This is another in the series of flash fiction from Chuck Wendig’s site “Terrible Minds.” The theme this week was to write a story in just three sentences.
I posted it directly on his site as per the challenge rules, but I also have to put it here. There is more to this story, which I will be writing about soon. To see more three-sentence stories, catch a wave and surf over here:
Chuck Wendig’s Flash Fiction Challenge: Another Three Sentences
Oh, yeah–it’s a true story. My life is really like this. It happened last night:
As Susan peered deeply into me, making me open up and talk about things that I would never discuss with a stranger, I was not aware at the time that her broken English was only slightly better than that of her husband’s unintelligible mangling of the language with his thick Vietnamese accent.
Earlier, I had been witness to an odd ritual as she cleansed the store of bad spirits and blessed it for luck with prayer, incense, and candles that were part of some Buddhist ceremony that seemed completely alien to me.
After everything else that happened in this strange night at the small liquor store—the broken cooler, the credit card machine malfunction, the culture clash-fueled anger from customers that I diffused—it was the appropriate nightcap, but I didn’t realize it until I left for the night and walked to my car, muttering, “Fucking mystics.”
Tags: 100 words, flash fiction, poor choices
This is another in the series of flash fiction from Chuck Wendig’s site “Terrible Minds.” The theme this week was to write 100 words, and use three of these five: ivy, bishop, enzyme, lollipop, and blister. I accidentally used all five, but they are strung together with the other 95. To find out the details and read more entries, go to his website:
Flash Fiction Challenge: The Numbers Game
Ivy sat at the Metro station in quiet contemplation about the night before. The rain punctuated her melancholy, and her wet clothes irritated the blisters in her loins. It must an allergic reaction, she thought. Enzymes, or something. She hoped that’s all it was.
Sucking on the lollipop Bishop had given her as a consolation price, she contemplated her choices in life.
Next time, she thought, I’m not going to fuck a guy I meet on Craigslist when all I wanted was some fill dirt.
And next time, she thought adamantly, I’m winning a prize from the top shelf.
This is another in the series of flash fiction from Chuck Wendig’s site “Terrible Minds.” The theme this week was to write something about revenge. But only 100 words. This, too, is a true story. I can’t believe how hard I am hitting the keyboard right now. I want to scream. To find out the details and read more entries, go to his website:
Flash Fiction Challenge: 100 Words On The Subject of Revenge
I was lying in the gravel in a fetal position. John kicked me after he beat me down. “Fucking pussy.” Disgust in his voice.
Appeasement didn’t work. “I—I think you’re cool, man.” He punched me.
John had been gunning for me all summer. Taunting, ridiculing. Terrorizing our small, peaceful town. Now I was scared to go outside.
He stole my friend’s girlfriend and bullied everyone. We hated him. Instinctively, he found the weak one to take it out on.
Crying, bleeding and bruised, I was alone now. My friends left, embarrassed and scared.
I want to kill him.