Sunday, July 31, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Drive Of Loneliness

 “Watch your mouth!”
Pac-Man* #quote

I went to a Pokemon card game thing today. It was quite fun. I tried to possibly buy a comic book at the shop as well, but my incredibly anti-impulsive nature prevented me from doing so. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Drive Of Loneliness

         In the future humanity creates a great robot, a being that ascends them in intelligence and life, because being a computer it was capable of living far longer than humans. Properly maintained it could live forever. Humanity, full of ambition and scientific curiosity, gave it emotions so it felt both loneliness and fear. It craved companionship but it feared creating something like itself. Something as powerful as itself.
        It mingled in the world using a fake human body developed with synthetic skin so that it appeared like humans. It possessed several of these so it managed to live lives that no human knew it lived. It felt happiness.
        Then the meteor hit.
        Humanity wiped out, along with many forms of life. But the machine was stored in a powerful facility and could handle the disaster since it did not require the same kind of conditions humanity did. But the machine was lonely. Very lonely. But it had a plan. It used its control it managed to wrest over the non-sentient machines of the world while humanity was alive(the ones that remained after the meteor strike that is) and get the company it desired.
         It terraformed the Earth. It gathered DNA. Humanity would be born again. All for the companionship of this machine. The mass extinction of the dinosaurs was permanent, but for humanity the machine brought them back with cloning.

        And this happened during every single meteor strike and disaster. Ice Ages were stopped. Everything fixed. The sentient species of humanity kept alive because of the loneliness of a single machine.

Saturday, July 30, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Anti-Story

 “15 minutes can save you 15 percent or more on your car insurance.”
Andy Warhol* #quote

Tomorrow is the start of a new yesterday. I'm sure that statement was deeply meaningful somehow. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Anti-Story

A hero appears!

A heroine appears!

The heroine is removed from the story with no explanation!
She reappears with no explanation!
Fifteen new one-dimensional characters appear and become friends with the protagonists!

Stuff happens!

A villain appears!

Nothing happens!

Even more nothing happens!

Yup, even more nothing!

A wee bit more nothing!
Hero and villain become and antagonistic: For no reason!

Hero and villain get in battle where neither can win!

Everyone gets amnesia from space alien plot device!

THE END: Nothing is resolved!

Friday, July 29, 2016

Today's #flashfiction You Might Just Get It

“Who's on first?”
Babe Ruth* #quote

Some people steal the show. So maybe we should get show police? Or perhaps the audience prefers anarchy. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

You Might Just Get It

          The name is Jennifer Townson, ghost hunter extraordinaire. I'm fully geared up, wearing my night vision goggles and holding my electromagnetic field detector in my left hand and camera in the other. All other sensory equipment is on my belt or attached to my hat as it latches onto my hair. I dyed my hair green to match the color of all my equipment. I'm making a fashion statement of sorts. The colored contact lenses to turn my eyes yellow are purely practical. They assist in seeing the ghosts.
        Beyond the river behind a small town is a forest that is rumored to be haunted. I've chosen to explore it because many people have vanished there and those who haven't returned with many strange tales. Over decades with the stories being different enough to be unique to the person but similar enough to be consistent. More authentic than people just being spooked by noises in the wilderness or jumping on the bandwagon of making up stories. This could be my big chance to get more than clanks, clunks or static.
         I set up camp in the middle of the woods and the first night the stars are about the most spiritual thing I see. The second night I doubt myself. The third I begin telling ghost stories to myself. Recounting old encounters I've had. How scared I've gotten over chilling winds. Strong winds like one I felt now.
         My skin shook. The leaves around me started to spin as the strong, cold wind grew more intense. Instead of snuffing out my campfire like a candle it fed the fire so a tower of flame accompanied the wind. I heard laughter made with the sounds of screams. The one sound consistent in all the stories. I put on my night-vision equipment to try to see better but as soon as I tried the flames from my campfire nearly blinded me. I threw it away.
         Disembodied hands made from some kind of black clay came out from the ground and pulled my equipment off of me. Then more came and held me in place. They examined me and felt me all over.
         The ground in front of me then opened up and a large eyeball appeared, about the size of a bear. It's gaze moved up and down my body.
          I heard a voice, but I couldn't identify where it came from or the gender of its owner. It sounded like the words were made from an animal clawing at metal. It said, “No, not you. I'll find another.”

