Archive for microfiction

Concentrated Backwash – #FridayFlash

Posted in Flash Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 7, 2011 by dustus


Beside myself, this hack saw the arcade; skeeballing hours roll, earning red cross lifeguard wife beater.  Ahhh, oceanside—Na+, spawn,
crustaceans crawling… High-strung tentacle.

Hear sonorous billows drift. Bobbing weight lunatic. Mistaken tampon for sea life. There! Culture germinates flotsam in shallow glass bottom petri.  Seething, concentrated backwash—sorry, couldn’t help thinking of Snooki.

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If you or anyone you know has written a Friday Flash 55 Fiction piece (in 55 words), then please come tell G-Man.

“His Break” ( #FlashFiction )

Posted in Flash Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 31, 2011 by dustus


4 am in Times Square pizzaria. I’m chasing plain slices with large drafts, catching a buzz beside stars…

“Fugetaboutit!  It’s art… Play with your heart! …Play with your soul! …Play with your goddamn balls!”

Fist-bumps. Hacking laughter…

“Listen, Slim. My break’s over.”

Danny hugs his musician brother; then returns to toss a pile of dough.

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Care for a Flash Fiction Reading?
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If you or anyone you know has written a Friday Flash 55 Fiction piece (in 55 words), then please come tell G-Man.

Southern Discomfort [ #FlashFiction ]

Posted in Flash Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , on March 17, 2011 by dustus

Bovine-eyed and cringing by decibels, her daughter glances across the café at the exit sign. Mom’s diatribe goes south.

“Gawwd…  Don’t you remember Florida?  That waitress sits down at our table fer chrissakes! ‘How yeww folks doing? Y’all having a nice day?’ she asks. ‘May I take yerr order?’

“Yeah, lady… leave us alone!”

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Care for a Flash Fiction Reading?
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If you or anyone you know has written a Friday Flash 55 Fiction piece, then please come tell G-Man.

Venus reads Wittgenstein (#FlashFiction)

Posted in Flash Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , on March 10, 2011 by dustus

Burnt coffee and B.O. headache. Inside it rains; drips into scattered pails. Spectacled, natural beauty who reads Wittgenstein on break slips into the storeroom; then returns past with semi-transparent white trash bags stretched from empty cups and pastry. Venus takes out the garbage—I muse, convinced the yuppie broker wraps her life in birthday fur.

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If you or anyone you know has written a Friday Flash 55, then please come tell G-Man.

To Ruins ( #FlashFiction)

Posted in Flash Fiction with tags , , , , , , , on March 3, 2011 by dustus


Mesmerized by doe-lit eyes glistening tears, he holds her squirming, French-manicured hand. Heineken bottles sweat rings upon pick-up. Free fingers weaved together uncomfortably. Choking annihilating sadness, he tells her he would rather be the one when she says,
 

“Inoperable… can’t fix me through plastic surgery.”

Eying dance floor ash, he recalls their vacation to ruins.

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Care for a reading?
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If you or anyone you know has written a Friday Flash 55, then please come tell G-Man.