Melna woke to the gentle rocking of her ship as it drifted in the water. Yawning she hauled herself out of her bunk and looked at the all surrounding sea. Groaning she tried the engine. Nothing, the storm must have fried something. “Water, water everywhere”, she muttered softly.
Category Archives: Flash Fiction
Shhhhhhhh
The team moved quickly through the forest. Behind them the carefully hidden bundles of their drop shoots just lumps in the dark.
It took them very little time to cross the miles from their drop to the edge of the forest next to the installation.
Continue reading Shhhhhhhh
Quail Queue
Nothing
I slunk across the dark street, flitting from shadow to shadow.
Reaching the house in the middle of the block, I quickly made my way to the back door. Continue reading Nothing
Howl
The cloud cover worked in my favor as I carefully crept towards the end of the creek bed.
I checked my weapon before searching the surrounding terrain for my quarry. Continue reading Howl
Feline Folly
The mighty hunter crept along the ledge, his dark fur masking his movements.
Carefully he selects his next perch.
With a series of powerful leaps, he reaches the highest point.
Continue reading Feline Folly
Avalanche
The author sat at his desk, hands reaching out to the keyboard.
Letters piled together into stacks of words, heaps of sentences teetering in mounds of paragraphs. Continue reading Avalanche
Weeeeeeee: Gargleblaster #183
Repeatedly you check the belt across your lap is fastened.
A few quick jerks at the safety bar in front of us, seeing if it is secure.
The breaks release.
You grip the bar, knuckles white.
I turn and ask a question.
Continue reading Weeeeeeee: Gargleblaster #183
Fruit: Gargleblaster #178
I looked back in the distance at the smoke that rose from the wreck of my still burning fighter.
All my emergency gear trapped inside that blazing inferno, beyond reach.
I glance again at the tree with the odd florescent orange fruit.
Early Evening: Gargleblaster #177
The humid summer air filled the bedroom, a slight breeze through the open window providing a break from the stifling heat.
The drone of hundreds of cicadas the only sound.
Sitting near the window, the old man smacked his arm.
“Darn skeeters.”