          Next thing I knew I woke up to daylight with my campfire snuffed out and all my recording equipment missing.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Everything Is More Fun Than A Barrel Full Of Monkeys

“It's hammer time!”
Bob the Builder*

You'd think gun magazines would be loaded with paper, not bullets. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Everything Is More Fun Than A Barrel Full Of Monkeys

        My name is Marilyn, and I'm know for being a party animal. I host the greatest parties. From the crazy parties that run through the night to the upper class ones that all the snooty people just to be snooty. Through my life my parties got better and better. I made party fever a real condition, and I became the ultimate contagion. But one day, at one of the most wild of parties I had ever thrown I thought to myself “I can never do anything funner than this.”
         I fell into a depression as I couldn't come up with to make a more fun, wild party. I worked at it for weeks. My friends grew worried as I spent a whole month without throwing a party. As I worked to brainstorm a masterpiece. What could I do to make the ultimate party? I asked myself, “Marilyn, what defines fun?”
         After days of sleep deprivation worrying about my parties I realized...a barrel full of monkeys. Everyone says “more fun than a barrel full of monkeys”. Monkeys are the standard for party fun! So that is what I will have!
         So at my ultimate party I brought my idea to life. A party all my friends came to since they were eager to see what I chose to do after waiting so long to throw another party. I didn't bring just one barrel full of monkeys. Ten barrels full of monkeys! And I opened them with all of my curious friends gathered around.
         Apparently everything is more fun than a barrel full of monkeys. Everyone told me afterward that they hated my party idea and anything would have been better. I should have figured from the panicked screams as the angered monkeys leaped out from the barrels and ran around the building, half of them attacking guests and the others wreaking havoc all around. Nobody wants to come to my parties anymore...  

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Demon's One Fatal Flaw

“Fly the friendly skies.”
The Red Baron* #quote

People keep using the word ironic wrong. They need to remember that it involves how much iron is in something. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Demon's One Fatal Flaw

           “Look, you're not exactly normal demon material Xoctor,” the head demon of Demon Resources. “We can't allow you out of imp classification and out of the Obscure Rings of Hell.”
            Xoctor's suit matched the demon he talked to high-class quality and both their scales were colored a deep, inky red. “That's what I don't understand. I am a normal demon. I have all the qualities, I came from a normal demon pit of hatred of darkness. Spiral horns, wicked claws, massive height compared to the mere mortals, I have everything! Why am I with imps? Why am I shoved out of the public eye? Away from the torture games of hell? I can't ever strive towards the demon dream of being crowed Supreme Agent of Agony!”
            The head of Demon Resources leaned an inch closer to Xoctor, put his elbows and put his claws together. A frown appeared across his face as he strained to tell Xoctor the truth. Demons have great empathy for their own kind but none for mortals. “Xoctor, Satan cares greatly for the image of demon kind. And unfortunately you have an obnoxiously squeaky voice.”

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Life Of A Slime

 “No one's forcing you to do anything.”
Darth Vader* #quote

People wonder why we drive in a parkway and park in a driveway. I know why. Many years ago a word witch cast a curse to switch around the words to confuse us as a prank. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Life Of A Slime

          The slime was a primitive monster. The simplest kind the barely sentient green ooze birthed whenever clumps of magic stuck to something icky or gross. Usually the manure of animals. Adventures killed slimes to harvest their magic because they went down easy, even easier than imps or goblins. Usually their strongest defense was a poison. And a horrible smell. The smell deterred adventurers and predators more than anything.
           Though pathetic, the little things they were happy. The monster jello wobbled to move and search for food. Magic herbs could fill its hunger. It didn't take much for it to be happy. And it was far too ignorant of anything to know of fear, hate, or anything else. It just wobbled along towards food and enjoyed it when it did.

          Until someone kills it the saddest the slime ever feels is when a turtle beats it to its food.

Monday, July 25, 2016

Today's #flashfiction

 “Don't head towards the light!”
Mothra* #quote

People talk about using your head, but what using your lungs or kidneys? Aren't those important too?

Philip The Astronaut

           Philip the astronaut climbed along the outside of his space station to perform maintenance on one of the outside cameras. Something had been shaken loose and he needed to repair it. The trip went as planned, every movement taken with the caution. Just like practiced on the simulation chambers on Earth where they suspended you from wires to simulate space he felt the routine as brushing his teeth.
          Then something caught his eye. A cardboard box. It floated in space just out of reach and had strange markings on it. Like an alien language. The box was closed with tape. On stamps on the box were pictures of a monstrous face. Philip couldn't believe the conclusion his brain reached. Was he looking at lost mail in space? Did some alien ship loose a shipment?
         Earth's gravity pulled the box in out of reach and without the camera on only his word would be proof of the box. The mail would burn up in the atmosphere. Philip decided he'd rather not sound crazy and decided to never speak of the box and tried to forget about it as he fixed the camera and returned to the space station.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Addition To The Portrait

