“DAY 4: Busy”

Another post for the BlogFlash2012 Challenge! And the third post today! Gosh, I’m easily distracted from uni work…

Ah well. Let me know what you think of this (predictably dark) flash fiction.

Go back to the start of the Challenge here.

…Busy…

“No” was a recurring word in her vocabulary.

“No, babe, I’ve got to finish this report.”

“No, hon’, I start work early tomorrow.”

“I’m too busy—I said no.”

“That’s okay,” he said pleasantly. Then he picked up the fire iron and brought it down across her shoulders, her back, her constantly shaking head.

He couldn’t help but laugh when each swing caused her to cry out, predictably, “NO! No no no no no…”

- Love The Bad Guy

“DAY 3: Colour”

I’m catching up! I’m catching up!

Here’s Day 3, with a bit of a break from the straightforward flash fiction. This one’s an etheree-style story — ten lines with an increasing number of syllables on each one, then inverted back to one syllable.

30 Days, 30 Prompts, 30 Posts — Go back to the first post of the challenge here.

Colour

Red,
orange,
yellow, green,
blue, indigo,
violet. Rainbows, her
mother used to say, are
special. They are not things to
glance at—they are things to study,
to melt into, until all seven
colours become clear and distinct, vivid
in their own right; not merely a smudge
made beautiful by its partner.
She would smile at the awe
in her mother’s voice; but
she never had the
heart to tell her
that she was
colour-
blind.

- Love The Bad Guy

“DAY 2: A Furry Friend”

Day Two, folks! (…Which I’m doing on Day Nine. Woops. But I’m catching up, I swear!)

If you missed yesterday’s post explaining the challenge, click here.

But for now, I hope you enjoy another piece of flash fiction. Feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated.

A Furry Friend

His scream resonated in the merciless mouth of the well. High above him, the dog howled in rhythm to his macabre wail.

Timmy struggled to rise, but could not free his leg from the steel grip of the shattered stone. “Lassie!” he called, desperation shattering his voice. “Help! Go home, girl!”

A sharp yip was heard, then she was gone. Timmy gazed forlornly up to the broad, sunlit circle of the well’s opening and prayed for the dog’s swift return.

Meanwhile, Lassie reached home, and curled contently in her kennel.

She’d always been an obedient dog.

- Love The Bad Guy