big rock came from space and smashed into the planet. It caused mass extinction, killing billions of species and bringing in an ice age. The teacher was quite the story teller, making his telling of the meteor hitting the Earth an epic tale.

         One child said, “So that's what happened to all the humans.” 

Today's #flashfiction David And The Cave

“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

I went to the bookstore today and it was booklicious. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

David And The Cave

        David loved to explore caves. Ever since he was a little boy his father took him on trips into caves. And not just a little trot around the entrance. Helmets with lights, and all the safety equipment, sometimes even with large groups of his father's friends that enjoyed the hobby. And since David was born to the age of computers he was the one that taught his father how to use the Internet to post all the pictures he'd gathered over the ages of the deepest corners of caves.

       Eventually his father passed, but he kept up that little website of posting photos of caves for that little following they had(mostly other people who enjoyed the hobby). However to keep up the tradition David did get into a dangerous habit, he went into caves alone. Exploring caves gave him a massive curiosity, “what's around that next corner”? He always wondered since everything was darkness until it met the shine of his flashlight.

       And one time he went alone into a cave that people hadn't explored much, so he couldn't rely on any signs left behind by previous people. But he wanted to know. Especially since he wanted to know where the sound of wind came from. People in the little town around it called it the “Breathing Cave” because the sound of wind always came out of the cave.

      So David went in the cave. And went inward and inward. And oddly enough it stopped with him still hearing the sound of the wind. A large rock wall and there was no source of the wind. He felt annoyed. Even angry. There was supposed to be an answer to his curiosity. An opening at the end. Some kind of special funnel for the wind. Something to find.

      He decided to just leave the cave and see if he could find something more interesting. However when he exited the cave he saw a large city on the horizon where the town once was. When he walked closer and got a good look, he saw flying cars entering and exiting the city. The cave sent him to the future, and he wondered that's where the wind came from.

     David's curiosity was not satisfied. He decided to go straight back into the cave and find out what would happen if he came out again.

Today's #flashfiction The Child's Questions

“Help! I think I'm stuck!”

Harry Houdini* #quote

         I came up with a trick to never get caught off guard by jump-scares in horror movies. Jump-scares being the term I've heard for when something jumps out and screams or something. You know those moments in horror movies. The trick is to keep imagining something jumping out and screaming every single second. Then when it actually happens it's like “Oh, there you are.” Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Child's Questions

          Esteemed mathematician Charles Bright was doing a lecture to a large crowd at his university. A student of the university, because of scheduling reasons, had to bring along his son. In the crowd of two hundred people the child, named Ronnie by his father, was hardly noticed and was well behaved, and despite not understanding pretty most of what the professor was saying, listened anyway. The little boy listened and listened to all the complicated words. He didn't understand much, and the main point he took away from the lecture was that the Doctor Bright was very, very smart. So after the lecture he immediately walked away from his father and up to Doctor Bright. When the father heard that Ronnie wanted to ask the professor a math question he was curious what the little boy wanted to ask. He just started learning how to add and subtract, so what could he possibly want to know?

       “Doctor Bright?” Ronnie said since his father taught him that the school teachers at universities were doctors and not Misters or Misses. “What's the biggest number?”

       Charles gave the child an answer that was technically inaccurate, but could still work. “Infinity.”

Ronnie then said, “What's infinity minus one?”

       “Infinity.” Doctor Bright knew that infinity wasn't really a number itself, but all numbers but an answers an answer.

       “I thought you knew how to do math. Something minus one can't be it all over again! That's silly. Four minus one isn't four. It's three.”

        And now Doctor Bright had to give the full answer since his mathematical capabilities were put in question. And that took quite some time. And then the Ronnie asked more questions about that. And then he asked more questions about that. And then more questions. Eventually these lines of inquiry led to Doctor Bright coming up with a brilliant mathematical epiphany.

       The father had to leave, but Doctor Bright asked that anytime Ronnie needed a babysitter that the father call him immediately. He would need material for mathematical papers and the child worked as a suitable form of inspiration.  