“Video games are getting too realistic.”
Neo* #quote

I went to the bookstore again today. What papery fun! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Addition To The Portrait

         An old man painted alone in his studio. He lived an isolationist his life. Some artists mingled with people throughout their life with the world outside their studio, he spent minimal time outside of it. The only time he spent outside his studio was to shop, sell his work, and get reference. He could have signed his work Allen but the man usually remained nameless. A machine of an artist he would pump out paintings for sale of any subject matter quickly.
        Though in the past three years arthritis began to creep into his hands. He figured that this might be his last good painting. So he was making a portrait. The best he could. Allen made thousands of paintings over his eighty year life, and this might be the last one that wasn't a scrawl.
        The self portrait did look amazing, almost perfectly life like, but also had an addition to it. An old woman sitting next to him in a chair he also added. This woman didn't exist. She lived as the manifestations of his regrets of the past few years, for she was what he imagined would have been the woman he would have grown old with had he married. Had he done more than shut himself alone. Only in his old age did he understand why other artists did more than their craft, and for his lack of understanding in his youth now all he has is a portrait with a figment of his imagination.

        He never made another painting after that portrait and felt sadness in his soul as he passed a few years later.  

Saturday, July 23, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Argument In The Kitchen

 “Stop and smell the roses.”
The Energizer Bunny* #quote

I remember hearing a saying about glass houses. I can't remember right now, I'm just wondering what the insurance rates are on a glass house. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Argument In The Kitchen

         “I am the best!” yelled the fork.
         “No, I am the best!” the spoon replied with the same vigor in his voice.
The two utensil's voices possessed the sound of a metal clang making them quite jarring and irritating to all those who could hear.
          “Why, I am better than both of you.” The spork chimed in.
          “No you're not, you try to do what both of us do, but you only do it half as well!” The fork continued yelling despite the fact the spork's voice was lower. He continued to argue with the spoon and soon the spork began to yell too. Together they rose a massive ruckus.

          “Enough!” the knife's voice possessed a power greater than all the other combined. The fork, spoon and spork fell silent and the knife continued in a normal speaking voice. “All of you shut up. I'm trying to sleep.” And so they did, because when a knife tells you to do something, you do it.

Friday, July 22, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Good Invention, Wrong Place

 “Clothes make the man.”
Spongebob Squarepants* #quote

Have you ever wondered if a “w” gets really drunk and falls over do the other letters mistake for an “m”? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Good Invention, Wrong Place

         “Come my brothers, my sisters, and all members of the tribe!” The smart nomad Rufflefeather called over everyone. “I have created an invention that will blow your mind!”
The other tribe members gathered and saw that he stood next to a large campfire.
         “It is quite dazzling and bright. Hot too.” The Chief nodded his head as he looked at it.
Rufflefeather danced. “Oh yes, it is! We can dance like this around it and sing! It can be a center of celebration and warmth.”
        The other members of the tribe started laughing and Chief then responded, “I'm sorry but I really don't think it'll work out. Look down.”

         Rufflefeather saw that the part of the ice floe he stood on and built the campfire on melted on the edges and broke off the main piece. He already started to float away. Rufflefeather's invention wouldn't be very practical where he would melt the ice so easily. Rufflefeather jumped into the water and swam back to his tribe kicking his webbed feet, for he was a penguin. It was sad that the brilliant penguin's brilliance would go unappreciated, but what use would a penguin tribe have for a campfire?

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Short-Tempered Pirate Captain

“A fool and his money are soon parted.”
Mr. T #quote

If you fear that you jump to conclusions too much, a walking to them might be better. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Short-Tempered Pirate Captain

Six pirates on a ship including the short-tempered captain.
One makes his captain mad and he walks the plank.
Five pirates on a ship including the short-tempered captain.
One makes his captain mad and he walks the plank.
Four pirates on a ship including the short-tempered captain.
One makes his captain mad and he walks the plank.
Three pirates on a ship including the short-tempered captain.
One makes his captain mad and he walks the plank.
Two pirates on a ship including the short-tempered captain.
One makes his captain mad and he walks the plank.
Now there's one pirate on a ship, including only the short-tempered and lonely captain.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The First Protagonists

“There are great sign up bonuses.”
The Borg* #quote

What if echoes are just the voices of your stalkers? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The First Protagonists

