Since my 2nd July post – Flash Fiction #vss365 – I have continued writing daily little snippets under the #vss365 hashtag and posting them on Twitter. Some days I got carried away and wrote multiple stories lol. Here they are for you to enjoy:
She stood under the outstretched arms of Cristo Redentor. She was equanimous as the meteoroid hit the water below her. Her faith that his protection would save her from the waves already engulfing the city was sure even as the shockwaves sent great cracks up the statue.
They started as freedom fighters, battling against their oppressor. Their victory made them patriots. The Liberty Bell rang as independence was declared. Today they revel in their own subjugation at the hands of Russia’s puppet cheering as the American Dream dies.
He sat facing away from the bar watching the scene before him unfurl. Music banging. The woman dancing. The man sleazing. The boyfriend returning. Punches thrown. Drinks spilt. Screams and security. Ejections. The bar’s tension dissipates. He waits for the next scene.
After the sting of the needle came the ice of the drug as it was injected into my arm. Over in a flash. Followed by the burning underneath my skin as the drug worked its way through my system. My head lolled to one side. Slack-faced. My mind in overdriven euphoria. Ahhhh.
Prompt: Sting #2
She turned off the machine. The room grew quiet. “Goodbye, Momma. I love you.” She adjusted the cover as tears stung her eyes. A kiss to the forehead. She went to the door, a final look. “I wish you’d believed in me.” With $265 in her purse. The bus and stardom awaited.
The diamond glittered from a thousand facets. The dancing flames of the torchlight reflected around the cave. A cavortion of orange and red. It lay across the chasm. With a rope for support, Myla stretched with every sinew. Every fibre. But she couldn’t reach the stone.
Prompt: Reach #2
He stroked her face. It was cold and unyielding to his touch. He closed her eyes with a delicate touch. A tear fell, darkening her dress. That was new. The others hadn’t affected him that way. He reached for his scissors to cut the twine which had silenced the screaming.
Prompt: Reach #3
“Stop there,” the officer called as he ran, chasing the man through the market. Stalls were crashed into. Produce spilled. The officer slipped and fell. He reached for a fallen apple and threw it at his quarry. The man stumbled, tripped, and slid into the fish stall.
Shards of glass crackled beneath his feet. There was an overwhelming stench of piss from all around. Above his head, he could hear muffled passing cars and lorries. He reached his spot and laid out his cardboard mattress. He hoped the rats wouldn’t come again tonight.
Prompt: Beneath #2
I wait here in the dark. In the dank. Biding my time. They think I am gone. I am never gone. I twist their dreams and corrupt their minds. I whisper in their ears and tempt them with false promises. Soon, I will return from beneath to claim my throne. Him above be damned.
He watched her as she glided across the room, moving with effortless grace, like a dancer across a stage. He blinked. Was it a trick of the light? Her shadow seemed to move to its own rhythm. Struggling and jerking as though trapped in a cage and screaming to be released.
The rain came down in sheets, the fury of Zeus in all its glory. Pavements became rivers, roads oceans. The night rang with echoing thunder. I saw him. Stood in my front yard. Lightning illuminated him for a second. His face expressionless. Is that a knife in his hand?
Prompt: Fury #2
Stephen roared with fury. Neck cords taut, eyeballs bulging. He slammed his fist on the counter, knocking the cup over. Liquid spilled across the wooden surface in a tsunami of froth and coffee. “It’s Stephen with a ‘ph’,” he screamed at the barista.
The boat bobbed past the dolls with their incessant singing. Joe put his arm around Ann. The craft entered a dark tunnel. A figure darted from the shadows and leapt onto the boat. Joe stared at his ex-wife Beth. “It’s a small world,” she said. A knife glinted in her hand.
Prompt: Tunnel #2
The bullet tunnelled through his side and exited into the wall behind him. He staggered backwards. The wall held him up. He forced himself to lift his arm. Raise his pistol. He pulled the trigger and slumped to the ground. He smiled as he heard his adversary fall.
From a young age he was always collecting. Keeping his precious items in his battered, rusty tin: Interesting leaves, baseball cards, foreign coins, and suchlike. He continued as he grew and aged. Now, however, his collection includes treasures taken from his victims.
Who am I this time? A woman? A man? Preacher? Sinner? MLK? Good Ol’ Abe? Or Joe No One. Countless leaps, countless people. Righting wrongs, fixing history. A gentle push into place. I never know who or when it’ll be. I bounce across the years. Time to find out. “Oh boy.”
The rats came down the tunnel towards me, a grey torrent of fur, flesh, teeth. Glistening and sleek in the torchlight. They swept around my ankles like a flood. I staggered but held my ground against the surge. As I began to wonder what drove them this way I heard it.
The craft slowly drifted through the murky water. Spotlights blazing as it delved the ocean trench. A mile down structures appeared on the monitors. A stone obelisk reaching for the surface. Three pyramids in a line leading to a massive cracked dome pulsating with lights.
Prompt: Delve #2
He delved through his memories searching for the woman in front of him. Her face familiar. Her smile uncertain. Worried. Scared. A fragment. A vague wisp of remembrance that eluded his grasp. It had been this way since the accident. She touched his cheek. A spark. “Mom?”
There he goes again, dispensing his advice like the Great Benefactor. His army of sycophants lapping up each morsel. He’s been dining off his reputation since the 90s. Speaking engagements, book sales, tv appearances. They should have been mine. After today they will be.
“Do you think you have a chance?” Inspector Davis asked. “You’re surrounded. Let the woman go.” “I want £100k and a helicopter.” “Do you think that’s realistic?” “I will kill her. I’ll do it.” “I’d say that was unlikely. Your gun only squirts water and it’s leaking out.”
The speeder skimmed across the verdant rises and slopes of the planet’s surface. Sirena kept a careful watch on the scanner. “Time to target 20 seconds,” the computer told him in calm tones. He flicked the button to charge the pulsar laser, he’d only have the one shot.
I turned the radio on and U2’s The Fly was playing. I remember interviewing them. They were surly and not engaging. Bono was in his bug glasses. Bono grabbed an apple from the table. He coughed and threw up on it. “Tasty,” he buzzed. The interview went better after that.
He stabbed the body to make sure, then rifled through its pockets. A wallet. The cash went inside his bag, the cards and pictures on the ground. A gold ring. With his dagger he sawed away until it popped clear. He lifted the body and dragged it to the stack of others.
That’s my stories up to date. I hope you like them. Let me know in the comments which ones are your favourites, or even add your own little stories if a prompt grabs you.