Today's #flashfiction The Superheroism Scam

 “Make sure you have your ducks in a row.”

Walt Disney* #quote

You know, it's kinda odd you never learn about cellphones in biology class. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Superheroism Scam

           I was once one of the most beloved of superheroes. Captain Undefeatable. I used my superpowers to protect my city Industryopoliville from the robotic minions Doctor Techno-Fright. But when a superheroine named Arcticgal came into town people soon saw a superheroism scam. The superheroism scam as they would call it. She wouldn't let me fight Doctor Techno-Fright alone. She feared for my safety. No matter how much I told her. I tried to stop her from helping me. Doctor Techno-Fright's robots tried to stop her from helping me.

        But it was discovered by her that I am Doctor Techno-Fright. The robots would attack the city, cause damage, put people in danger all so that I may have my glory and fame as a hero. The scam was revealed by her. And now I'm in prison. I'm not sure what kind of fame I have here now.  

Today's #flashfiction Spareless

“I love you, you love me, we're a happy family!”

Atilla the Hun*

There are hard cover books. There are soft cover books. What about bumpy cover books? Where are those? Anyway onto the the flash fiction!

Spareless

         A young boy named James once broke his glasses. And by coincidence right soon after he broke his spares. His mother lectured along with his father on being clumsy. They both had their own styles of lecturing. The mother had a you could have done differently style while the father had a you should have done differently style. The mother's tone was harsher than the father's.

        James's vision was some of the worst on the scale from awful to horrible. He could walk across the room at least. Objects were objects and he could pick them up. But everything had an intense blur. At this time the things in his imagination had become more real than reality. In his imagination there was no blurriness.

       So that's what he did. It took them quite awhile to repair his glasses. But in the meantime as he walked through life he replaced everything with an imagined copy. He knew what his dog looked like. So when the panting blur approached him he imagined what it really looked like in its place. Same place with his parents, the car, the house, dinner, his friends and everything. His used his imagination to define everything back to reality as his glasses showed him.  

Today's #flashfiction The Hallucination

 “Buffering...”

Tron* #quote

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's su-nevermind it's a cloud. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Hallucination

        Two individuals walked side by side, one a hallucination and the other real as could be. Thunderous steps along with soft steps marched along the road. One was an ogre and the other a little girl. The ogre's skin was a deep green and little girl's a light chocolate. Both had wonderful brown eyes.

        A purple haze filled the air. It would vanish soon. But so would the hallucination. That always happened when the shots the doctor gave every Sunday kicked in. Every since the medication began being administered the hallucination was seen only a few hours the day before when the previous weeks medication ran out instead of all the time.

        The haze vanished. The medicine finished working its way through the bloodstream and into the brain of the individual belonging to reality. So then the little girl disappeared. Ogre doctors needed to medicate carefully to free anyone of hallucinations of such nightmarish creatures as humans.

Today's #flashfiction Morry And The Cheese

 “I'm smarter than the average bear.”

Yogi Berra* #quote

I wonder if anyone has snowed on a parade. It's probably worse than raining on someone's parade. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Morry And The Cheese

         Morry the Mouse stared at the mousetrap in front of him. The cheese beckoning to him. Unlike other mice he knew what the trap entailed because he saw some other poor mouse soul get caught in another trap. He knew he should avoid it. But oh! That cheese. He crept towards the trap. Every so slowly, just to sniff. He sat there, half an inch away from the trap, sniffing the cheese. He knew he couldn't eat it. So he just looked. And looked. Time melted away while he stared.

        Then, while he was still entranced by the cheese, the cat got him.

Today's #flashfiction Deep In Hypnosis

 “Thou shalt not steal.”

The Hamburglar* #quote

Here's a fun party game, especially for writers. You need a one minute timer and a piece of paper and pencil for each person. Each person starts writing a story, then when the timer is up they pass their piece of paper to the left. Another one minute round starts with each person starting off where the last person left off, continuing until everyone has written in everyone's stories. (You can make the rounds longer than a minute if you like). Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Deep In Hypnosis

        Doctor John Hayfields spoke to his patient in a calm tone. Hypnosis was part science, part social art as you relate to the patient. He lulled them with his words. Repeating his words. His script towards the end was very stereotypical of a hypnotist.