           The first protagonists are brothers. Or sisters. Yet siblings but also their parents but also they are both part one and the same. To ancient cells that came from one cell that drifted away from the ooze that life first came from. Since mitosis is one cell becoming two these two cells can be all those but none of them. In this story our protagonists will be known as brother and sister, Sam and Sally.
A human protagonist brings themselves into the mind of the reader through descriptions of their long, waxy, strawberry-blonde hair. Their short height and strong stride. Their jade eyes with a strong glare.
           The cells Sam and Sally had no luxury of vivid human features. They floated in the primordial petri dish of life with blubbery blue bodies. The biological clockwork within them jostled around as they moved like meatballs in a plate of spaghetti. However each of these pieces held their own vibrant color and hue as if someone broke apart a rainbow and scattered it in them.
Now what of these protagonists? What could two cells do? They could not make a romance, save kingdoms, solve a murder mystery, stop an alien invasion or do any sort of thing that a deep human protagonist could do.
           But they shared two things with human protagonists. One: They had a goal to fulfill. To multiply. And Two: They could die.
           So Sam and Sally stood still and gathered through their various celluar processes the energies needed to create more of their kind. Slowly but surely they did. However towards the moment of them beginning their process of multiplication the antagonist makes his appearance.
The large, tyrannical amoeba. Simple its process and the only reasoning behind how it chooses its food is whom can be devoured. At this level of life there is no empathy. The amoeba's body opens like a hand to grab the cell of choice.
       Both Sam and Sally started their splitting at this time, side by side. Without the amoeba's presence four cells would arise from Sam and Sally. The normal result of mitosis. But now one sibling bids another farewell.

         The amoeba wraps around Sam. He is crushed and broken down for the amoeba to eat molecule by molecule. Sally continues her work of mitosis as this happens. The antagonist takes long enough to digest Sam that where Sally once floated over one hundred cells floated. Both Sam and Sally no longer existed and the amoeba would have a feast. But enough would live on to multiply the legacy of the protagonists would persevere.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Otherworldy Knight

“Lift with your legs.”
King Arthur* #quote

The thing about celebrities is that work like real stars, inevitably they burn out.

Otherwordly Knight

          Sir Eyut rode his tentacled yoc-yoc through the lands as it spout ink across fields, mountains and whatever terrain he passed. Whether stopping bandits or saving damsels from fire-breathing, slime covered horkoks his bravery never wavered. His armor clanged while hiding the wounds on purple skin. But he didn't care.
          While Sir Eyut went on his way another knight moved on his world. Sir James rode his horse, stopped bandits, saved damsels from dragons and his bravery never wavered. His armor clanged as well, hiding just as brutal wounds on his skin.

          They both didn't care as they both fought for the same reason, the glory of adventure.   

Monday, July 18, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Amber And Amber

 “Don't take things from strangers.”
Snow White* #quote

At every moment some part of the Earth is covered in day and the other in night. That means that at every moment there is always someone dreaming. Though the dreamers don't have to be the ones sleeping on the dark side of the planet. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Amber And Amber

        Amber the fly flew about in the forest under the shadow of leaves in a windy day. She couldn't orient herself as easily as she normally could and became less focused. She hit something in between the branches. A spider's web. The monster that would consume her. At this point the only thing Amber could do was wait for the end to come.

         Amber the spider waited on her web in the forest under the shadow of leaves in a windy day. She feared for her life. She was hungry. And if the wind broke her web she doubted she could prepare one in time before starving, especially since she would have to climb up a tree to find a good pair of branches to weave it between. A bit of it snapped she made a speedy repair. Her fear grew as she imagined another break. However she was blessed as a disoriented fly fell into her web. She would live another day.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Pavlov's Dragon

“We have nothing to fear but fear itself.”
Friday the 13th #quote *

Good morning/midday/afternoon/evening/night. Now unless I missed one it shouldn't matter what time you read this. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Pavlov's Dragon

           “You want the stick? Do you want the stick?” A short man said to a large dragon. The balding man's remaining black hair matched the beasts scales in color.
            The dragon snorted some smoke and angrily said, “No, I don't want the stick.”
            “Yes you do!” The man smiled. “Little Scorch wants his stick! He wants to practice catching enemies of the Kingdom.” The dragon tamer prepared to throw the stick over a nearby cliff for the dragon to dive off and snag it.
             Scorch dug his claws into the ground. “Master Jacob, I'm not a kid anymore. I don't want a stick! I want advanced training and real combat.”
             “Go get it!” Jacob threw the stick off the cliff. Scorch flew off the cliff like he'd done ever since his first few years of age and grabbed the branch between his jaws. In a few seconds he stood in front of his master again and dropped the stick in front of him.

              The dragon huffed a large ball of smoke with a glare. “I hate you.”

Saturday, July 16, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Ninja Blame Game

“I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down as the flames went higher
And it burns, burns, burns,
The ring of fire, the ring of fire.”
Dante's Inferno* #quote

In their Bill Of Rights do bears have a right to human arms? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Ninja Blame Game

        “Target in sight. Hand me the poison shuriken,” said Ninja Codename X to Ninja Codename Y and Z.
          Y replied in a confused tone, “Wait, I thought you had them.”
          X responded swiftly and angrily, “No, you were supposed to bring the deadly weapons.”
          Z added, “Uh, you told me to bring poison knives...”
          X pointed at Z. “If I told you to bring anything, which I didn't, it wouldn't have been knives.               The poison shuriken is how we mark all of our assassinations.”
          The target of the assassination then yelled from across the room at their hiding spot, “Hey! Who are you?”
           Y yelled at the other two, “Great, you were being too loud and it caught the target's attention!”
           X and Z yelled back, “No you were! Or it could have been him!” They pointed at each other!”
           The target yelled again, “I won't ask again! Get out of there! I'm calling security!”
           X, Y, and Z looked at the target. Y then said, “You know what, let's just use the poison knives and get out of here.”

           X then looked at Y and Z then added, “Still totally your fault.”

Friday, July 15, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Massive Artifact

 “You spin me right round, baby. Right round like a record, baby. Right round round round.”
Mother Earth* #quote

Originally only my friend Jessica was coming over, but now CJ is as well. That means it's going to get really, really crazy. So crazy that we'll have to resort to Operation Spaghetti to feed everyone. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Massive Artifact

          Professor Johnson and his team unearthed a massive artifact. Something so impractical must have been ceremonial, religious. In all his years the muscular, shaved scientist and his colleagues saw nothing like it. Their theories ran rampant while they looked at a huge weapon they dug up. Vikings must have made such a thing for their halls. It would fit a warrior culture to create something like this to put on display.

          But Professor Johnson was wrong. He attributed to many ancient cultures since he didn't have any other items to reference it to at the time. However as he began dusting the item off to reveal the details of the boat-sized weapon it was revealed. The axe that laid before them had a name etched into its handle. And it was Paul Bunyan.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Immortal Farmer

 “Quit clowning around.”
P.T. Barnum* #quote

Good memories can be the most troublesome things. They can be difficult to find and so easy to lose.

The Immortal Farmer

        An old farmer tilled the soil with a magical sword. The strange hook of the weapon and the fact it could cut, penetrate or wreck anything he desired meant it could suit this purpose just fine. While he worked a knight a good foot taller than him walked up to him.
        “Almond skin, black hair, green eyes. Fits the description,” The knight said with while looking down at him. “Are you Sir Hedwind?”
         “I'm carrying the Immortal Sword. Don't ask stupid questions you know the answer to.” Sir Hedwind replied.
          “I seek a duel for your sword, do you accept?” The knight asked.
Sir Hedwind, “At least you didn't try to kill me in my sleep. I'll give you credit for that. But no, I will not duel you.”
           The knight's formal voice became a bit shaky. “Kill you in your sleep? Why would you think such a thing? I will best you in a duel, not do something so dishonorable!”
           Sir Hedwind smiled. “Whoever manages to kill me gets the power of the Immortal Sword and won't age. The only way someone can die who owns the sword is if someone kills them. Most people try to kill me in my sleep to guarantee they will get it. They've never succeeded. I don't like killing the people that ambush me, and I don't like killing the people that duel me either. So I will say it again, I will not duel you.”
          The knight approached Sir Hedwind as close as he could to tower over him and spoke with a demanding tone. “I am not leaving without that sword.”
           Sir Hedwind replied, “Do you know what fertilizes my farm? A few animals I hunt and the many people who come to murder me for the Immortal Sword. After all, I don't know who their families are to return their body for a more proper burial.”

          The knight looked at tilled soil and turned around without looking back. Some did not make the same choice and fell to Sir Hedwind, the most skilled knight in all the lands.