        “Now, when I snap my fingers you'll wake from your trance.”

The sound of a snap filled the room. At this moment John woke up from his trance and was brought back to reality. He was no longer the hypnotist as he was in his therapeutic trance, and his own doctor sat next to him.

         “See you next Tuesday.” Hayfield's hypnotherapist told him.

Today's #flashfiction The Superhero's Phase

“Come with me if you want to live.”

Dr. Frankenstein* #quote

I wonder if zombies are afraid of getting infected with the human virus. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Superhero's Phase

       I feel terrible. My name is The Fantastic Glitchman manipulator of cyberspace and my sidekick ErRoz has just died. I know we're all superheroes here so he'll come back to life or I'll get a much better replacement sidekick someday. But for now I'm just depressed. So I'm going through a phase.

       The worst part is...I just don't know how to redesign my costume to reflect this! My original costume was a dynamic blue with yellow FG letters. Pretty campy and happy if you ask me. I even had a nice cape to go with it. Oh and those silly boots. Those silly, pointed boots. But because of my sadness I just can't go around in this costume. I need to change my costume to reflect this. The other heroes know of my sidekick's death so I have to make sure I do what they think I should too.

        But I just don't know how to change it. Purple? Green? New boots? Leather? Longer cape? Shorter cape? No Cape? Bigger letters? Smaller letters? No letters? Make a logo? Add a skull? What to do..what to do...aaaagghhhhhh! This is impossible! How do I make a costume that reflects what I'm going through? How to make a costume that can properly reflect this vital phase in my life!?

         Oh the horrible, horrible things we have to go through as superheroes!    

Today's #flashfiction Giving Life

 “It's dry clean only.”

Tony Stark* #quote

Unfortunately my friend got sick so she did not come over today. That was quite unfortunate. I hope that something isn't going around. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Giving Life

         Hi! I'm the a being created from the words you're reading. Wow it's good to be alive. That's what happens when you read. You give life to what you're reading. It becomes real in your mind you know. Imagine me as a tall, brown haired guy and that's what I am. Think of a setting. A beautiful river at sunset. Think of me fishing. Your giving me a greater existence in your mind. Thanks! Fictional things like me are only born because of you, and given more form from you.

         The worst part is when you stop reading. Stop thinking about whatever story you're reading. That's when things like me die. Every story ends, and when your mind stops giving them existence then they vanish back into mere ink. Goodbye. Don't forget me too quickly.

Today's #flashfiction The Little Puppy

 “Look on the bright side of things.”

Darth Vader* #quote

My friend Jessica is coming over tomorrow so that'll be buckets inside barrels of fun. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Little Puppy

        The puppy was a tiny, itsy-bitsy thing. The runt of the litter in a bundle of chihuahuas. Her fur's colors showed to be quite the concoction of colors. Like an abstract artist got to paint it. Blotches of black, brown and gray chaotically weaved through the body on a majority of white, like a canvas.

         Unknown to her little puppy brain, today was an important day. Today she was being adopted. She would be moving from her first family pet store, to her new family. She would be learning the concept of love with whoever would be picking her up. Or the concept of abuse.

         But the hands that picked her up out of her cage for adoption, a young, yet responsible girl and her family, were gentle hands. Would the next puppy be picked up by a different pair of hands? Angry, violent hands? Only time will tell.

         However Belle, as they named her, would live a long happy life.

Today's #flashfiction The Fame Of Nostradamus

“Now this is a story all about how
My life got flipped, turned upside down...”

Gulliver's Travels* #quote

Maybe they tried some other nicknames before “snake eyes” for rolling two ones on dice. Like “uh-oh, you rolled puppy eyes!” Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Fame Of Nostradamus

        Michel de Nostredame(he later latinised his name to Nostradamus later to sound cool, it was trendy at the time) was writing when his friend Alphonse walked in the room. Alphonse glanced at the paper and couldn't quite get a grasp on exactly any of it meant and asked Michel.