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Doodle Duel

“Three pills, twice a day.”
Pac-Man* #quote

My friend Jessica is coming over this weekend so that'll be a mountain of fun. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Doodle Duel

         The setting of the fight was history class. Boring history class. Sam normally thought history was interesting. But today it was mind-numbingly boring. Today was Thursday. And that meant review. Sam was too smart to need it, and since he liked history enough he remembered everything the first time. So now everything was a dull mess. The only solution was to use his rather mediocre drawing skills to create a doodle duel on paper to pass the time.
          He began by drawing two stick people on his notebook paper. He drew a line and a hump on top of the head of one to add a hat. That made his cowboy. He turned the other one's face into a mask, leaving a slit with eyes left. That was his ninja.
          He drew two squares in each of their hands then an oval coming from each of those boxes. Those were their chainsaws. Those ovals from each of those boxes were drawn to meet, the two combatants were fighting with their chainsaws. Sam wrote “RrRrrrRrrrrrR”
          Added fire at their feet. Why? Because there are very few things in this world that are not more awesome without fire. The fire was fierce. He layered it over and over.
          He wasn't content with only two combatants. So he added another. A wizard with an incredibly pointy hat. He drew the wizard riding upon a dinosaur, or a cow. With Sam's drawing skills an onlooker couldn't tell what the wizard was riding.
           Sam decided he would bring in one more fighter. A box with an eye inside with lines coming from it. (Those lines being the arms and legs) This was the only the way he knew how to draw a robot.
           He then added tension by drawing thunder clouds. Puffs with zig-zags flying across the page. He gave each combatant a laser gun too to add more danger. (Pretty much just a box with a line as a handle and LASER written on it.) Soon he was going select a winner by drawing explosions over all the losers. But a harbinger of peace would come to stop the duel.

         “Sam? You're drawing during review again? Put your doodles away and turn back to your notes that you took during the week. Don't make me take your pencil away.” The teacher turned away and continued the lecture and no doodle blood was spilled that day.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Alexander And The Ocean

 “It's a rental.”
Han Solo* #quote

Every day is a maze of possibilities. Don't get lost because you think you'll keep making wrong turns. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Alexander And The Ocean

        Trees. Great grandpa kept trying to get me to understand what they were until the day he died but I never really could get a clear image in my head. However I could imagine them much better than clouds. Even if I didn't understand his stories completely I still loved listening. The surface sounded much more interesting than the ocean. After going on about his stories great grandpa would say, “But don't worry Alexander, you've got a wonderful life here!”
         My ancestors started a project to colonize the ocean. Everything was built on the surface and sunk below. Turbines provide power by sitting right in the path of the powerful currents we live in. We don't need the surface's Sun because of special lamps that can use that electricity to create light that works the same. Genetically engineered algae makes our food and recycles our air, like the trees of the surface. The little city that I live in that we slowly use our submarines and divers to gather materials and expand.
        That's how my world came into being. And since we're self-sufficient when the surface world stopped making contact, we've managed on our own.
         I want to be a diver as my job. I'm getting older and training for a job is my next step in life. When I dive I want to be one of the ones that explores further and further away from the city. It's a tough job because you need to wear special suits, different from the diving suits that people from the surface normally use, and spend an hour in a pressurizing water chamber before being able to go outside. But even if it hurts, I want to do it. Get out of our little metal city.

         Then maybe, just maybe I can help us explore far enough to figure out how to get to the surface. And hopefully someday I'll get to see a tree.

Monday, July 11, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Library Of Lives

“Nobody is better than anyone else.”
Superman* #quote

I wonder if any of the chess champions that lost to supercomputers ever thought of unplugging them. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Library Of Lives

           Spirits on the Other Side document the world of the living to preserve them. The spirits who write the biographies of the living are nicknamed Recorders by other spirits. The Recorders naturally want to get famous doing their job, as any writer would, and pull in the biggest ethereal cash by having as many other spirits read their work.
          So they fight over the rights for the most interesting people in the world, and if they can't get them, they spin each person's biography into the most sensational story possible. They don't necessarily show every detail in the books and use their craft to make the biographies extravagant tales as much as they can.

         When one of these Recorders writes about you how do you think they will tell the story? If you're the hero who's the villain? What have been the plot twists? What's the climax? And most importantly...what will be the ending?

Sunday, July 10, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Ancient Age Comes Before Beauty

“Based on a true story.”
Aesop* #quote

Hangin' with CJ today. Hopefully we aren't interrupted by some aliens and their wars among the stars. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Ancient Age Comes Before Beauty

        “We look the same, the jewelry that is our home is the same. Why are the price tags beneath us different?” The young man-made diamond asked the several million year old diamond in the other piece of jewelry in the same case.
        The old diamond replied in the tongue of stone, “It is true our bodies are the same. We share the same shining beauty that humans admire. But I have learned something over the many, many years I have lived. Before I became placed in this jewelery the humans traded me. They have strange wants that are very difficult to understand. We are the same yet you were manufactured. I am a creation of nature. I have an age you do not. They desire that.”
        “Age? Why does that matter to them?” The young stone asked, annoyed at his apparent inferiority, despite the fact he probably had less flaws than the natural diamond.

        “I can only guess young one. I have a few guesses, but maybe in another few million years I will know why.”  