       “What are you writing Michel?”

       “My predictions,” he replied to his friend.

       “More of your astrology? Why are these so vague?”

        Michel smiled, “Because I want to be famous someday. I figure that if I make my predictions vague enough eventually something like them will become true eventually. Then I'll be most famous astrologer. Not any of those jerks that make fun of me.”

        Alphonse then said, “But if they're that vague it could take hundreds of years for any of them to become true. You'll be long gone before you become famous!”

       Michel then shrugged and told his friend, “I'll take what I can get.”

Today's #flashfiction A Most Terrifying Book

“Don't toy with me.”

Buzz Lightyear* #quote

Went over to grandmother's house to play Scrabble with her. It was quite fun. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Most Terrifying Book

           A genius by the name of Ken held three PhD’s and pretty much knew everything. He held facts in his mind easily and people envied him for his knowledge. If you wanted to know something ask Ken, he was beat only by the Internet and a full library.

Though Ken wanted to beat out those libraries. With his incredible memory he went through and read book after book. On one day he went into one section he never went into, mostly because it really didn't make sense as reference or entertainment, the kids section.

         He picked up a book named “Elle Elephant and her Happy Friends” he opened it and realized why he gravitated towards it. He tried to read this when he was a kid. But before he learned to read. It brought his mind back to a time before he “knew everything”. Before he could even sound out the words on the page. It was a strange sensation. Uncomfortable. Scary. Those old days when he didn't have mastery over words. When he struggled to learn things. As an adult even foreign languages are easy to him.

        Ken didn't experience sweet nostalgia when he saw the book. Only a sinking feeling. A memory of time that felt like it would be a waking nightmare if it happened to him now. He put the book back and tried to forget about it. He never could because of his memory. And so a simple little children's book haunts him with the times before he was great. Though now the haunting feeling makes him appreciate his educated mind more.

Today's #flashfiction The Indecisive Painter

 “Don't be a big mouth.”

Pac-Man #quote

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are great together, they are great partners. You also jam radars. Since peanut butter is such a partner of jam, does than mean that it can also stop radar. Can you peanut butter radar? I oughta try it out sometime.

The Indecisive Painter

         Clyde needed to make a decision. Red or blue. What stroke of color should he use to start his painting. From there the color would give him inspiration for a subject matter by being the baseline of how he creates the work. After all the first stroke creates the baseline for shading and how other colors are built on top of it. He'd been at it for over an hour. He occasionally scratched his beard, as if some sort of color besides gray would come out of it. Red or blue. Red or blue. Red or blue.

          “Oh for the love of God. Again?” His wife said while she walked into the room and saw the blank canvas. She then grabbed one of the spare brushes in the studio and dabbed it in purple and stroked it on the canvas.

            Clyde smiled. Purple was the perfect color to start. Not red or blue. His wife didn't know how to paint. But she certainly knew how to inspire him.

Today's #flashfiction Not Worth The Trouble

 “Brevity is the soul of wit.”

Chewbacca* #quote

I went out to lunch with my family today and ate alligator. It was interesting. They way they made it was a sort of chicken nugget, but spicy. However it didn't taste exactly, it had a bit of fishiness to it. Like halfway between chicken and fish. Very tasty. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Not Worth The Trouble

          Many, many years ago a rich boy dropped a silver dollar and it rolled into a sewer grate. His father said, “It's not worth the trouble.” It annoyed the boy since every day saw grate from near his large house, and the small shimmer of the coin. But he listened to his father. “It wasn't worth the trouble.” So over the years no matter how many times he saw it he ignored it, even as he became an old man living in that house. His descendants kept growing up in that house, even when the old money disappeared and only sign of the money of past generations was the large home.

        One day the great-great-great grandson saw the coin shimmering in the grate, the stubborn thing had fallen into a crack in the concrete that day which allowed it to avoid being washed down into the sewers by rain. With great effort and multiple tries with his small arms he managed to get the silver dollar.

        And with how old it was the coin was now certainly worth the trouble.