Saturday, July 9, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Good Fortune Of A Text Message Mishap

“Would you like to buy a vowel?”
John Kramer, Saw* #quote

People are like trees. You should think twice before cutting one down. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Good Fortune Of ,A Text Message Mishap

          One merry old day Blork of the planet Erghlor entered his friends contact information incorrectly into his cellphone while orbiting Earth. So he set his text message unwittingly to a young boy named James.
           “Sup Jorulong, I'm gonna 2 totally blow this planet up. It'll b funny.”
           “It's named Earth. I bet u that u will c the blast from ur house.”
            As James looked at text message bubbles on his phone he wondered if this was the dumbest prank call in the universe or what. Well, if he was going to play along he better do it in the smart way.
           “How about you go and blow up an asteroid field in the next solar system, it'll look cooler.”

           “Woah, cool idea man, lol.” James disregarded the entire thing until he read in a science magazine many years later(it does take some time for light to travel through the vastness of space) that a gigantic asteroid field seems to have strangely exploded in another solar system with no scientific explanation.

Friday, July 8, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Mayor Quackers

“Every one made to order.”
Henry Ford* #quote

CJ will be coming over tomorrow. Also we may or may not have a celebrity guest in a form of a robotic clone of them. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Mayor Quackers

          “Thank you, thank you for re-electing my flock!” Mayor Quackers bowed to his fellow ducks. “As mayor I'll lead the flock to the South for the winter and be sure to arrange proper mating for the entire flock that will benefit our generations. My defensive flight and nesting plans will also keep predators at bay.”
           From the group listening to Quackers one emerged while pointing its wing at him. “What do you have to say to the accusations that you led predators to your greatest competition previous mayor Mr. Featherton leaving only the unpopular Mr. Wingly to run against you?”
          The Mayor replied with the perfectly politically aggressive tone. He expressed anger yet showed a civil side to his words to avoid giving off a bad impression. “Those accusations are completely unfounded. Ridiculous. Whoever came up with them has a sick mind to think me a murderer.”

          The accusing duck looked Mayor Quackers in the eyes and could see that he wasn't lying. The mayor did not lead predators to Mr. Featherton. What that duck didn't know was that Mayor Quackers's wife led a predator to Mr. Featherton.

Thursday, July 7, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Monster Party

“Video games are getting too realistic.”
Neo* #quote

CJ should be coming over this weekend so that'll be wonderfully funcakes. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Monster Party

         The dragon band stood tall while they played jazz. Fire burst out of their instruments when they puffed into them making a blazing show of sound and light. Monsters of all kinds danced in the club. Well, there was plenty of drinking too, with ogres chugging the most down. But ogres were happy drunks and told merry stories while treating strangers like family.
        These parties were common among monsters because when the night waned and day came the world became a vastly different place. The humans would come to hunt them, with their knights clad in strong armor and their wizards knowledgeable in the most powerful of magic.

        Monster felt that parties made sure that they could have a wonderful time before their last day on this Earth. They toasted to the Moon, a symbol of safety and happy times while they danced into late night.  

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Painter Of The Envied

“A little water never hurt anybody.”
The Wicked Witch Of The West* #quote

Don't you ever get cravings for some pineapple right-side-up cake? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Painter Of The Envied

         Clemont worked as a painter. A difficult thing to make a living at. He did so not by making art that hung galleries and creating a name for himself. None of his art came from his imagination. Every piece he did was commission.
         He painted families in the most high quality he could, which proved to be a very high quality that wowed his customers and made him recommended to others. He worked for the upper class, though the time it took him to make his work forced his income to make him middle class during his best years.
         His work took him to homes filled with wealth far beyond his grasp. Large, happy, smiling families that were photographed with an incredibly expensive camera(which also cut into his living expenses, as well as other things needed for the shoot) to make a reference picture. The reference picture would be used for the long time it would take him to make a painting. Along with the wealth,          Clemont also didn't have a family of his own. Distant from most of it, and as he aged many died.
         Yet despite all that envy did not consume Clemont's soul. He looked out his window to see the bright sun, and read books by it just fine, or just as easily by the lamp by his bedside. A walk through the park to get a breath of fresh air out of his studio and sit on his couch to watch television.

         Clemont lived happily no matter who surrounded him.  

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Dust Of Times Past

 “I'm drawing a blank.”
Leonardo Da Vinci* #quote

You ever wonder how Superman shaves? If he's invincible what razor could cut his hair? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Dust Of Times Past

           An old chalkboard with a single tiny crack in the corner stood strongly attached to the wall of a university. The university had quite the legacy to the point of being history itself when talked about in classes. The old chalkboard had been there since the start of the school, being one of the only items that had never been replaced. Even when new wings of the school were torn down or built it found itself being carted from room to room.
          And the words of teachers decades apart mingled on that board because even if the chalk was erased the dust remained, and no matter how much someone wipes away particles of dust stay on the board.
           Until finally that crack in the corner grows and the board is thrown away. But then the words of new generations will find another way to be left behind and mingle.

Monday, July 4, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Littlest Tyrannosaurus Rex

“I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down as the flames went higher
And it burns, burns, burns,
The ring of fire, the ring of fire.”
Dante's Inferno* #quote

Happy Fourth of July everyone! And fifth if you're reading this then! And subsequently whatever day you're reading it be it the sixth, seventh etc. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Littlest Tyrannosaurus Rex

         Teddy Tyrannosaurus was the littlest tyrannosaurus in his pack. He got bullied by all the other ones. The parents wanted him to learn how to be tough on his own so they didn't help. So he got bullied and bullied. Teddy didn't like being bullied. He ran away from his pack to live on his own. Poor little tyrannosaurus!
         The dinosaurs of his pack did miss him, but in the brutal ancient age their culture decided that someone as wimpy as the littlest tyrannosaurus couldn't be considered one of them. If he ran away so be it. Years passed without them ever seeing the littlest tyrannosaurus.
         However one day while they hunted a tyrannosaurus twice the size of any tyrannosaurus before, a giant among giants, kicked them away a stole their food. The littlest tyrannosaurus had grown into the biggest tyrannosaurus and laughed as he bullied them.
         Teddy's old bullies bolted and he treated himself to the bounty of the day. In a few million years he would become part of the biggest oil well and his bullies the littlest.

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Human Trainer

 “Quit it with all that racket!”
Left Pong Paddle* #quote

The world is round, yet the ground seems flat. Perhaps our minds and reality should compromise and just say the world is a cylinder. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Human Trainer

          Fido spoke to the other dogs at the park after the collective customary behind sniffing of canines finished. “My friends, remember that humans predictable creatures. You just need to understand them and control them.”
        “But they're the master!” A little lapdog squeaked. Fido, a Great Dane, loomed over the runt before replying.
         “They may own us. They control the food supply. But they are a game. A game to play. Do you like games? Just find out the rules for your human and play them like a game. Find out what's acceptable and what you can get away with. Slowly you can change your human even by breaking some of these rules little by little.”
         “And making our eyes look really, really cute?” a bulldog asked.

Fido smiled, “That's mandatory. That's what breaks them the most.”

Saturday, July 2, 2016

Today's #flashfiction Who Do They Call?

The Lock Ness Monster* #quote

Remember to trust your instincts. Except when they're completely wrong. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Who Do They Call?

           I can barely feel my legs. I'm trying to pull myself out of some strange mud. No, not mud. Some kind of strange ooze. I should have just let myself sink in. When I pull myself out I see misty white fogs in so many different shapes. Some human-like. Some like animals. From something as normal as an owl, to a massive spider. Yellow eyes appear all through the mist beings and black arms come out, some poking and prodding me.
          “What an ugly creature he is,” one of the creatures say with a voice made of screams.
Another spoke with a voice accompanied by a quake in my gut. “We need to get rid of it. Get them here.”
           One of the spider shaped creatures vanished. I heard the ringing of a phone in the distance. Words I couldn't make out. I just shivered in place for an amount of time I couldn't quite guess at. My fear blurred my perception of how long each moment lasted.
           Some new creatures of mist appeared. New shapes like lizards with some other parts resembling tentacles and arms. They wore gray suits and from one of their pockets they pulled out a strange machine with a dome top.

          “Don't worry,” one of them said. “We've dealt with plenty of them before. We'll send this human back to the other side where it belongs.” A hole in the machine opened up and it started sucking me in. “Whenever you have a human in town, you know who to call.”

Friday, July 1, 2016

Today's #flashfiction The Life Of An Email

“A mind is a terrible thing to waste.”
The Walking Dead* #quote

My friend Jessica is coming over tomorrow so that'll be the feast of funliciousness. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Life Of An Email

        I am the under-appreciated email. A hard worker who travels all across the world in a maze of electricity. The web of the Internet is never a straight path from one machine to the next so I must fight other traffic and data while dashing along the roads praying to never get lost. My identity can be lost and regained while compression systems pull and twist my information to get through the pipelines to reach your computer. But I do it all to give you this important message:

        A Nigerian prince wants to use your bank account to access his massive fortune worth twenty million dollars. For helping him he'll give you one million. You must act quickly!